THE DAY

Dear Grandpa,

Here is the letter I promised You. I’m sitting on a tweed couch Flecked with orange and brown And green in Aunt Sue’s living Room. The aquarium is gurgling Across the room. Whomever was Walking upstairs isn’t any longer Because the ceiling has stopped Creaking.

In a way this is an extension of a Letter I’ve started at least three Times. It’s a letter I feel I will be Extending for the rest of my life. Where to begin? You’ve lived the kind of life people Marvel. Sitting here I can’t Imagine myself doing it, but you, For you it was as natural as Breathing.

I remember how you used to hug Me so hard and growl like a bear; Then I’d squeeze my arms around You even harder which only made You squeeze harder. I can almost Feel your arms around me. Now.

In my last letter I wrote how I was Proud to have you as my Grandfather. You were the door for thousands Of people and through which, Jesus the Christ, the Most High God entered into their hearts. When I think of that and stand Under the starry night I can’t help But shout for joy. Shout with the Stars and leap and dance and laugh.

The painting you had on the wall Of your office at Kaiser was so Appropriate. The hospital 15 stories Tall with Jesus just as much standing Outside it knocking. Yes, Grandpa, The countless hands you held, the bed Pans, the souls you brought Water; “Whatever you’ve done for The least of these you’ve done for Me.”

And by now I’m sure you’ve heard Enough of this sort of talk. You want To know how my relationship with Jesus is going. To which I have to say The same thing I said in the last letter. David’s prayer of “dwelling in the House Of the LORD forever” is becoming very Real to me and is one I pray lying on my Bed in the mornings. It is a desire that Has sprung from the same root as the Other prayer I’ve been praying for close To 20 years now: that I become David, Beloved, a man after God’s own Heart.

This prayer is a gift I’ve inherited from You. Just as sins are passed down through Generations so are acts of righteousness. And the example you set is a high one indeed. Last Thanksgiving I celebrated with Colleen And Dick and Stephen. As I walked into Their home I set my things down and stood Facing them in their kitchen. Their canary, Harvey, was sitting on Dick’s shoulder eating Peanuts. The next thing I knew he flew Towards me and landed on my head.

“It’s an omen,” Colleen said. I couldn’t help but think of the Spirit of God descending on Jesus as a dove when John the Baptist baptized Him. There have been numerous other times but This is one of the more overt circumstances In which I have felt marked.

What a strange thing it is Grandpa that you Are dead. That there is a fresh-cut granite Stone with your name on it is beyond me. I know this is naïve; but I always thought we’d All blow up or Jesus would come back or some- Thing; but not you die and the rest of us be Left to fend and pray for ourselves. Now I have an inkling what the disciples felt like When Jesus left them for the last time to Carry on the work he began.

Thank you, Grandpa.

I love you.

November, 1990