Mister Chapter X

Chapter 10 - 1992

            “Don’t forget, I’m going to get baby Danny out of the nursery after the service is over.  You’ll be sure to let them know, won’t you?”  Grampy stopped me on my way downstairs to bring our second child, Mark Daniel, in with the other toddlers before the morning message.

            “I’ll be sure to tell them,” I promised.

            Mark and I had married two months after telling the news of my pregnancy and Shelli, our beautiful baby girl, had been born later that spring. We were blessed with a son nearly two years later, in March, 1990.

            Because both kids were ‘firsts’ - first children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, niece and nephew, and because most of the family all gathered at the same church, there was often much confusion in the rush to be the one to take them out of the nursery after services.

            I had noticed, in the last year-and-a half, or so, that Grampy began shuffling more and more as he walked, and he was no longer called upon to preach if the new pastor needed someone to fill in.

            His last sermon was forever etched in my mind.  Once an authoritative preacher, who’s strong voice captured the congregations’ attention while quoting passage after passage of scripture,  he had seemed to lose his stride more than once that time, with long pauses as he fought to remember verse or reference.  After a particularly long silence, scanning our faces as we secretly willed him to continue, he ended his sermon abruptly with a passage from the book of Philippians.

            “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

            Grampy had halted and looked around, first at the pianist, then at the congregation.  He felt for something in his pocket, then flipped through his Bible, the seconds ticking deafeningly behind us on the wall clock.

            Jim, my father-in-law and song leader, quickly went up to the podium, and led everyone in a short prayer, after which, he thanked Grampy and told everyone to turn to page 355 in our hymnals.

            I made a promise to myself then and there, to memorize for myself the passage that suddenly seemed so important for Grampy to leave with us, my sense of nostalgia warning me to sit up and pay attention.  I had just witnessed the end of Grampy’s powerful, spirit-blessed career as a preacher.

            After that day, his smile remained just as bright as ever, but I could sense a war going on underneath.  He appeared to be perplexed that old age had finally caught up with him, after being a leader physically and spiritually in his home, church and business for more than half a century.

            Now, I had to find a way to get down to the nursery to get Danny before he could beat me to it.  The stairs were steep and I had been warned by some church members that it was too dangerous for him to maneuver the stairs with Danny in his arms.

            I breathed a sigh of relief as I quickly reached the nursery door and gathered my son to show Grampy he didn’t have to go all the way downstairs to get him, after all.

            “There’s my boy!” he thundered as Danny ran to him, hugging his knees. “I was just on my way to get you, but I guess your mother decided to bring you to me, instead.  Now wasn’t that nice of her!” Grampy beamed at me.

            “I sat in the back and decided to beat the rush,” I was thankful I hadn’t hurt his feelings.

            Driving home with Mark and the kids, I vowed I would visit more than just once a week to help Gram with her housekeeping.

            That night, I received a call from Gram, her words cryptic, telling me Grampy wanted to speak to me.

            “Hello? Hello? I was wondering if you could come help me reset my Christian radio settings in my car,” Grampy’s voice was insistent. “I think someone’s been in my car and played with the radio, and now I can’t find the program I like.”

            “Sure, Grampy.  I’ll be there in the morning and walk you through it.”

            Gram came back on the phone and thanked me before hanging up, her lack of explanation telling me there was more to the story.

            The next morning was uneventful as I sat in the car, showing Grampy how to reset his radio, doubtful anyone else had manipulated his settings. Satisfied that the job was complete, he walked in the direction of the bookstore, now being run by his youngest son and daughter-in-law, and I went in search of Gram.

            “Glad I could help him out,” I began, hoping Gram would fill me in on her thoughts about the phone call last night and this morning’s mission in Grampy‘s car.

            It wasn’t the first time Grampy had asked Gram to call me so he could discuss a pressing need or thought.  I had always been grateful I could assist him and didn’t think much of it until recently, when the calls became more frequent and urgent.

            “He’s getting more forgetful, lately,” Gram said. “He’s been tested, and we’re told he has Alzheimer’s disease.  We’re taking measures to make sure he’s safe here at home, trusting the Lord each day.” She was speaking of herself and her only daughter, who had come home to help out.

            “I hope you don’t mind the silly calls, sometimes.  It makes him feel better to talk to you,” she said, sheepishly.

            Gram and I had developed an adult relationship that was loving and frank, so I looked her square in the eye.

            “Gram, you know I love Grampy more deeply than if he was my very own father.  I consider it an honor to be here for you both for as long as you need me.  If he called me every night of the week, I would be happy to talk to him.  I can never repay either of you for your love all these years, and I love you back so much, it hurts.  I want you to know I’m always available to help.”

            Gram, never one to get mushy and sentimental, said, “We’re very thankful for you, dear.” And that was that.