I got the call today. Monday afternoon, I found out Luke’s grandfather had been in the hospital with a serious infection. While in the hospital, he had a massive heart attack. They were able to bring him back.
Luke is a friend I’ve written about before. He has MDA and is confined to a wheelchair. His movement is pretty much confined to being able to speak and use his thumbs. I have a ton of respect for Luke because of his attitude and his ability to make due without things virtually everyone else takes for granted. Where most people in his situation would be bitter, Luke is grateful that his family takes care of him.
This morning, I called over to Luke’s and talked to his mom. His grandfather had awakened, and one of his granddaughters was there at his bedside. He reached for her.
Then, about 3:00, my phone rang. Luke’s grandfather had passed on.
I didn’t know Luke’s grandfather all that well. He was usually there when I would go to see Luke. He was a bit shy around my friends and me, but he always had a smile. One night as we were about to leave, his nurse and Luke’s nurse had both arrived, and both of them were going to get treatments. Luke’s grandfather walked up to us and asked us to pray with them. We did.
You can tell a lot about a man by looking at his descendants. (The same goes for women, of course.) Luke learned his ways from somewhere. Luke is a great man. His grandfather was a great man.
Brad told me Luke’s grandfather was about 80 years old. That’s a pretty long life. But it’s never enough. We get attached to the people close to us. Whether a person dies at age 1 or age 120, it’s a sad time. We’re selfish and we want to see them, to be around them. They live on in our memories and dreams, but it’s not enough.
I lost my dad in 1994. He was 51. He died quickly and suddenly of a heart attack. Fittingly, he was waiting for some x-rays to arrive in his office when he died. Dad was always helping people. I miss him. Dad taught me a lot of things, including to stand up for what’s right. I lost my grandmother in 1995. She was 72 (I think). Maybe she’s the one who taught me how to walk fast. She could stretch a dollar further than anyone else I’ve ever met, or ever will meet. She taught me how, but I’m just a pale imitation of the master. I miss her too. I’d give just about anything to be able to sit down and watch a Royals game with them. Just one. Even if the Royals lost.
I don’t know everything that Luke and his family are going through. It’s never exactly the same. But I definitely know the neighborhood.
I’m thankful that Luke’s grandfather died knowing the Lord Jesus. That means we’ll all see him again. I thank God for making that assurance known to them.
I pray that His peace will be upon them until that great day comes when Luke will run to his grandfather’s open arms.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.