Chapter 3: The Beautiful Things We Miss

I know, I know. Your feed is already starting to flood with gushy, cheesy Fathers Day posts. They sure are cute, and honestly sometimes it's fun to see people's dads. I think we can all agree, however, that these posts do tend to get a little redundant, especially when they come all at once.

I'd like to take a moment and say something a little different about a father.

You see, I had this grandpa. He could always (and I mean always) make you smile, and his kindness was unmatched. He served and served and served. He never, ever judged anyone for anything.

My favorite quote from my grandpa: "You never run out of hugs because you always get one back."

9 days before I came home from serving in Georgia/South Carolina for 18 months, I got the news that he had passed away. I had known a few months in advance that my grandpa had been diagnosed with colon cancer and was quickly declining.

I was disappointed that I wasn't able to see him again before he passed, but it did give me a chance to reflect on the time I spent with him. I wondered whether I had appreciated and reciprocated his unconditional love as much as he deserved; if I had served him as much as he served me; if I had reflected and honored the life lessons he taught me with my own actions.

The song "The Beautiful Things We Miss" by Matthew West came to mind as I was thinking about this again recently.

"They were right when they said don't blink
It all goes faster than you think
Lord, help me remember, help me remember
The beautiful things we miss"

Shortly before leaving on my mission, he and his wife came to visit and help my mom, who still had six kids at home plus a guest living with us while she was trying to help me get ready for my mission. On their way out the door, my mom thought to snap a picture of the three of us before I left for those 18 months. I've never really liked being in pictures, but I conceded.

A few months after getting home from my mission, I started working for my dad at his office, and I noticed a picture of my grandpa sitting on the shelf above his desk--that very picture, in fact, except it was cropped to just include my grandpa's face. It was on a program of sorts. When I picked it up I realized it was the program for his funeral that I wasn't able to attend.

When I looked closer at the program, wondering why they had chosen this quick snap of a picture to be on the very front, I noticed how genuine his smile was. It was taken in the moment, when he was himself. He had just finished a good day's work serving my mom and her family, had been joking and laughing with us all the while, and, last of all, had given each of us a hug.

Wanna know what I learned right then? There were two things. One of them was--that's right--the same thing everyone else says around holidays like this: "Appreciate them while they're here."

But I also learned something else: while it's important to enjoy and appreciate the moment, it's equally as important to remember moments. The moment right before my grandpa walked out the door that day will always be with me as a reminder of how he served my family cheerfully and lovingly and how he smiled and encouraged us.

And I'll remember how he gave us those hugs, which he sure got right back.

Amory