You never have enough time with those you love. Even if they are 97 years old. 197 wouldn’t have been enough. But God is the creator of life, and he alone can call us home.
As I type this, I get a sharp pain in my chest, because it hurts to think that this world is without my Pepaw anymore. It hurts to think how my father lost his hero this weekend, as well as the hero to all his brothers and sisters. It hurts to know my children won’t get to experience the magical summers he was part of making for all of his grandchildren. But I, along with everyone of his children and grandchildren, will carry his memory with delicacy, and pass it on with pride…
{Pedro and Lucia. Wedding Day.}
{A proud father to his first born son. My grandparents leaving the hosptial.}
{We celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary at the church they were married in San Antonio}
{At their 65th wedding anniversary with 13 of their 15 children (two died very young).}
My little family and I heard my grandpa’s heart was starting to go, so we headed up to see him. He passed away before we could get to him. I was so close…
As I rushed to the hospital I drove through the small town where my life started, and where he built his. I drove past his favorite restaurant, Jerry’s where he would go for birthdays and special Sundays..
I drove past his street where my grandparent’s house stands… where many hours of meals were shared, long chats over grandma’s iced tea on the front porch, endless summer bbq’s with the best brisket you will ever taste, where fireworks would shoot off the back fence, where we gather around him and be serenaded in spanish by his sweet voice and hand made guitar, where we would bust pinatas over birthday celebrations, where he would slice the biggest slivers of watermelon I ever held and passed to all takers with a big grin on his face…I can almost taste it now. I never wanted those summers to end.
I drove past the church of The Aunnunciation where he faithfully attended Mass, in the very front pew, for all the years they lived there. He never missed a Sunday. Where he humbly served his parish and all the parishioners through fish fries and the Holy Name service. To him, God was very real, and the most important thing in his life. Through this church, many of his children and grandchildren were wed and baptized lead by his example. He lived his faith through his actions.
As I pulled up to the hospital, I had that sense of urgency to be with my parents and siblings who had already arrived, and I ran tears streaming down my face through the emergency doors. Was this really happening? Do we really have to say goodbye? It was hard to see so many loved ones with broken hearts, but we stood together surrounding the man we loved so much, and said our goodbyes. I held his hand just as I intended, and told him how thankful I was to him for being open to life and having my dad, the tenth child. I thanked him for the love he gave to each of his 64 grandchildren, and the legacy he left for us to live. I thanked him for being a loving husband to my grandmother for 72 years, and leaving us with the example of what a selfless spouse should be.
When you are with someone who just passed from this earth and into the arms of the Creator, you can’t help but want to go with him. My thirst for heaven has never been stronger.
Rest in eternal bliss sweet Pepaw! We can’t wait to hear your music again one day!
“And with your final heartbeat kiss the world goodbye, then go in peace and laugh on glory’s side. Fly to Jesus, Fly to Jesus, Fly to Jesus and live!”~ from Chris Rice’s song “Come to Jesus”
