The death of my grandfather from the perspective of a six year old. |
I was six years old when my grandfather went to be with the Lord – his name was Frank Root. My grandfather was a kind man and was a school teacher. I can remember him helping me learn a poem for a church presentation. He took the time to help me learn it and I surprised my parents and grandmother as I recited it. It is strange the memories that stay with us. I remember my grandfather on his riding lawnmower and driving his blue car. I remember him getting ready for work and being in the bathroom putting Listerine (the mouthwash) on his head. I think he made have had a cut in his head and was using that as a treatment to kill the germs. (That is what I thought as a child) I also remember every morning he would eat his bowl of bran flakes. I don’t remember him ever raising his voice to me and he always encouraged me in whatever I was doing. My grandfather had heart problems and he died at the hospital from a coronary thrombosis. My grandmother was with him when he died. My mother did not make it to the hospital in time. I was told my grandfather was with the Lord and I would not see him again until I went to heaven. So, in my mind – grandpa just left and went on a long vacation. I felt like he didn’t tell me good-bye because he would see me again someday. I was not taken to the funeral or visitation. It was the first time my baby sister and I had been left with someone besides my grandparents. I remember the lady who stayed with us kept asking me what she could do to help mom. I finally told her she could clean out the refrigerator. So, she did and my mom was so embarrassed when she returned to find out the lady cleaned the refrigerator. I have no idea why I told her to clean the refrigerator out – perhaps I had run out of things for her to do. My grandmother and parents must have grieved in private – because I don’t remember them crying. I remember going to my grandmother’s house and feeling like it was such a lonely place without grandpa. I missed him so much and wondered why and where grandpa went. The wonderful thing is I know I will see him again in heaven someday. I will cherish the precious memories of him that I have – the most vivid one of him giving me a red Hawthorne bike with training wheels. I was around five or six at the time. I learned to ride a two wheel bike on it and while learning to ride I ran into a tree and scraped my knee. Luckily, the bike suffered no damage. I was told that he thought the Lord would be calling him home soon and so he wanted to see me receive the gift of the bike. The Lord has given me a precious gift with these memories of my grandfather that remain with me and I look forward to seeing him again when the Lord calls me home. The thought I want to leave you with is that children see death in a child like perspective. I saw death as nothing to fear because to me it was a long vacation for my grandfather and I knew someday I would see him again. |