This past week, my family said goodbye to one of the best men I've ever known, Charles Edward DeLozier. I've been trying to find the right words, but they don't come. Last summer I wrote about both my grandfathers and how blessed I am to be part of the legacy of each of them, and those words are no less true now that both those men have stepped from this world to the next.
While there were tears at Papaw's, there was also something that might come as a bit of a surprise--laughter.
Lots of it.
It filled Papaw's house as old friends told stories and family dropped by to reminisce. It came from tales of stock car races, mowing escapades, and rescues from possums. It came from finding trays from t.v. dinners, bowls from frozen pot pies, and popsicle sticks--all neatly organized and saved just because you never know when you might need them (popsicle sticks make great splints for broken fingers, you know).
It was at the funeral home office when they were straightening out all the details and my uncle asked, "Is that your best offer?" because his dad always haggled for everything. It was at the funeral service when my dad said that maybe Papaw's comment of "That boy could tear up an anvil" was meant as a compliment when taken in light of Papaw rolling a dump truck, getting a mower stuck in a pond, and falling through a roof with the chainsaw still running. It was in my cousin's words in an essay read at the service, saying if you weren't doing something Papaw's way you weren't doing it right.
It was at the graveside when the family stood around talking for far too long, remembering good times and people gone on before us. It was in the thought of reunions taking place in heaven and the memory of "singings" held at houses long ago. It was filling the church building as people ate food prepared and brought by loving hands to serve as a comfort.
In the midst of tears, there was laughter for only one reason--because in the midst of our tears, there was God. Because of Him, there was peace in the knowledge that one day we will all be together once more, for eternity. There was comfort knowing that Papaw didn't have to struggle to breathe. There was joy knowing that he was reunited with his wife, brother, grandson, nieces, and a whole host of family who were all there to greet him, and I bet their laughter mingled with ours was a beautiful sound in Heaven.
While there were tears at Papaw's, there was also something that might come as a bit of a surprise--laughter.
Lots of it.
It filled Papaw's house as old friends told stories and family dropped by to reminisce. It came from tales of stock car races, mowing escapades, and rescues from possums. It came from finding trays from t.v. dinners, bowls from frozen pot pies, and popsicle sticks--all neatly organized and saved just because you never know when you might need them (popsicle sticks make great splints for broken fingers, you know).
It was at the funeral home office when they were straightening out all the details and my uncle asked, "Is that your best offer?" because his dad always haggled for everything. It was at the funeral service when my dad said that maybe Papaw's comment of "That boy could tear up an anvil" was meant as a compliment when taken in light of Papaw rolling a dump truck, getting a mower stuck in a pond, and falling through a roof with the chainsaw still running. It was in my cousin's words in an essay read at the service, saying if you weren't doing something Papaw's way you weren't doing it right.
It was at the graveside when the family stood around talking for far too long, remembering good times and people gone on before us. It was in the thought of reunions taking place in heaven and the memory of "singings" held at houses long ago. It was filling the church building as people ate food prepared and brought by loving hands to serve as a comfort.
In the midst of tears, there was laughter for only one reason--because in the midst of our tears, there was God. Because of Him, there was peace in the knowledge that one day we will all be together once more, for eternity. There was comfort knowing that Papaw didn't have to struggle to breathe. There was joy knowing that he was reunited with his wife, brother, grandson, nieces, and a whole host of family who were all there to greet him, and I bet their laughter mingled with ours was a beautiful sound in Heaven. 
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~Mandy