Life in the beginning for me was simple. We were from humble means, no flashy birthday parties, trips or extravagant gifts. I only recall one party when I was growing up, three or four friends came over for homemade cupcakes, I must have been 7 or 8. Birthdays came and went without much fanfare. I'm sure there must have been gifts, however I can't remember what one of them was.
What I do remember however, was visitors that would come each year for my birthday, sometimes traveling for many miles to celebrate the day with me; sometimes just a hundred, sometimes a thousand or more. They came each year, until they could no longer drive and were bound inside the confine of their place. It was then that I would drive to spend my birthday with them. They would bring me a special cake, it was white with special frosting and nuts all around the side. I'm not sure how she would keep it fresh after being in the car for such a long time, but I could hardly contain my excitement when my special visitors arrived.
My grandparents celebrated my life each year with me, and then when we had kids, they celebrated the life of my kids each year, until they no longer could remember.
At first, when it was decided that my birthday would be the chosen day to say goodbye to my dearly loved favorite grandpa, I had a hard time hiding my disappointment. I thought upon the event for awhile. I thought about all the sacrifices that they made each year to be with me to celebrate my life on my special day. My grandparents came from humble means as well. Just their presence watching me blow out my candles was the greatest gift of all.
So, it only seems fitting for me to spend my birthday one last time with one of the most important men in my life; he was there for me from the very beginning. While he is with me only in spirit, I know that we are still together. He is celebrating the day that I breathed my first breath, I am celebrating the day he breathed his last earthly breath.
My birthday from this day forward will forever be different, I will always feel his absence. Yet, I will always be reminded of his love for me in just the simple act of blowing out a candle and a hundred other little things that we used to do together like walk hand in hand to the corner store down the street from his house, or sit on the porch and eat watermelon or watch The Three Stooges or sing Amazing Grace together.
The thing that I will most remember is my grandpa's passion for Jesus and his unconditional love for me. Sometimes when I was going through the hardest valleys in my life, I would just go and sit with him. As soon as I walked in through the door, I knew I was loved. I knew grandpa wasn't going to judge me or scold me or tell me how terrible I looked that day, he always told me how blessed he was that I came.
I don't wish him back. He is with the rest of my family. He isn't suffering or confined to a chair or bed. He has a new body and sheds no more tears. My grandpa is experiencing a joy that he never had here. My hope rests that some day, I will see him again, for I have the assurance beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is in Heaven with my Heavenly Father. His soul is still alive, only his earthly body is dead. The person and character that my grandpa was will live forever!
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