Grandpa

Tomorrow my grandpa would have been 99 years old. 

He passed away at the beginning of this year, before Covid descended. Looking back I am so grateful we were able to grieve together and celebrate his life with a funeral and burial. 

I held my grandpa in high esteem. He wasn't bitter about being interned during the war. He was faithful to Jesus. He was a pastor but not necessarily a preacher. His messages were always refreshingly short. There was never the arm waving, dramatic story, or voice fluctuations but the congregation was always left with something profound. He had a nice singing voice and if I close my eyes I can hear him singing hymns and Christmas songs while my Auntie Ruth played the piano. I can remember throwing a baseball in the backyard of their home in Anaheim. He had been through hardship but he wasn't hardened. At one point him and my grandma lived in a house with no working toilet even. Having been called into ministry, they didn't have a lot of money, but they were both hard workers and not one to complain. Over the years I would hear tidbits about his ministry and life's work through people - he married us, visited us, called me into his office one day, and so on. He was poetic and loved my grandma. Before she passed, I can't recall when the two of them weren't together. An intellectual for sure. I can still muster the distinct smell of his study. He had a big wooden table with a swivel chair and the back wall had floor to ceiling bookcases filled with biblical references and studies. He loved tempura, sashimi, and vanilla ice cream. His wasn't big on emotion but his eye always had a twinkle and oftentimes a thought would come out under his breath that I was lucky enough to hear. He was generous. One of my most memorable times with him was when he took us grandchildren to Japan with the senior adult tour he was leading. He often led the family in singing the doxology at events and hangouts. His faith was true and not just a vocation. I'm sure he is deeply pleased that his children and grandchildren love Jesus. 

"There is no sorrow without joy and no joy without sorrow, this side of heaven. They strength each other and often accompany each other." 

Today at church we celebrated seniors and ironically without my input, we sang the doxology. While we practiced I could see him and grandma, and our whole family, those who have passed and those who are still living, side by side on our knees, facing the radiant throne of Christ together, in complete awe, and surrender, and praise. 

So I bring my sorrow and trade it for joy today. For one day, this exact picture will happen. I am sure of it. A gift and testament to my grandfather's legacy of following Jesus, which has so graciously carried on in his children and grandchildren. 

Till that day Grandpa.