The strongest man in the world

I'm sitting here snuggling a quilt that my grandpa made. He learned to make quilts when his legs were run over by a truck at the cement factory he worked at. The pedal on the sewing machine was good therapy for his legs, so I'm sure Grandma put him to work doing something useful. This quilt was his most treasured creation -- a postage stamp quilt, with 1.5" squares. There are hundreds of those little squares, made from fabric salvaged from old shirts of his and my late grandma's or fabric that was given to him by the people in his little town. You see, he was a rock star of sorts, because he lived to be 103, still driving to the next county to renew his driver's license when he was 101. He was known around the little town as a man who would get up on his neighbor's roof and help repair it when he was in his 90's. Stubborn to the fullest extent of the word, but with a quiet strength that kept him on the earth for these 103 wonderful years.

My grandpa was, without a doubt, one of the strongest and most wonderful men in the world. I'm sure it sounds like a sweeping generalization, but for those of us who knew him, it rings true. His approach to life was something of an inspiration -- he never seemed to worry or get stressed out, he sort of just let life happen. Even in these last two years, when his he was finally beginning to act his age, that same spirit endured.
"How are you doing, Grandpa?"
"Oh, I'm just a-going"
That was nearly always his reply. He knew that it wasn't in his control to change things or make things better or worse than they were. He knew he just had to "keep going" and do the work he's been given.

My grandpa had an ornery streak to him as well. He loved to walk by and suddenly clap his hands in my sister or my face, tease us, and play around with us. Even a month ago, when he was in the hospital, that ornery streak continued, giving the doctors and nurses (and us) a good laugh. But, he always did it with his gracious grin going from ear to ear, so we knew it was his little way of showing us just how much he cared. I think that smile is what I'll miss the most.

Anytime I heard my grandpa pray, he always ended his prayer with this line. "You've been a real good Lord, and we thank you." Despite all of the hard things he had to endure in his long life, his faith in the Lord's goodness and providence never wavered. In that way, his faith is an example to me, and I pray that my circumstances will never cause me to doubt who God is and what he does in my life, like Grandpa never allowed the things of this life to change his faith.

My earliest memories of my grandpa are of him running around outside his little house, playing ball, tag, or whatever my heart desired. In my head, he's not older than fifty, but in reality he was in his late eighties. It was his approach to life, his faith, and a dash of his stubbornness that kept him around this long, and I'm so glad I got to share so many years with him. While I'll miss him here on earth, I know he's been given a new body that is worthy of his strength and will never make him tired again. After 103 years in the same one, I'm sure he was more than ready to trade up for a better model.

Miss you so much and love you dearly, grandpa.