9
Christmas dawned cold yet with sunshine. Griffey, Elianna, and I shared a small breakfast. Then we opened gifts we had gotten for one another. Everyone else was due at one o’clock, so Griffey had to leave at eleven to pick up his dad at the nursing home.
By one o’clock the house was buzzing. Emily’s family and Halina and her husband were as much family as Griffey’s father, Mitchell. Today we were thankful that Mitchell was having a good day. He remembered us all, which didn’t happen often.
“Dad, would you pray for us?” Griffey said.
The former pastor nodded and bowed his head.
“Lord, You bless us beyond what we deserve. We know in our disobedience we often miss out on Your blessings.”
I looked up and his eyes opened and met mine for a split second. He continued.
“Help us in our weakness. Bless this house and all those gathered here today. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
Sniffs resounded around the room. No one moved or spoke for a moment. I gestured to the food spread across the kitchen counter, holding up the stack of foam plates.
“OK, everyone, line starts here and sit … wherever you like,” I said.
A line formed and a low roar ensued from the various discussions. I stepped back and let my eyes wonder across the room looking at each person. Each one had blessed my life, and I silently thanked God for them. Lastly, my eyes rested on Mitchell sitting in his wheelchair. Through Mitchell, God had blessed me with Griffey. My father-in-law’s life was still a testimony, and even though many times he couldn’t remember our names, people remembered his.
I saw him standing haloed in a bright light. He walked toward a silhouetted figure. When he drew near, I realized the figure was Della, Griffey’s mom and Mitchell’s wife, who’d died five years ago. The two embraced and then walked arm in arm engulfed by the brilliance until they disappeared.
I snapped back to the present, disturbed by the thought of the blessing my vision suggested. Could it be that his life of obedience was soon to be ultimately rewarded?
The day was so enjoyable especially when Mitchell told funny stories about Griffey’s childhood. It warmed me to hear Mitchell and Griffey’s laughter ringing throughout the house. Mitchell’s rush of memory was the best gift of the day. He was still chattering when Griffey put him in the car headed back to the nursing home.
When Griffey returned, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about my vision. I wasn’t completely sure of its meaning, so I just kept it to myself.
I think Griffey was snoring before his head hit the pillow. I fell asleep quickly myself until I was awakened by the phone ringing. Griffey jumped to his feet and sprinted to the next room. I heard him say hello. I glanced at the lighted alarm clock. It was two o’clock. As I sat up and switched on the lamp on my bedside table, a slight surge of panic ran through my body. No one called at two in the morning with good news. Even though we receive these calls sometimes, I’d never become accustomed to them.
I heard the phone being set back on its base. Griffey came around the corner. I immediately noticed the tears streaming down his face.
“Dad died in his sleep.”
I covered my opened mouth with my hand. I knew my vision meant Mitchell was going to Heaven, but I didn’t think it would happen this soon. Griffey sat and reached for me. We clung to each other and rocked gently. Finally I spoke softly.
“I had a vision today.”
He pulled back and looked at me expectantly.
“I saw him reunited with your mom.”
Griffey’s mouth hinted at a smile.
“That would be a blessing, wouldn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Get the light,” Griffey said.
I turned off the lamp. We lay down, and he pulled me close. At some point we drifted off.
****
Mitchell’s funeral would be Monday evening. I prayed in earnest for Griffey during the worship services on Sunday. I didn’t know how he could preach so boldly with the grief I knew he was experiencing. Sunday evening at midnight, I was nodding off as I sat in my recliner watching a local news update.
“Hon, go on to bed,” Griffey said.
“Are you coming?” I sat up and stretched.
“I’m still working on the service for tomorrow. How do I do justice to a man like my dad?”
“I don’t know, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.” I stood and put my hand on the side of his face and he in return pulled me into a hug.
“Thanks,” he said with his head close to mine.
“I love you.”
“Love you.”
****
The next day, a light snow fell outside as I sat on the front row of the funeral home chapel. Griffey stood on the platform and walked to the small podium. I breathed a prayer for him. It had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
“Today, I stand here with mixed feelings. On the one hand I am honored to speak about this man—Mitchell Townsend. On the other hand, how do I do justice to such a wonderful father? I had a great Christmas day with him, but now he’s home with Mom. I wouldn’t think of depriving him of that. I do realize that I can’t preach his funeral, for he already did that with his God-honoring life. But, he would expect me to tell you how you can go where I know he is now.
“I learned to give the plan of salvation from his sermons. It is God’s desire that we all go to heaven, so He made a way. We are sinners, which means, we are not worthy to go to heaven, for God can’t look on sin. But He loves us and wants us with Him so He sent His own Son, Jesus. He died on a cross for our sins. Now if we will admit that we are sinners and believe that Jesus is God’s Son who died for our sins then we can be saved. Through Jesus, we are worthy of heaven.”
There were a couple of songs and a few more remarks, then the service ended. I exhaled, relieved for Griffey to have that behind him.