Granpa, I wasn't ready for you to leave. None of us were. I mean, we know you were 83 but we all thought we had more memories to make with you.
When my Dad called, we were camping. I thought I'd be all right. That I'd grieve you in a nice and tidy package. You were not outwardly demonstrative of affection, I know I've heard you talk more about politics and the stock market than I have of poignant reminisces of family and friends.
But I find myself breaking down in sobs again and again. It may have been that you were supposed to be at your house two weekends later for my family to visit, for my children to get to know you better. It may have been that I still had your present that I was afraid to mail, long overdue.
It hurts to have you gone. Because although you weren't a huggy-kissy person you were strong and steady, a presence to depend on. Maybe that's what keeps surprising me with the sorrow - that after 30 years you won't be there anymore.
I remember coming to your house for every Christmas. I remember Easters. I remember if there was a month we didn't travel west to your house you traveled east to ours. I remember your heart attacks, but I was too young to understand why all the grown-ups were SO worried. I remember walking with you - to the McDonald's in Canonsburg, at flea markets, to Wood's Creek - you loved the fact that they still had the old-fashioned playground equipment.
I remember after Grandma died.... time stood still in your house. I can't fathom how much that hurt. You couldn't, didn't move anything that Grandma had touched for such a long time, you wanted to keep her close to you. I was glad to hear that you found a new woman for your life after all those years alone, but I didn't want to meet her at your funeral. I wanted you to introduce her to me. I also know that although you didn't have the friendliest of relations with your mother-in-law that you were there visiting her in the nursing home all the time.
I remember how much you adored holding Adam and Joshua and that I saw it again with Jesse. I am glad you saw 5 of your great-grandchildren. (Although I bet they don't look anything like you may have imagined decades ago). It still hurts that cancer took that privilege away from Grandma.
You supported my college attendance by driving me there and picking me up many times over 3 and a half years. Thank you so much. I don't think I said it then and you can't hear me now.
Well... I know on those trips to college that you weren't saved. I wanted you to be in heaven, but I didn't know how to talk to you about it. I'm glad the book of John I gave you was there, in the kitchen - your "office" for the last 17 years or so. When Grandpa Boughter came to the viewing and told me he knew you were in Heaven, it was such a comfort. I desperately want to see you again and I was so scared that I wouldn't.
Granpa - you were a great man. I had questions I wanted to ask you, memories of your mother and father, of courting Grandma, of waiting years for your children - whether it was intentional or if you dealt with infertility like we have. And more, so much more. My father, who takes after you... was ready to reminisce. He told stories that week of your funeral, which I am thankful for.
David Sprowls Johnston
born April 15, 1925 Johnston farm, Canonsburg, PA
farmer, welder, Merchant Marine, husband, father, World War II Vet, grandfather, uncle and more
You left October 5, 2008 Washington hospital
We miss you very much.
