When we started this trip, both Mark and I anticipated a week of making memories with each other and with our family and friends. We didn't expect the call that came on Saturday morning, but then, who really does expect that phone call. My dear Grandpa Johnny had slipped into eternity with his Savior. And suddenly, our vacation to South Carolina took a detour to Iowa.
We buried Grandpa today. And though I've known for a while that this day was coming, I've cried often these last few days. As I sat in the DFW airport by myself, memories of the past few days came rushing through my mind.
-Talking to Grandpa's brother, Uncle George, and hearing him share about the last time he saw his brother alive, and how much it meant to him when Grandpa Johnny exclaimed "that's my brother!"
-Watching my Dad and his siblings say goodbye to their father.
-Listening to taps being played as part of Grandpa's military honors graveside service. Watching the soldiers fold the flag and present it to my grandmother. And the watching Uncle George begin to cry.
It was a hard two days, but I'm so thankful we were able make the trip. What a blessing to be surrounded by so many wonderful friends and family.
And now, I'm back in South Carolina while my husband is in Iowa. I'm with his family and he is with mine. Not the vacation we had planned, but I'm working on trusting God, this wasn't a surprise to Him and somewhere in all of this, He has a plan.
But as I trust Him, the tears still fall. Lots of tears. And hopefully, some sleep.
