What's in a name?

I hesitate to share this. I don't desire pity or any of the things that are probably culturally appropriate in this situation. In fact, I almost want to avoid the pity so much that I'm not sure I want to write this....but I will, because it's cathartic...so it's worth it.

I was named after my grandfather. I think about that a lot. How many people go through life knowing that they represent another person? It's a sobering thought.

He passed on yesterday. On some level it's a relief. My grandma died ten years ago, and ever since then a piece of him had already passed on.

But the funny thing is, even when it's a relief, even when you know they're better off, even when you have plenty of time to prepare yourself for it, it still hurts.

Like I said, I don't desire any pity. I just am thinking about who we lost.

If I had to pick one word to describe him, I think I'd pick blessed. Not a whole lot of men get to say that they got to love and be loved by one woman for 54 years. Even fewer can brag of 4 children who love Jesus.

My dad would always tell me about what a no-nonsense disciplinarian his dad was growing up. But, just like my own father, over time grandpa became one of the most gentle and caring people I knew. I think about his rubber bands, and how my dad told me grandma always used to check his pockets to make sure he didn't bring them wherever they were going because he'd pick on people. and cats.

Grandpa could fix anything I think. I'm pretty sure that's where dad got it. He worked hard. And I doubt you'd find someone who'd say a bad word about him. And not just because people never speak ill of those who pass on...but simply because he was a good man.

I'll miss him for sure. But it's nice to think that he is finally home. Either way, I can't help but think about my name. I hope I can represent his name well.