June 20, 2011
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Grandpa Wynalda.
Yesterday on Father’s day – dad, Lydia, and I canoed to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, then sat for some time talking to Grandma and Grandpa. In our reminiscing different things. We stopped and realized that a year ago (on Father’s day) was the day we brought Grandpa into the hospital for his seizures. This is a man who has had numerous different cancers in his life and if all went as they were told by doctors 20-some years ago, I probably would never have met this man I’ve come to love and respect. He as been told on quite a few occasions in his life that he only has a certain amount of time to live. Each time, he passes that day by years. This time, at least for now, he passed it by a year.
Last year at (around) this time, we were preparing for my cousin’s wedding. My cousins from Texas were up, which is rare. The night before the wedding, we had Grandma and Grandpa over and our out of town cousins (the only cousins that don’t live within 5 miles of all of us) – everything was just as it should be. It was a great night of family and just being together. Out of the blue, Saturday morning-ish I get a call asking if I can film the wedding because Grandpa was feeling sick and he and grandma wouldn’t make it to the wedding. We didn’t think much about it at that time, it wasn’t anything incredibly severe – if it was, we wouldn’t have all attended the wedding and left Grandma and Grandpa home alone. Things progressively got worse through the day – which none of us really knew but the day after, Father’s day we rushed him to the hospital. He was having seizures, severe seizures within minutes of each other. The doctors once again pretty much told us to arrange the funeral. Anytime I went up to visit and anyone for that matter, if Grandpa was in speaking condition he would say things like digging me hole yet? or you’ve come to see my last hour? Things none of us found funny but was very much grandpa things to say. Through our tears we were able to crack a smile and know because of those comments, he was still the grandpa we knew and loved.
I remember doing a pretty good job at not crying when in the room with him the first couple times. My aunt took the above photo and although I wasn’t crying, it’s obvious I was fighting tears. We all tried to keep tears away from him as even he wasn’t fully aware of everything going on. Anytime I went up, it was obvious that tears were flowing. It wasn’t until a moment when I was leaving the hospital that mom was talking to me (and Lisa). Going on about how blessed I am with such a wonderful and loving grandpa and how these are most likely our last moments with him. I lost it. I was not happy with her and that little talk but I know as much as it was for me, she was reassuring herself as well.
All logistics aside on how they pretty much screwed him over and gave zero hope to him, we being the Wynalda family looked at other options. We found them with God’s hand involved at every moment. Even in the doctors screw ups here in Michigan, it was because of those that led us elsewhere – to the best.
Grandpa is a sweet man. He isn’t a man of many words but that’s what makes what he does say all the more special. Which is why, when he brags about me – in highschool about my basketball abilities and now a days my filming, it’s special to me. I love the way we will all be having a conversation and he pipes in with something that has absolutely nothing to do with the conversation we’re having. I know this indicates that he’s getting older but I still love it. He is a man that loves his grandkids and invests in them.
My other grandpa, I’m lucky if he remembers my name, nor do I even care if he does. He doesn’t believe us to be Christians and treats as unbelievers. He doesn’t know us. He treats my grandma like dirt and always has since I’ve known him.
It makes me appreciate my Grandpa Wynalda all the more. He hasn’t always been like this – my mom grew up with a different father and a different mother, than the people that I know as grandparents today. Thankfully God continued to work on them and use them despite things in there past.
Growing up I was a tom boy and I’m thankful I was…it got me fishing time on the boat with grandpa. I love the way he takes us grandkids golfing and is always showing us ways to improve. I love the genuine and ridiculous way him and grandma argue about the stupidest things. How he tells her he’ll turn her seat around (in the car) so she stops making comments about his driving. He always reaches for her hand whenever someone is praying – it’s little but it’s not only cute and symbolizes there “one-ness” quite well. When I think of elderly married couples, I think that’s the couple I want to be like when I’m old and married. He genuinely loves and cares for his wife, his kids, and his many, many grandkids and it’s incredibly evident in the way he lives his life.I’m so thankful that I’ve had the opportunity to be blessed my him and thankful that He is the Great Physician who has kept him plugging along all this time.
