My Grandpa Gene

December 21, my grandpa went home to be with Jesus.

I received a message from my mom to call home and once again I found myself on the other side of the ocean receiving news that a loved one was suddenly gone. As with last time, my first thought was "I want to go home." With it being the holiday season, however, I wasn't able to get a flight until Christmas Day and will spend Christmas eve night in London.

It's hard when all you want to do is be with your family. But, I'm also thankful for the respite before the storm. I've had a few days to just be with me and my grief and Jesus before diving into the frenzy of details that comes with a death (apart from the frantic search for plane tickets, but God also provided a very caring and helpful travel agent here in Scotland for me). It never seemed fair to me that the first thing you need to do when someone dies is plan an event. It would seem more fair just to sit and cry for a week.

I had a dream about my grandpa last night. In it he called me "sweets"...a nickname he often bestowed upon me or my mom or aunt. Though he was quiet and reserved, my grandpa knew how to love.

He and my grandma have been a constant in my life. When many things seemed chaotic, unstable, always changing, they were a pillar of security and strength. I lived with my grandma and grandpa for nearly five years when I was a kid, and those are five years I'd never give back. Those were a foundation for who I am as a person and also for what my relationship with my grandma and grandpa has been. They are two of my dearest friends, and were second parents to me my whole life.

My mind this last day or two has been flicking through memories of my grandpa. I want to share a few with you that you may know him more, and that I can capture some of these things.

- camping trips and fishing with grandpa. I never understood why we had to wake up so early to go fishing, but we were up, before dark. Grandma would be fixing sandwiches and making coffee, which grandpa would put in his light teal-colored thermos that he also took to the mines when he worked there. We'd head off to the lake and fish out of grandpa's canoe. He'd catch fish like magic, reeling in one after another. I'd get excited when the tip of my pole would quiver, only to discover I'd catch yet another batch of weeds. His fishing skills always seemed larger than life.

- many years of picking out the Christmas tree. I have a number of memories of walking through the snow looking for the perfect tree. I'd see pines that would look good and point them out, but grandpa kept walking. I knew he had tree-picking skills that were beyond me. He'd spot the tree. Carefully walk around it, inspect the trunk, hem and haw. Then take his hand saw and haul it out of the woods and into the basement for some trimming and to dry out. And he was always right...the tree was perfect.

- I got to go hunting with grandpa one year. Hunting is a sacred activity for my grandpa. We went up to the hunting shack and it seemed like something out of a book. We drove to the middle of nowhere, walked even further in, and crossed over a beaver dam to get to the shack. We slept in the one room in beds that creaked and was heated by a wood stove. I got to go out to "help" grandpa in the deer stand the next day. It was my job to look for the deer and tell him when they were close. He didn't get anything...he never got anything unless he was alone. But he invited us along, just the same.

- Labor Day Family camp with Ma and Pa Potter. I desperately wanted to go to Family Camp one summer. ALL my friends were going (and I wanted to invite a few more), and I wanted to go too. Somehow me and a number of friends went to camp that year and Grandma and Grandpa came along as our chaperones. We were one, big, crazy family. All my friends and the camp staff called them Ma and Pa and it stuck from that day.

- Grandpa's labors of love: My grandpa was a handyman. He was always tinkering on something, and his house is full of unfinished projects. But, he was always there to lend a hand. I remember the one summer he came out and single-handedly built a handicap access ramp for one of the cabins at camp. He put so much work into our church building...he would be there late into the night hours and up early and off again the next morning. He built me a doll house as a kid, not able to finish it in time for Christmas and promising to add the windows and doors later. After a few years, I drew them on with marker.

-The cribbage champion! Cribbage is a family game. Grandma shares about when her and grandpa were first married, they didn't have a TV so would play hours and hours of Cribbage. You cannot be a part of our family if you don't know cribbage. Whenever we get together, to this day, the cribbage board is always near and someone always asks, "you wanna play a round of cribbage?" My grandpa LOVED this game and was so good at it. And it is because of him, I have had to be shrewd at counting my points, because he inspects every hand and if you miss something, he made sure to point it out!

-Grandpa's generosity. My grandparents have been a great source of courage and love as I have pursued missions. They put on event after event with me and for me. They have given out of their own pockets for what I do, and they have always told me how proud they are of me. When I come home, often broke and wondering how I was going to continue in this lifestyle, grandpa would always come, quietly and with eyes full of love and slip some cash into my hand.

- a hard worker. My grandpa could not sit still if you tied him down. When he "retired" he'd be out in the yard all day or working on the church building. He valued hard work...sometimes too much! He'd shovel the driveway all by hand because the snowplow was broken...wanting to fix it rather than buy a new one. I find it fitting that he died while working, not while sitting on his recliner watching TV.

-a father to many. My grandpa is a father-figure to so many. I'm sure there are many that could share stories of how he was there for him. He has a way of quietly expecting better things out of people. He would take camping trips with young boys who didn't have fathers and just be there for them. He looked forward to those times so much. He was a constant male figure in me and my brothers' lives when other men had a tendency to come and go. He was always around for others at church, the young people at work, at Youth For Christ, Covenant Park....he never took it on himself to officially be a mentor to young people, and yet many seemed drawn to him as such.


Well, there's obviously so much more to be remembered about him, but I just wanted to share a bit of what was on my heart today. In many ways, this is what I'm looking forward to most when I get home with my family...pooling our memories together, crying and laughing over them and honoring a man whom we've all had the privilege of having our lives impacted by. I am who I am today because of my grandpa and I'm sure everyone in our family could say the same. He was a great man.