01 November, 2010

Catching Up 3.2


So for our next post: the funeral

Well after some much needed rest the night before we got our kids all gussied up (is that how you spell it?) and holy cow, they were cute! I know, I'm biased, but they looked classy! We drove to the National Cemetery - never been to one besides Arlington - and made it before anyone else in my immediate family. One of the only people to beat us there was Grampa's little brother, Roy and a few others who had driven from the coast just to be there. Grampa would've loved all the support.

I think what I liked best about waiting in that line of cars, was that I knew every face and enjoyed warm hugs from every car. Thank you Grampa for inviting my family to all the reunions and showing me how important they are. It was almost perfect: you just weren't there to make funny comments and Grama wasn't there to say "Jim!" with protestation. Your spirit was felt quite strongly though, don't think anyone could've missed that.

After we were all there, they escorted us to the "shelter" on the hill. It was small, but clean and nice glass and stone enclosure. Thank goodness, it was quite windy that day and though sunny, very chilly. We all sat down and were greeted by Grama and Grampa's smiling faces from some beautiful framed collages mom and dad had made for both her parents long before this. I had never seen them, so I really liked looking at the collections of pictures and awards. Grama was beautiful and Grampa was totally cute! I know, but geez, put that man in uniform and who wouldn't want to date him? Grama didn't have a chance. That's how he felt about Grama in her red dress and I have to be honest, it was her color. They were great together.

Anyway, so the program started and I know it's not the right order, but we listened to the gun salute (Lizzy didn't cry, whew!) and the bagpipes play "Amazing Grace" and I was solemn, but fine. That is until they played Taps and I saw my big little brother crying underneath his dark shades. Then I couldn't help but cry too. Some men!!! I loved when they handed mom the crisp colored flags and expressed their gratitude for her parents' service to our country. It was such a nice recognition of all they had done all their lives. They stopped working for the military, but they never stopped living the military. It was who they were and such a support for the men in our lives, my husband, Beckie's husband, my husband's family (also previous military). They had a profound effect on all of us.

After the ceremony we watched as they put them both into the wall, side-by-side, as they always were. Grama ornate and lovely, Grampa simple and strong. That's when I noticed that my oldest nephew couldn't stop the tears and then I got all teary again. Some men!!!! They sure make it hard on us weepy women.

We followed everyone then to the memorial service at the funeral home. The program was simple and nice, but the part I loved was the video mom had done. Oh, how wonderful it was. Every picture of my grandparents they were looking at each other like the whole world had no idea how wonderful their marriage was. They were so in love, before kids, during kids, after kids, during military, after military, during sickness and death, and afterward. A love like that is not seen in real life very often anymore, but having been the recipient of a love like that (and I hope for it to continue in such a way) I can tell you, it's real and it happens! The pictures included their grand kids, great-grand kids, nieces, nephews, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and almost anyone under the sun who fell within the radius of the Nix's all giving love and devotion. I loved it.

Not many got the opportunity to express how they felt about them due to a miscommunication, but I wanted to tell you how I felt, if you can't tell already. Grampa was the kind of guy that was at first, intimidating and a bit scary. Come on, I was a little girl! He always pushed for more effort and better work than I thought I could give. There was a time when I just really didn't like him, but as I got older I saw how much he cared. He pushed because he knew I could do it, he asked for a lot because he knew I had more to give, and I didn't like him because he chose to love me and be an example instead of my friend. It's what real love is like. As I got older I realized the only thing I really wanted from him was his approval on something important. Some choice, some action, some award, something that made him aware that I had listened to his lessons. I never felt like I had gotten it until he met my choice in husband.

He met Chris long before we were married. He and Grama hosted us in Texas for a few weeks when we were in high school. Then he saw him again after Chris' mission and again a while later after we were married. Then one day he pulled me aside after Chris and I had experienced some setbacks in the job world and were discussing what to do next. He looked me right in the eye and then looked at my sweet husband sitting across the room chatting with Grama. Then he turned back and said, "he's a good one Tamy." That's it. My heart danced. I knew he liked who I had chosen because he saw in my husband the kind of man that he had always tried hard to be. A man of integrity and honor. A man of sacrifice and love. A man willing to do whatever was needed for good. And a man who loved his family and God above all else. Not saying Chris is perfect or that Grampa was, just that both men have/had the potential to be all that and more. He never said another word about Chris like that, but I caught him watching how we were together a lot and I saw him smile at Chris' jokes or share things with my husband he'd not shared with anyone else I knew. He respected my husband and I always felt he respected me because he knew I knew a good one when I saw it.

I loved my grandfather so much. He was a kind and gentle man. He was the kind of man I want my son(s) to be and my daughters to marry. He's the kind of man who loved deeply, worked hard, sacrificed much, and best of all, laughed loud and hard. Even up to the very end he laughed, mostly at our kids, but you couldn't help laugh too when you heard it or saw it.

Later, we all met at the church for a small dinner, some great family pix I hope I get soon, and conversation. It was a good day. I cried, I laughed, I missed, I loved, and boy, did I hug!

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