His Hands

One month.  One month since my Grandaddy let his earthly home to return to his Heavenly home where he was greeted by loved ones and the Savior. Never to experience sorrow or pain again, only joy.

 Words cannot express the loss I feel or the tender mercies that have surrounded me through this experience.  I wanted to share the words I spoke at his funeral. I also apologize to those in attendance... my 5-10 minute talk went a "little" over.  This is how I remember him and always will:

    " I want to tell you about my Granddaddy's hands. I LOVED his hands. They were worn and knotted and eat up with arthritis. They were beautiful. They told his story

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        He used those hands to save lives as a pharmacist for over 45 years. He believed in the power of vitamins and healthy living. He always counseled us to use medicine only when needed and take it directly as it was prescribed. And he swore by the power of Anti-b. Now if you don't know my Grandaddy like I do, you'd know it as anti-biotic ointment or if your real fancy, neisporin. But he was convinced it cured what ailed you.

 Skinned knees? 

     antiB 

Pimples?

    antiB

Broken heart? 

     antiB, but I've tried that and it's not working too well.

    He used those hands to work the land and grow plants, vegetables, and fruit. Many of you will remember him in the yard with his coveralls, working outside, hot or cold, with sweat on his brow and a smile on his face. He used those hands to tinker and organize his house. It was always a place of order. His hands were always moving. 

    He used those hands to wrap his arms around you and embrace you in a hug or firm handshake at your greeting. He used those hands to hold babies who loved him dearly and grew to be wonderful people because they were loved by him. When you came into his home, you were family and you always felt wanted. It didn't matter if you'd been over everyday that week or hadn't seen him in months, he always greeted you as you were his favorite person and he'd been waiting ages to see you. It didn't matter if you were living your life right or had transgressions you were ashamed of, he saw you as the child of God you were and treated you with such respect. Now don't get me wrong, he'd offer advice to guide you in the right direction but he did so with so much love. Just like the Savior.

 And he always tried to feed you!  I think that's why the missionaries stopped by so often  you never left his house empty handed. 

     He had healing hands. Those hands held each one of his five children, his eleven grandchildren, and seven great grandchildren but most often, you could find his hands intertwined with his sweetheart, Deraldine. He used those hands to assist in the blessing of each one of my children and his other children and grandchildren. He used those hands to create. He was very artistic although most of the time he tried to draw me I wound up looking like a monkey with a hair bow. Between you and me, I think he did it on purpose. 

     He had serving hands. He served others until his very last day and I know he is serving on the other side. He didn't condition his help, he served freely because he had learned that in the scriptures. He was walking the path of the Savior ever so closely. He was a constant companion to my grandmother. He was her sole caregiver and I got to witness the true meaning of love in watching them together. 

     He had praying hands. Every night before bed, he prayed together with my grandma, as they held hands together. He had so much power in his hands and he used them for good and not so good. When I'd bear my testimony or give a talk at church, I'd sit back down beside him, often with one or two children crawling over me and he'd pat my knee. Didn't have to say a word because that pat said it all. If you were sad or worried, he'd pat your arm and hand and tell you "it would all work out, you just keep trying your best and following the Lord". And it did. Now I'm going to tell  on my grandaddy a bit. He also had some power in that index finger of his. You get him flustered or started acting a fool, he'd point that finger and start a whistlin. And you straightened up real fast. Just with one finger!  He used those hands to hold the hymn book where we would sing off key together, but we sang and I'd give anything to hear that voice again. 

    There's even a rumor he used the hands to spank mischievous hineys but considering all his children were perfect, I doubt those stories could be true. I wouldn't know either way because whenever we'd get in trouble or he'd start to fuss, we'd run straight to grandma and she'd tell him, "Richard, you don't hurt those babies. You leave my babies alone. " and he listened. When grandma said something, it was law. They had a mutual respect for one another and trusted each other in their responsibilities. 

     He used those hands to study his scriptures and read books, he fed his constant desire to learn. He threw away very little because he found value in everything. He was responsibly frugal and searched for the best deals. He was also a sucker for infomercials. You saw it on TV? You can see it in his house! 

My favorite story of my grandfather is a trip we took to Best Buy, we would often go to the mall and get Chinese food, afterwards we would go window shopping at Best Buy to look around.  On this trip, I found two CD singles, which were about a dollar a piece, but looked like the full CD's the cost about $20.  Now before iTunes and technology, you would have to listen to the radio for hours for your favorite song to come one so singles were a big deal, because you could listen to your favorite song over and over again.  

As we were getting ready to leave I had the two CD's in my hand,  Grandaddy wrapped his arm around me and squeezed me real tight and said:

"Shuuugar, what you want Grandaddy to get you?"

"These two CDs." In my most innocent voice.

"Well, too bad.  Coz you ain't getting them."

And y'all we walked right out that store without those CD's!  

And even though I didn't leave with those CDs, the joy and laughter the story brings is priceless. And he gave me so much more than singles I don't even remember.

What I do remember is the softness of his hands that I held, as he told me how much he loved and appreciated me. I remember being able to take care of him in his last weeks, a small return for all the care he gave me. I remember his smile and his laughter and the joy he made me feel whenever he was near. I remember his example of Christ like love. His devotion to his faith and serving others. I remember his fearlessness in being himself. I remember his unsurpassed love for his family. 

I also remember him telling me I should have 12 kids but I don't think that's going to happen this lifetime. 

He taught me life lessons I'll cherish forever. 

I know that because my Savior, Jesus Christ, atoned for every pain, sorrow, ailment, and transgression for each person that ever was or would be, then selflessly gave His life and overcame death to live again, I nor you have been alone in this process. My grandfather was not alone as he battled cancer or on his last day where he endured incredible pain before resting in peace. We are not alone as we grieve the loss of a great man and find joy in his life. And because Christ lives, I know my grandfather will too. He is actively engaged on the other side, cheering us on and loving us. And I know these things because of my testimony of this gospel, the one he held so dear, the one he helped me to find on my own by leaning on his in moments of weakness. He taught me there is always something to be grateful for and find joy in and to always try your best, God works out the rest. I look forward to the day where we will be reunited, never to part, as a family forever. "