From the Mouths of Babes

Last week I spent a lot of time over at Amachi and Haytachi's house with PapaBear. 

Behind their house is where my Haytachi did all of his work. He has tools, scrap wood, nails, screws, locks, furniture, just about anything you could imagine. 

Most of the stuff, we have no idea where it came from.

One day Tiny said to Sissy, "Mom, I thought of an idea."

Now, when Tiny says something like that, you really never know what is going to come next. It could be anything from dinosaurs to tractors to aliens.

So, with a little hesitation she said, "Yes, Tiny?"

He said, "We could just get a whole bunch of ladders and tape them all together and then maybe we could reach all the way up to Heaven to see Haytachi."

And you know, I bet Haytachi smiled down and said, "That's my boy."

Vaya Con Dios

Part of the grieving process includes sitting around and telling stories. 

And there are more than enough stories to be told about my Haytachi.

When asked for my favorite, I can't choose just one.

Today, I was at Amachi's house with PapaBear and some others and we were looking at pictures I had found. In the pictures were Sissy, PapaBear, Haytachi, and me at Disneyland. Sissy and I couldn't have been more than 4 and 3 years old, respectively. 

PapaBear asked me if I remembered the trip, and I'm not sure I remember that trip specifically, but I do remember a trip to the San Diego Zoo when he was feeding cigarettes to the monkeys.

PapaBear laughed and said that he was horrible at a zoo. He was always trying to get you to feed the animals whatever you had. If you were holding an ice cream cone he'd say, "Give the gorilla that ice cream cone, see if he'll eat it."

I can remember him taking Sissy and I to the local western store to let us pick out our first pairs of cowgirl boots. According to Papa, we earned them by helping to gather some wild cows at our desert ranch. I don't remember that day as much, but I remember walking through the store and looking at the boots.

I got an email from a friend today and she said, Some men are not cut out for a "long goodbye," it goes against everything that made them the great men we loved them for being. I consider it an amazing testament to the men they were and the life they lived for God to show them such mercy, allowing them to leave this earth with their dignity.

I honestly couldn't have said it better myself. 

Beware of the Danger

My grandfather passed away last night.

It was unexpected.

It happened quickly and with no pain.

I know that I should take comfort in knowing that he is in Heaven, probably fixing fences and bossing crews around, but it hurts.

For me, mourning is like a title fight that I am unprepared for. And just when I think its over and I'm back on my feet, it deals another left hook that takes me to my knees.

And it's crazy things - things like pulling into the gas station at the local grocery store and realizing that I'll never again run into him in the parking lot or the coffee shop inside.

Or knowing that I'll never drive past their house again and see him out there tinkering with some old equipment he found.

Just looking at that picture above knocks the wind out of me.

There is no doubt that my siblings, cousins, nieces, nephews and I have been abundantly blessed to have so many great years with him. 

To know that yesterday he worked all day. Spent the day outside doing the things that he loved to do. Went inside and ate a delicious dinner, then went peacefully to be with the Lord as he was drifting off to sleep.

The memories that we all have of him, that were shared today among family and friends, will always be ours.

He will always live in our hearts and spirits.

He taught every one of us the joy of living. Of putting in a hard day's work. He has left a legacy that will reach into generations that I will never meet.

But right now my heart is cracked and the healing process my be excruciating.