Chapstick…

Tonight, I was helping Scott finish packing our bedroom, and I spotted a tube of Chapstick that must have fallen behind my night stand. Not a flavored stick, but the classic original kind. When I would spend a Saturday night at my Granny and Papaw’s house, I’d wake early Sunday morning to my Papaw’s biscuits and to the sound of my Granny singing, “It’s time for Sunday school.”

We’d (usually my cousin Ashley stayed with me) eat at the kitchen bar, and then we’d dress for church. As my papaw would grab his car keys, he’d also pick up his wallet, a pack of Wrigley’s Doublemint gum, and a tube of original Chapstick. I don’t know if he even realized that I saw this, and it is just one small precious memory I have of my childhood nights and mornings spent with my grandparents. I wonder tonight if Ashley saw this, too. I wonder if the other grands -Mer, Jamie, Blake, Sarah, Shea, Luke, and Hannah-hold this same sweet memory the way I do- close to the heart.

My amazing papaw is being put on hospice care, and I know that his earthly days are few. I was able to hold his hands and tell him how much I love him. I am grateful that he already knew this, and I was just reiterating what we have spoken a thousand times before. He is going to be with Jesus. He is going to be in the arms of His savior. He is going to leave his broken body, for a soul that is healed and perfected by God. And, while I know these truths in my head, my heart is aching for one more perfect Sunday morning with him. I am searching for God’s peace right now, and I am praying that I never forget the words to Froggy Went A Courtin,” or the way his hands looked patting out biscuits as he whistled, the sound of his voice, the touch of his embrace, and the light only his laughter could shine.

The saying that death is hardest for the living is so very true. Tonight, living hurts.

Grandkids back when and more recently