In the last two years I lost the only three grandparents I ever knew. With the anniversary of their passings coming up, I've been thinking about them a lot and am so thankful for their lasting testimonies.
My Papa Edwards was a tough man on the outside. He fought a losing battle with his weight and because of this he couldn't quite find the happiness he had had in his youth. Nevertheless, every time I was over at his house he'd have his Bible on the end table by his chair. He read that thing cover to cover and back again. What discipline, and oh how I wish I had it as well!
My Memaw Edwards was the sweetest lady you could ever meet. She always had something nice to say about everyone, and her gift was words of encouragement. She loved to send cards in envelopes that she had decorated with stickers. These weren't just your obligatory birthday cards, instead she sent cards to let you know she was thinking of you and praying for you. Whenever I was having a rough time, I knew without a doubt that my grandmother was praying for me, whether or not I asked for it.
My Papa Waddill was a funny old man. He loved to laugh and make people laugh, and he loved his "lady friends." His death was unexpected, but we do know that in those last minutes, before his health took a sudden turn for the worst, he was kneeling down on his 86 year old knees to say his nighttime prayer. How reassuring is it to know that he went from talking to God to seeing His face shortly thereafter!
I miss my grandparents greatly. My heart aches that Maddie never had the chance to meet them here on Earth, but I know that one day many years from now I'll have the chance to introduce them to their beautiful, redheaded great-granddaughter. I can find comfort in that.
