I have a lot of new friends. (Welcome Friends!)
I'm glad you decided to stay.
To all of you I give you this explanation of my blog:
Most Wednesdays I write about my grandpa.
He was one of my best friends and someone that I learned some of my most important lessons from.
I'm re-posting one of my favorite Grandpa stories.
I was lucky to have some pretty amazing grandpas...three to be exact. The history of our family tree is confusing even to my brother, so I won't try to explain it here...but the end result was a world full of amazing grandparents.
I loved my Grandpa Rasmussen the most. And I don't mean that in a showing favorites kind of way. I loved him more because I gave my heart and soul in taking care of him, and don't they say that you love those you serve?
My grandpa was 93 when he died. For four or five years before he passed away he was mostly blind. He lived alone and did an amazing job of taking care of himself. I would take him grocery shopping, clean his house, pay his bills, take him out to eat, watch Lawrence Welk with him...it was a world filled with culture of sorts.
I called him every night at 10:00 pm. It didn't matter if I had just spent the evening with him. At 10:00, wherever I was, even at Disneyland, I would call Grandpa. He depended on that phone call. My phone call would tell him that it was time to get ready for bed (because he couldn't see the clock).
One afternoon my grandpa called me. The conversation went something like this:
"Noelle, can you come and take me somewhere after work?"
"Sure Grandpa, where are we going?"
"I'm not going to tell you. Just come and when you get here I'll tell you."
I was sure we were going to Arby's. When Grandpa craved something it was an Arby's sandwich and we went there quite a bit. (I tried taking him to Cafe Rio once - to broaden his palate - he preferred Arby's.)
When I pulled up to his house he met me on the front porch. "Come here," he said. I took his arm and helped him off the porch and he led me to the back patio where he had a small glass jar filled with roses.
"Do these look okay?" he asked.
"They're beautiful Grandpa. What are they for?"
"Come on kid, let's just get in the car and I'll tell you where we're going."
He directed me to a house around the corner. I stayed in the car and watched as he shuffled his way to the front door. He knocked on the door and a woman answered a minute later. He handed her the jar of roses and she started to cry. Come to think of it, so did I. I didn't hear what they said, I just saw her give him a big hug before he turned to come back to the car.
He was quite during the drive back to his house. I could tell that he was emotional. When we pulled up into his driveway he turned to me and said:
"Noelle, I think God inspired me to give Lisa those roses today."
"I'm sure you're right," is all I said.
I've thought a lot about that day. My grandpa lived his entire life serving those around him. And yet, at an age where he was more than ready to BE served, he was still looking for ways to give to those around him. We could learn a lesson from my grandpa.