Again, it has been a sad, hard week for my family. On Sunday, April 22, 2012 at 7:15 PM, my Grandpa Flegel breathed his last and entered into his eternal reward. We rejoice that his earthly suffering and unhappiness with his body's limitations is over and that he's been reunited with Grandma. We are thankful that the end happened quickly, even though we were unprepared for the suddenness of it all. But, overshadowing the joy we feel for him, we are saddened by the loss.
It is difficult to think of stories of Grandpa that do not involve Grandma. They were always together at the house...or Grandpa was just coming and going (to the field, an auction, town, somewhere)...but his presence was always there even if he wasn't physically there. I remember as a young girl begging Grandma to let us go to the barn to watch Grandpa milk the cows. She'd tell us one place that we could stand, but Grandpa would let us come a bit closer. We'd smell the damp, warm, cow-stink cellar of the barn and watch Grandpa walk between the cows in the diary. We'd get a bit restless and Grandpa would tell us where to go look for the newest batch of kittens. Good times.
I remember going to the freezer at snack time and getting the ice cream to make root beer floats and finding the spoon still in the container from Grandpa's late night snacking from the night before. He always liked sweet things...
The one thing that I'll always think about when I think about Grandpa were his large hands. His large, strong hands from my youth that always appeared rough and tough and dirty. There was a powerful strength in his hands. There was safety in his hands. His hands told stories. He had the hands of a farmer that had worked hard for his entire life. Even in the end when his hands were shaky and unsteady, the lifetime of hard work still shown through the trembling. My last image of Grandpa is in his casket with his well-worn hands wrapped around a glass jar filled with soil from his farm...the place that he worked, toiled, sweated over...raised a family...and smiled over the legacy left in his children, grandchildren and great-grand children. It is a good last memory of Grandpa.
Grandpa was a somewhat difficult person to be close to. I've been told that "Flegel's never give you a straight answer". I think we all learned that unique trait from Grandpa. He'd always answer questions in the manner that seemed to fit his fancy...whether it truly answered your question or not. On Easter, we picked Grandpa up from Warwick to go to Elaine's for dinner. He was discussing with Jut that since they wouldn't let him drive, he just needed a horse so that he could do his errands. Jut asked him a question about his experience with horses. Grandpa chuckled and changed the subject. Typical Grandpa. You just never knew where your conversations with him were going to lead...because it was rarely in the direction that you had intended. When I was younger, I generally thought that he just couldn't hear me and didn't really know what I had asked but now I believe he just led the conversation in the direction of his choosing. It wasn't bad...it was just typical Grandpa.
One thing that I know without a doubt is that Grandpa loved all of us grand-kids and all the great-grands. He always came to our special functions at church. He and Grandma attended my high school and college graduation. They even came to GR one weekend and picked me up to take me home....I didn't know that I'd survive the trip when he made an illegal left-handed turn on to the Beltline, but they were always there. They helped me move into my first apartment in Jackson. They visited me in my first home in Algonac. All the major events in my life until now included my grandpa and grandma.
Grandpa loved babies and toddlers. Mom captured a great picture of Grandpa holding C at Easter. Grandpa loved holding the babies. He thought that my babies were particularly heavy and always wondered what I fed them. He couldn't pick up X or C this year. But, he never turned down the opportunity to hold C and he loved when X would climb up on his lap. It always made him smile. At Warwick, he'd always have us go out to the main room because he liked to show the kids off and let everyone see them. He loved watching the little ones run around his house. It gave him joy. And only once after Grandma's funeral, did I ever hear him say anything negative about all their racket...and even when he said that I wasn't sure how much he was joking, complaining or just stating the obvious.
Grandpa fell in January and ended up in the hospital. In February, he was moved to Warwick. In March, we celebrated his 97th birthday with a family party at Warwick and the next day, my aunt took him home for his final visit. In April, he joined the family for Easter, but then he entered the hospital with pneumonia and was also diagnosed with CHF a week later. Things looked bleak. But, he was released on Saturday, April 21 back to Warwick. He looked good. He sat up and had some good conversation with my aunts and his brother and sister. On Sunday, my aunt stopped in and he wasn't good. By 4, hospice had been called in and evaluated him with just a few hours remaining. By 7:15, he was gone. It was quick. Dad called us just as we were leaving church for the evening. So, we went over and sat with the family while we waited for Grandpa's shell to be picked up. It was sad but a blessing to know his earthly suffering was over.
The next week went quickly. The family congregated on Wednesday for visitation. While at visitation, we received word that his newest great-grandson Brock Clifford Neilson Flegel was born. He will be the only one to carry the Flegel name into the next generation. It seemed fitting that he arrived as Grandpa was leaving. Pastor Dave during the funeral message on Thursday mentioned that maybe Grandpa got to hold Brock while they were passing between worlds and Grandpa gave him some words of wisdom. It was a powerful image to hold during the funeral...even if I'm not so certain of the theology that goes along with it.
After the funeral on Thursday, we went back to Grandpa and Grandma's. The kids played. The adults talked. Pizza was eaten. It was fun, but strange. An era has ended. Our matriarch and patriarch are gone. It leaves a leadership void. It feels a bit like we are at loose ends. How does this change our family? Will we stay close? That empty space that Grandpa and Grandma filled leaves so many questions.
I think it was harder for me to say goodbye to Grandpa. Grandma was sick and failing for so long. We had time to say goodbye. We had time to prepare for the inevitable. I was happy for her to find her eternal home and leave her frail body behind. Grandpa on the other hand went quickly. He was at Easter dinner. He had a cold but he was there...cognizant and coherent. A couple weeks later and he was gone...and with his passing, a huge hole was left in the family. Our rallying center...our focal point...gone in the blink of an eye. That was a hard goodbye for me. Life is changing and I hate change with a passion.
However, we will do our best to continue the legacy and continue on in this new uncharted era that is upon us.
No comments:
Post a Comment