My Last Day with Grandpa

Last Tuesday night I had a hard time sleeping, and when I woke up I got ready to drive my grandparents to downtown St. Louis for their doctors appointments.  When I got home that evening I wrote the majority of this blog post.  Little did I know this would be the last day I would get to spend with my grandpa Todd; and as God often works, He began to show me little pieces of Himself even when I wasn’t looking for it. 

When we arrived at the hospital for the doctor's appointments, my grandma, who is a pretty spry and agile lady, helped my grandpa from the car into a wheelchair for a trek through Barnes-Jewish Hospital.  After we walked across the window covered bridge over the city, my grandma pushing my grandpa in the wheelchair, we boarded the elevator and hopped off at the 13^th floor (which apparently does exist in some buildings).

Because of their many visits to this location, my grandparents smoothly maneuvered their way through the large St. Louis hospital, smiling and being helpful to others along the way.  We finally arrive at the waiting room.  My grandparents choose to be seen together because my grandma likes to be able to hear what the doctors say about her husband. 

When the nurse calls out for Mr. and Mrs. Todd, my grandma gets up and walks toward her, and my grandpa politely asks her to wheel him into the back.  She tells him that he must get up and walk on his own.  He says he doesn’t want to, and isn’t sure why she can’t do it for him.  With a loving smile, she politely responded, “You know why,” and helps him from the chair so that he can walk from the waiting room to the back.  Meanwhile the whole waiting room is looking and listening to the exchange.  Though firm, but not rude, my grandma asked of my grandfather only that of which she knew he was capable.

Later in the afternoon as her and I were doing some shopping, she told me that she felt bad because the people in the waiting room didn’t know her true intentions.  She said that she wasn’t being mean, but she loved my grandpa and knew what was best for him.  He doesn’t like to walk much because after two knee replacement surgeries and other bouts with his health, the pain and wear of his strength cause him weariness even while walking short distances.  She told me that though he doesn’t like to, he needs to walk because it keeps him mobile.  He knows that’s why she does it, and subsequently why he doesn’t protest much.  The people in the waiting room didn’t know why she was making a seemingly helpless person, get up and walk, she continued to explain, but after 55+ years together, she recognized that her discernment trumped their limited knowledge.

The whole exchange radiated true love to me.  Someone who wants the best for you even if it stings, physically or emotionally, is a true comrade.  In the same way my grandmother urged my grandfather, so our heavenly Father urges us to be our best.  Though he questioned why she was making him get up and walk, my grandpa ultimately knew the intentions were that of his loving wife who only wants his optimal heath.  He knew this because all her other actions pointed to the fact that she loved him.  Her faithful care, loving spirit, and constant companionship all demonstrated her true commitment to love.  Because of her nature, he knew that she would never seek his demise, but always be working toward his betterment.

We question why God makes us get uncomfortable or experience pain, but we must realize that it is those very experiences that make us into the men and women God wants us to be.  The people in our life don’t always understand our pain or why certain things happen.  They have only a narrow lens.  They can only see what happens in the waiting room, but God can see the whole picture.  He isn’t limited to our waiting room experience.  His love for us and His wisdom, though we sometimes question it, are ultimately the best option; which is why if we are wise, we won’t put up much of a fight.  His character in past situations in scripture and in our lives always point to the fact that if he asks something difficult of us, it is only for our betterment, and refining, never for our failure.  

My grandparents love and support for each other portray an accurate picture of Christ’s love: He gives us what we need, but not always as we would have chosen for ourselves.

When I spent that day with my grandparents I had no idea that it would be the last memory I would get to share with my grandpa, but I’m thankful that the Lord allowed me, if even for a moment, to see past the waiting room.  Before I left my grandparents home that day, my grandpa said, “Come back and see us some time when you have more time!” When I see my grandpa next, it will be on the streets of gold, and I’ll have all the time in the world.

Psalm 42:3-5

³ My tears have been my food
    day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
    “Where is your God?”
⁴ These things I remember

    as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go to the house of God
    under the protection of the Mighty One
with shouts of joy and praise
    among the festive throng.

⁵ Why, my soul, are you downcast?
    Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
    for I will yet praise him,
    my Savior and my God.

Romans 5:3-4

…But we also glory in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance, character; and character, hope.