Seasons of Life and Death

The leaves are turning their golden color as they do every fall if the drought hasn't robbed them of their color. Just like every year once again the season is changing from one to another. Sixteen years ago this fall our family entered a new season. My mother became fatherless. My grandma became a widow and I the youngest grandchild lost my last living grandfather.

Warm with the heat of summer was the day my grandpa went with the doctor. Six weeks later when we went to his funeral the air was cold and the wind blew hard and the sun never came out. On that stifling  summer day the doctor told my grandpa that he had cancer and there was nothing that could be done. The only thing left to do was to spend time with family. So he did. They took family photos. My grandma isn't smiling in any of them. Already she was mourning the loss of her soul mate.

All to soon grandpa became bed ridden. Mother and I moved into grandma and grandpas house. Someone remained always at grandpa's bedside keeping watch lest he should slip away from this earth alone.

I fed grandpa creamy custard and cold jello with a silver spoon. Our eyes would meet as I stood on a chair by grandpa's bed. Grandpa didn't talk anymore and I'll never know what went through his brain as his youngest grandchild cared for him.

I was six years old and those are the only memories I have of my grandpa.

The hospice lady came often which I thought was very nice because she would bring me coloring pages. I don't remember the pictures, but I think they had to do with something about helping little brains fathom the idea of death. I wonder if the hospice lady knew that even at such a young age the fact that I was witnessing my grandpa dying was a good thing from God.

One day all of us grandchildren played outside all day long. Mom summoned me into the house. I went into the room where all of the aunts and uncles were standing around grandpa's bed. Grandpa's eyes were open yet he didn't seem to be there. Mom held me close and told me grandpa would die soon. I took it all in and then ran out to play. While the grandchildren were running and screaming without a care in the world Grandpa went to be with his Savior.

    Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
        I will fear no evil,
    for you are with me;
        your rod and your staff,
        they comfort me.
(Psalm 23:4 ESV)

Grandpa's last season of life had been a transition of life on this earth to eternal life. With his Savior by his side grandpa went down into the valley of the shadow of death. There was pain, but grandpa came out unscathed into his eternal home.

    “Death is swallowed up in victory.”
    “O death, where is your victory?
        O death, where is your sting?”
(1 Corinthians 15:54-55 ESV)

 

Outside the window of grandpa's bedroom that October day the leaves lay dead and brown. Inside the house was grandpa's shell of body not representing lifelessness, but rather the hope of life with God forever. Our family was in a new season and feeling some what uncertain on how to procede, but God in his grace carried us through. 

Seasons come and go every single year, but our hope in the Lord remains steady and firm every single day.