Unspeakable Tragedy

I've been gathering my thoughts about my father-in-law's sudden, unexpected death for the past few weeks; it's a lot to process all at once. Sometimes it still doesn't seem real. It still seems like we're going to see him at Christmas, along with the massive amount of Christmas decorations (mostly nutcrackers, which he collected) that he put up every year.

There are so many things that are tragic about this. He was a husband, father, grandfather, brother, son, and friend of many. Very many. There were probably 600-700 people at his funeral, and many more who said they wanted to attend but couldn't. But the thing that I keep coming back to is that there's a beautiful little baby boy who will never know firsthand how wonderful his Grandpa was. So here you go, little guy....here's the first of many times I'll tell you about him.

Dear Elijah,

Your grandpa loved you very much. I probably had a hundred people tell me how excited he was about meeting you. And how he showed off pictures of you at every opportunity, in typical proud-grandpa fashion. He saw a picture of you every time he turned on his cell phone, and carried your newborn photo from the hospital in his wallet---the only photo he kept in there. He was so proud. He was all smiles whenever he saw you. I have a picture of all four of your grandparents as they walked into the hospital room to meet you for the very first time. All of them were so excited to meet you!

Your grandpa was a great guy. As your daddy said on the day of his funeral, he was the kind of man who looked after widows and orphans. He was always caring, always visiting, always helping. He was the person we called when we thought we were having car trouble. He helped us fix a few things around the house not long after you were born. He had lots and lots of tools, and was very smart---he could fix anything. And he was happy to help out anyone with anything.

Back when I was first getting to know your daddy's family, he always tried to make me feel welcome. I talked to him a lot, about all sorts of things.

One little thing I will miss is waking up to the smell of breakfast cooking at his house. And the tailgating at Michigan football games! Those were some very early mornings, which would start out with breakfast under the big Michigan tent and end with more food.

I am so sad that you won't get to see his big smiles, or hear his laugh. And that he won't get to toss you up into the air, help you learn to swing a golf club, or take you to a football game. But even though you won't get to know him, always remember that he knew you, and he loved you.

-Mommy

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