I never knew either of my grandfathers. My mom’s dad had died before I was born. I met my father’s dad a couple of times, by he passed when I was young.
When I was 14, my grandmother on my mother’s side remarried. For the first time in my life I had someone to call Grandpa. I loved him the moment I met him, when I saw the look in his eyes when my grandmother was in the room- goodness he loved her. During her last days he stayed by her side. In the end, they were married 13 years.
Today I learned that Grandpa Floyd passed away. It happened yesterday morning. This afternoon I found his obituary. Even though I hadn’t seen him in a few years, he crossed my mind often. (He got the chance to meet both C and Big E, though I know they don’t remember the encounter.) I’m glad my grandmother met him. I’m thankful she found someone to travel her last years with, and I’m grateful that they were both believers. One day we will meet again. Until that day, goodbye Grandpa Floyd. ❤️❤️