Bud

We got the sad phone call this morning that my Grandpa Bud went home to Jesus. He was not technically my Grandpa, but served as a perfect example that God makes people into a family, not blood. He was incredibly selfless, kind, and just as sweet as a human being can possibly be. He was a skilled handyman and cook, and he was very giving. He made a pig-shaped cutting board for our wedding present, which is one of my dearest treasures. He gave Kendra her first fishing pole. Who knows how many loaves of fresh "Bud bread" I ate over the years? And like all cooks, there were the occasional mishaps--the clam chowder/spaghetti stew comes to mind... As a teenager, I remember him "looking for boys" in my closet and under my bed. As a college student, I remember him taking me deep sea fishing on his boat, The Sinbad, at 4 a.m. As a new mom, I remember him scooping Kendra into his arms and a look sweeping over his face that showed the depths of his kindness, gentleness, and joy like I'd never seen. I praise God that I can rejoice in the midst of my sadness, because I know firsthand that Bud is in heaven. When he was hospitalized in Portland more than 10 years ago, when we lived there, my husband visited Bud daily, and had the divine privilege of walking him through the salvation prayer. (I know some of you who read my blog do not share my faith--If you'd like me to explain what I mean by "salvation prayer", just let me know, and I'd be happy to share.) Thank you, Lord! I am thankful to the innermost of my being for the absolute knowledge that Bud is with You, and yet I will miss him dearly.

blackberry picking with Grandma Mamie and Bud, and my brother Levi, during my college days

Grandma Mamie and Bud with Kendra, when she was 1 month old