Beach trip with Grandpa

         Today is the day. When Mommy told us, last week, that Grandpa was going to take us to the beach, we all got excited. Bobby jumped up and down. Jenni started cheering and laughing. I simply smiled and looked forward to the day.

         Now, it is Saturday. It is the day for the promised trip to the beach and we are all sitting and waiting. We are dressed with our clothes over our bathing suits, and we have dry underthings in our bags for coming back home. We are all sitting on the couch, and we are looking out the front window. Grandpa's car pulls up in the drive.

         "Grandpa's here! Grandpa's here!" Jenni and Bobby shout in unison as they jump up off the couch and run towards the front door.

         "Okay, okay," Mom calls from the kitchen. "Calm down. He'll make to the door in his own time." She is smiling as she comes out, and as she dries her hands on a dish-towel she adds, "No running in the house."

         "Whoah!" Grandpa exlaims as the twins nearly knock him over. "Are we a bit excited today?" Grandpa asks.

         "Yes, yes!" Bobby and Jenni agree with big smiles on their faces and adamant nods of their heads.

         Mom smiles at him and asks, "Are you sure you can handle them, Dad? They can be a handful."

         Grandpa chuckles as he hugs my brother and sister and assures her, "I'm sure I can handle them. I handled you kids when you were growing up, didn't I?"

         Once everyone settles down, we grab up our bags and head out the door. Jenni and Bobby are skipping and dancing along side of Grandpa as we head toward the car. I, being the oldest, simply carry my bag and follow behind them.

         The ride to the beach is fun. Jenni and Bobby entertain us with the singing of silly songs and their constant chatter keeps things from getting dull. I sit up in the front seat with Grandpa. He smiles all the while. It seems as if he's as happy as we are about spending the day together.

         On the way to the beach Grandpa stops off at the store to buy things for our picnic lunch. "I didn't want to buy anything you wouldn't eat," he explains as we walk into the store. "I thought you might like to pick out your own lunch."

         We're finally there. The sun is shining. The water looks clean and blue. The twins are raring to go. However, Grandpa stops them from simply running off to go jump in the water. "You picked out all this junk at the store," he tells them. "So, if you expect to be able to eat it when it comes to be lunch time, you better help me carry all these bags out of the car."

         We pick a spot on the beach, everything is organized to Grandpa's liking, and the outer clothes have been stripped off. Grandpa lets the twins go. "Okay!" he tells them. "Have fun!"

         As I turn to lay out my beach towel, Grandpa turns to me. "Charla, darling."

         "Yes, Grandpa?" I smile up at him.

         "Aren't you going to go get in the water?"

         "Maybe a little later," I tell him. "I want to work on my tan and sit with you."

         There is no response to this. Grandpa simply smiles, nods, and sits in his chair under his umbrella.

         The twins are playing in the water. They don't go out far. Although they know how the swim, the big waves on the beach scare them a little. They are laughing, splashing, and they seem to be having fun. Grandpa has dozed off in his chair, and I'm laying here watching my little brother and sister play.

         It is time for lunch. I reach over and nudge Grandpa. "Grandpa," I call softly. I don't want to frighten him out of sleep. I simply want to wake him up.

         The twins come running up to me and Grandpa before we can call them up for their lunch. Bobby has something in his hand, and they are calling out excitedly. "Look what we found!"

         "What is that?" Grandpa asks.

         "It's a bottle with a piece of rolled up paper in it," Jenni explains.

         "Well, now," Grandpa says as he takes the bottle away from Bobby. "Give that here and go over to the water fountain to rinse off your hands." As he lays the bottle on the ground next to him, he explains, "It's time for lunch and you don't want to eat your food with dirty hands."

         After lunch if over, I put a fresh layer of sunblock on the twins. I'm pretty sure that the one Mom put on this morning has worn off. They squirm and wiggle, wanting to get back out into the water. They complain when Grandpa tells them they have to wait awhile to go back in.

         When it is okay to get back into the water, I decide to go down to the waves with the twins, and I play with them for a little bit. Yet, play in the water is not as fun for me as it is for them. I prefer to enjoy being out in the sun and spending time with my Granpa. So, I go back up to be with Granpa and lie in the sun.

         "Done already?" he asks.

         "Yes," I tell him. "I just wanted to cool off a little bit."

         "Oh," he smiles, "Okay."

         As I lie here drying off in the sun, I see that Grandpa has reached a hand down and he has grabbed up the bottle with the paper in it. He is turning it over in his hands and looking at it with a funny look in his eyes. After a minute, he says, "Did you know that I wrote a letter to your Grandmother?"

         "Grandma died over two years ago," I answer.

         "I know that," he says as he turns to me. "But, I wrote her a letter, anyway."

         "What did you do with it?"

         "I rolled it up and tied it with a ribbon just like this one. I tucked it into a wine bottle just like this one, and I threw it into the ocean," he explained.

         "What happened to it?" I ask.

         "I don't know," he shakes his head. "That was a long time ago, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of it since."

         After Grandpa says this, we get quiet. We sit back and watch the twins in the water, and Grandpa dozes back off. I reach over and take the bottle out of his hands, and take the letter out. After reading what it says, I wake Grandpa up and show it to him.

         My Dearest Maria,

         It has been six months since you left me to go home to our loving Father in Heaven. It seems more like six years. Our home is so empty and quiet without you in it, and I find myself wandering the rooms looking to see where you are hiding. I smell your perfume in the bedroom, and I hear you singing in the kitchen. Yet, when I get there, you are gone.

         I know that you are in a better place, and that you are out of pain. I am grateful, to God, for that. But, in your passing my pain has increased to the point that it is almost unbearable. I miss you so much.

         I know that there must be some reason for me to be left on this Earth, or else I would not still be here. Yet, I have not figured out what that reason is. I only want to have served my purpose so that I can come home and be with you once again.

         I hope that you are able to look down, once in awhile, and see how big our wonderful grandchildren are getting. I hope that you can hear my thoughts. I hope that you know how much I love you. I hope that you are as eager to have me be with you as I am to be there. I hope that you still love me.

         I will let you go, now. If I do not, I will not be able to get on with the life that is left to me. I will let you go, but I will not stop loving you. I will not stop missing you, and I will not stop waiting to be with you. I will always be yours.

From Your Loving Husband,

Matthew

         "It's my letter," he says with tears in his eyes.

         At the bottom we read, "I know, my love. I miss you too. I am watching over you, and will see you soon."

         "How can that be?" I ask.

         "I don't know," he shakes his head. "But, I was always taught that anything was possible through the hands of God."

         I nod in agreement. Grandpa clutches the letter to his heart, and he lays his head back and dozes off once more. The sun dries the tears on his face as he takes his nap, and I sit in wonder of the power of God.

         As the sun starts to go down, Grandpa decides that it is time to go. He has folded the letter, and he has tucked it into his pocket. Not another word is said about it. We simply pack up the rest of our things. The twins change into dry clothes. When they are done, we walk back to the car and head towards home.

         The twins are sleeping in the back seat. Grandpa and I are quiet. Neither one say much, and what we do say has nothing to do with the letter. We simply ride along in companionable silence, and I notice that he reaches up to touch his pocket every once in awhile. I wonder what he thinks. I can only imagine how he is feeling. I hope he knows how much I love him.

         We are home, now. Grandpa is helping Dad carry Jenni and Bobby up to their beds. They didn't even wake up when we slammed the car doors shut. I wonder if they are even curious about the bottled letter that they found. I doubt it, though. They are still little.

         Grandpa and Dad are back downstairs, and they are standing by the front door saying their goodbyes. I go over to my Grandfather and give him a big hug. "Thank you for today," I say.

         "No problem, Darlin'," he says as he squeezes me back. It was my pleasure."

         "Did you tell Dad about. . ." I start to say. Yet, at the shake of Grandpa's head, and the look in his eyes, I switch the last part of my sentence to, "the junk the twins picked out to have for lunch?"

         "I sure did," he assured me.

         It is Sunday morning, and we are getting ready to go to church. The twins are getting washed up after eating their breakfast, and Dad is making sure that their car seats are strapped in tight.          The phone rings.

         Mom gets done with washing the last of the sticky off of Jenni's face just before she turns to answer the phone. She still has the rag in her hand. Yet, as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, she drops the rag to the floor, and her hand goes to her mouth. She begins to cry and calls out for Dad.

         Grandpa died in his sleep last night. His housekeeper came in to do her usual duties, this morning, and found him. He was lying on his back in bed, he had a smile on his face, and he was clutching the letter to his heart. He has finally gone home to be with Grandma.

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