This week feels hard: It’s been 10 years since my Grandpa Jim went to heaven, 10 years since I last spoke with him here on earth. He was my best buddy and my advocate, my stability in what otherwise felt chaotic. He was loyal and strong, funny and kind. I always knew I was safe near him, and he was always a phone call and seven-minute-drive away.
He drove me to and picked me up from private school, golf practice, swim practice, and soccer practice, and gave me snack money that always looked ironed. And, oh, how he was patient. He would patiently wait in his car as long as it took for me to chat it up and say my goodbyes to all my friends. And he was always happy to see me, even if he’d been sitting in his car waiting for an hour. Patience described him. He was slow and steady but strong and athletic.
He always made himself available and patiently sat by to support me however I needed it: He came over to help me clean my room or change my oil. He tutored me in math from Cs to A+s. He was an amazing golfer and coached me, no matter my lack of progress.
He and my grandma were a precious and hilarious duo. He was the calm to her spunk. He told slightly off-colored jokes to get a rise out of her, and she never disappointed with her high-pitched, “Jim!” His jack-o-lantern smile at her response was glorious. He pushed her buttons in ways that entertained them both and all of us.
I admired their love and loyalty greatly. They had a partnership revolving around “mutual respect,” as my grandma would describe it, and matchless love.
They supported their daughters and grandkids with an intuitive and exciting love. Something was always planned and everything was a celebration. They didn’t think twice letting me live with them for a couple years when my dad’s job moved him to Milwaukee. And I had a blast watching my grandpa sneak Hershey bars out of the pantry out to the garage when my grandma wasn’t looking.
My grandpa was deeply compassionate. I had a tough go of it, especially in 5th through 7th grades, with issues at home and a back brace that attracted negative attention wherever I went. He always stood up for me against bullying, even against taunting siblings and cousins.
He told me he ate coffee ground sandwiches as a kid and lived in the back of a post office when his dad died, leaving his mom with four growing boys. He stood in the relief line waiting for bread while school kids mocked him. His empathy meant he always found the unlikely friend in a crowd. He would sit down beside them, no matter the economics or ethnicity. He was the common man and wanted everyone to feel seen and peaceful.
Though he grew up poor, he went on to serve in the navy, play football as a Razorback, and with the Detroit Lions practice squad. He became a respected engineer, building the largest furnace in that time. He was a devoted church elder and engaged member of their community.
He gave us all a good life, but he always said, “Don’t love something that can’t love you back.” He taught me so many short, memorable phrases about honoring God, people, and yourself, and lots of hilarious jokes. He wanted me to remember how much he loved me.
I got him for 30 years. The last thing he said to me before he went on to heaven was, “I love you more than your husband,” and chuckled. He just wanted to make sure he always held a piece of my heart when he moved on so I remembered I was always loved and never alone. I married someone just like him and have a marriage similar to my grandparents. Oh, how blessed I am for my Grandpa Jim.
I miss you, Pops. I’ll see you forever one day. Love, “Sissy”
On being reunited with loved ones…
“Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-17).
Sarah Guldalian 