Grandpa Munsen (1920-2016)

A week ago, I gathered in the living room at the farm house along with my parents, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and nephews.  As we ate, everyone talked and caught up.  It all felt so normal for a trip to see family in Minnesota.  Except for one thing:  Grandpa was not sitting in his usual chair in the corner.

The week before, Grandpa had fallen and broken his hip.  The doctors had done surgery, but afterwards, his 96 year old body began shutting down.  My mom purchased an airline ticket to fly out that Sunday, but the doctor told my uncle that he did not think Grandpa would last until she got there.  He did.  My dad and I left early Tuesday morning to make the three day drive from Arizona to Minnesota.  Tuesday night around 11:30, shortly after Dad and I went to bed in our hotel, he received a call from Mom.  Grandpa was gone.

Throughout the past year, there had been several times when Grandpa fell and was not doing well, but he had always pulled through and kept going.  As recently as his birthday last February, he was still living on his own.  A strange thing happens when someone has lived so long.  Although you know that it is not true, a part of you still believes that he will always keep going, just like he always has.

One of my sisters made the comment that nothing in Grandpa's house ever changed.  The same decorations and other items have been in the same location for as long as any of us grandkids can remember.  Many of the same toys are still in the sewing room.  The bathroom door still requires an extra push just above the handle to ensure that it fully latches.  It doesn't even seem right that the old shag carpeting and floral print couch have been given a much needed and nicer upgrade.  Since I was not even three years old when Grandma Munsen died, I don't even remember that change.  Everything was always the same.

Now things have changed.  Grandpa isn't there anymore.  The house is the same, for now, but even that will be changing.  To be honest, I don't know when I will ever be back there.  It's a strange thought.

Grandpa's funeral was one week ago today.  With the whole event came a weird mix of emotions.  I didn't have the words to express it then, and I'm not sure if I do now.  Many if not most of those reading this have probably experienced the same thing, so perhaps I don't need to explain.

Grandpa isn't here anymore.  Still, he's not gone.  Not really.  It's the same as saying goodbye to someone who is going on a trip to a place far away.  You know you are not going to see him for a time, but you're not sure exactly how long.  During that time, you won't be able to see him, call him, or write to him.  There will be no correspondence.  It's sad and hard to say goodbye even when those things are options and even harder when they are not.  Still, you know that you will see him again.  It's goodbye for now, but not for forever.

You see, Grandpa Munsen accepted Jesus Christ as his Savior at a VBS when he was a preteen.  I did the same many decades later as a young girl.  That means we'll have all of eternity to pick up where we left off here on earth.  Right now, Grandpa is happier than he has ever been.  He is face to face with God in paradise.  He is reunited with the wife he has missed so much for the past twenty years.  He is no longer trapped in a frail earthly body.  To be honest, he wouldn't want to come back if he had the option.  If I'm honest with myself, I wouldn't want him to give that up either.

As Christians, we don't "grieve as others do who have no hope.  For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep" (1 Thess. 4:13-14).  Our God is the One who is "the Resurrection and the Life" and who promised that "Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die" (John 11:25-26).

Grandpa is not still with me because of the memories I have of him; although, I will cherish those memories.  He is not still here in some sense because I won't forget him; although, I won't.  The truth is, he's not "still with me."  He's much better off than that.  He has exchanged "the sufferings of this present time" for "the glory that is to be revealed" (Rom. 8:18).  He is in Heaven with our Lord and Savior, and one day I will join him there.