A Tribute To My Grandparents

Since Grandparents Day is just around the corner, I want to dedicate this post to memories of my grandparents.

My maternal grandparents (Grandpa and Granny) and my paternal grandfather (Granddaddy) are already with Jesus. They left behind an incredible heritage that I’m reminded of whenever I read Psalm 16:6, “The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places: yea, I have a goodly heritage.”

Granny and Grandpa were amazing individuals. They impacted my life in the most incredible ways. Even though Grandpa went to heaven when I was about 7 years old, I remember his smile, his love, the wonderful peanuts that he always kept in his study and the heart that he had for Jewish missions. Grandpa gave his time, efforts and ministry to reach souls with the gospel of Christ.

Born into the most unlikely of homes, my Granny was truly a trophy of God’s grace. I will never forget the stories that she told of living through the Depression as one of 10 children, being a missionary in Africa, marrying Grandpa (how she loved him!) and raising her children.

Granny’s heart was the most generous I’ve ever known. She always made me feel special by remembering my birthday — she always called. Since her death in October 2007 I have missed her more on my birthday than any other day. Seriously, I boo-hoo my way through what’s supposed to be a happy day…I just miss her so. so. much.

I have such fond memories of my Granddaddy. He was such a character! He always had a joke or funny story to tell. I grew up right next door to Granddaddy and Memaw, so I have tons of memories! Granddaddy loved orange “coke” and he always carried it around in his big blue thermos. He always had an amazing garden. Granddaddy was an incredibly strong man. His hands were huge. He always wore blue overalls and workboots.

Granddaddy had such a love for God. He talked often about “the good Lord” and how God had blessed Him. I loved seeing Granddaddy reading his Bible or listening to a sermon on the radio. He always supported my Dad’s ministry — even when others didn’t.

My very last memory of Granddaddy is when he was on his deathbed with all kinds of horrible contraptions hooked up to him. I was holding his hand and I bent over and told him “I love you” in his ear. He couldn’t respond verbally and he didn’t even open his eyes, but he squeezed my hand with an “iron-like” grip. He was telling me that he loved me back.

I’m so thankful to know that one day I will see these wonderful people again!