Grandpa, his podiatrist, and my wedding

Trust me.
It will make sense.

So, as it turns out, when you are trying to finish a master's program and be successful in your job and have relationships with people you love and help one of your Laurel's find the perfect necklace to wear with her prom dress this Saturday and get yourself healthy on a treadmill and fill your spirit with the scriptures (and prayers that last longer than 90 seconds)...yeah...as it turns out, there really is little time for much else.

BUT, I'm finding time for this.

I had my only free night of the week tonight and so when I found out my 96-year old Grandpa wanted to go to his 99 year-old brother Harold's viewing, I just knew I had a free night for a reason.

We got dressed up and went downtown.

Little side note, I haven't seen Harold since the last real birthday party for my Great Aunt Jean. I don't remember the year. But, I think it was her 95th (yes, I have genes in my family that let people live for a REALLY long time) birthday. Regardless, it was quite the party and it was about 4 or 5 years ago. I was standing with my cousin Alee (who really is very pretty) and Harold came up to us. Said, Harold to Alee, "My, aren't you just the prettiest girl I've ever seen." (I'm standing right next to her, mind you.) Alee said, "well, thank you." Harold said, "Really, you are just so pretty." (And yes, I was still standing there.) Harold then turns to me and says, "Well, don't you look just like your father!" Yeah, nice. Have you people seen my dad? I mean, he's handsome, but he's not really what you would think of when you picture a really cute girl...though, in fairness to Harold, it was 4 or 5 years ago and those weren't my cutest years...BUT STILL! So, it was nice when my grandpa told me I looked pretty tonight. You just can never hear that too much when you spent too much time in the "not cute" years.
But, I digress...

We walked, arm in arm, into the mortuary. As we approached the casket, I almost stopped breathing. There in the casket, dressed all in white, was my grandpa. I mean, it was Harold, but for a few brief moments I saw my grandpa (he and Harold could have been twins) and I started to cry.

I'm not ready for that to be him.

Grandpa had a great time seeing family and old friends. He spoke Danish with a nephew who also served in Denmark on his mission. He told two 70+ year old twins about their aunt who grandpa and his friend Walt Sontagg used to play "piggly wiggly" with (and ironically enough, Grandpa had just been telling me about that family of girls..."old maids"...one of the girls was 25...actually, he and Walt didn't have any money to go out much and so they would go to different houses on the weekends to hang out with girls who didn't have dates...yes, I learned tonight my grandpa was a "hanger outer"!). He told Harold's great-grandchildren stories of Harold's childhood. I loved watching him and listening to him.

There weren't many there. And as Grandpa and I walked out and got into the car, I said to him, "I'm not ready for that to be you yet, Grandpa." He reminded me he IS 96. I then said, "But, when it happens, do you have any idea how many people will be there? Do you realize how many love you? Do you see how many lives you've blessed and impacted?" (no disrespect to Harold, of course.)

Grandpa was quiet. I wondered if he knew what I said was true. I wondered if he was imagining how many would come to pay their respects when it's his time.

After a few moments of silence, Grandpa said, "I'm pretty sure my podiatrist and his wife would come. They really seem to like me. You know, they just can't seem to say enough good about me!"

I laughed out loud.
Hard.
Grandpa laughed too.

I get busy and even though he only lives 5 miles from my house, I don't see Grandpa nearly as much as I should. I don't call as much as I should. But, after seeing "him" in that casket tonight, I just can't not take advantage of every minute. I need to be better.

As I was leaving him at his house, I gave him a hug, told him I loved him, and told him I'd call him again, sooner rather than later.
And as I walked back to my car, Grandpa called out, "Laurel?"
"Yeah, Grandpa?"
"We're going to find you a husband. We just have to."
I told him I was trying. He said he was praying.

You see, Grandpa and I have a little "joke" that he won't leave this life until I'm married. He's not always sure he can hold out. I've never intentionally tried to drag it out. And the man could easily live to be 100, so I still have some time...

But, it's nice to know Grandpa hasn't given up.
And that he's holding out for me...
He's still praying.
And I'm still trying.

And when it happens, Grandpa is going to be there.
And I'm even inviting the podiatrist...and his wife too!