by Candace Beane
I am convinced that God gives us special people in our lives to rescue us, and my hero was my Grandpa Oliver. Even though he died as poor as he came into this world, he didn’t die without investments in eternity! He wasn’t a preacher, but he helped many by just walking alongside them. He didn’t have teeth, but he had a contagious joy. And he didn’t have a spotless past, but he brightened the future for countless others. When I was young, he was my entire world.
I have already shared three earlier writings from around the time he passed. This is another journal from around that time. It speaks of a great loss that my grandpa himself went through. Losing a son.
The Future’s Construction
Rain had not fallen since Monday, and the forecast for the rest of the week appeared clear. Delighted with the pleasant cooperation of the elements, three generations of men ascended weatherworn rungs to their occupational task. Balancing on corrupt shingles and bare planks, Freddy and Leon discussed the remedy for the dilapidated rooftop; as Paul stood agilely on the peak, Teddy poised himself on the roof’s slope, both soaking up the beams of the sun. Teddy looked lovingly on his powerful father and short yet sturdy grandfather — he loved them so much! Paul glanced over at his older brother and followed his gaze to the two men,
“Whatcha thinking, Teddy?”
Teddy, turning his head slightly, without taking his eyes off of the planning duo, “Just thinking about the future, and how Dad is gonna need someone to take care of him when he gets up in age.”
Silence fell. Both boys were deep in thought; Paul broke the silence, “It’s hard to imagine him getting older, but I guess we will all just pitch in to take care of him.”
Almost too eager to get the words out, Teddy stated, “I’ll be the one to take care of him, I’ll make sure that he and mom are happy and well looked after!”
That night after the day’s work was over and the crew had retired to their beds, Teddy’s brain tumor caused yet another devastating seizure that ravished his body! All construction ceased as the lives of the men were wholly wrapped up in the concern for Teddy. The rain beat hard upon the hospital’s windows, as the youth that had constructed his future around the care of his one day, aged father, lay in a hospital bed fighting for his own future! Unfortunately, several months later, he lost that battle!
The rain had ceased, but the beating sound of only three hammers created a dreary melody that caused the hammer holder’s heart to ache and their eyes to well up with tears. The only consolation that kept their tears at bay was the promise of their heavenly reunion.