My Grandpa, My Hero

JOSHUA GRACE
June 3, 1926 - February 16, 2011

That whistling. I could hear it from several blocks away, and I knew that Grandpa was coming. I loved when he would stop by the house, even if it was only for a few minutes. He wasn't one to sit still for long, unless he was watching Wheel of Fortune or a sporting event. So it was often a quick drop-in to see how we were doing, then he was off on his merry way to finish his daily walk. Grandma could have stayed longer, but once Grandpa was out the door, she was often having to chase him down to catch up. Always my biggest hero, my Grandpa knew EVERYONE in town. Seriously. The minute I would tell someone my name, their first question was "Are you related to Josh Grace?" and I was always proud to say "Yep. He's my Grampa!" The thought of disappointing him or having him be ashamed of me in any way often kept me out of trouble, but the best thing about him, was that I don't think he could have EVER been ashamed of or disappointed in any of us. He loved us no matter what, and it was obvious. He taught us how to blow kisses, and often those kisses swirled through the air before landing "right in the eye!" Some of my fondest memories of my Grandpa were just everyday things.  I loved watching him doing wood working projects. He made shelves, rocking horses, and all kinds of other beautiful things, and the smell of sawdust takes me right back into his shed in the back yard. He always had the most beautiful yard, and I loved watching him care for his lovely flowers. I also loved when he would take us on motorcycle rides, or on some kind of fun hike, or even just a walk around the block. He taught us that the girl should always be on the inside, away from the road, and the boy should be closest to the road. That was the proper way for a boy to walk with a girl! He always had a smile on his face, and a spring in his step, and people just wanted and loved to be around him. His hugs were the best - nice and tight. I remember he always seemed larger than life, so it was difficult to watch him over the last several years as he seemed to become smaller and more weak. Never one to complain, he tried to make you think he was just fine, even when he didn't feel real well. He loved and helped more people in his lifetime than I'll ever even know in mine. His and my grandmother's examples of service have affected my life in many ways, and when they served a mission together in Texas, I knew that someday I wanted to serve a mission with my husband. I look forward to that day. My grandpa taught me many things during his wonderful, long life.

He taught me about LOVE: I loved seeing him walk hand in hand with his "Sweetheart," my grandma. He loved her so much, and just beamed whenever he talked about her. He was willing to do anything for anyone, especially those of us who were "his." I remember many times when I was babysitting, when someone would knock at our door. Being frightened, I would call Grandpa, and he would drive the 4 blocks to our house to make sure we were okay. He came to many of the games I cheered at, and to most of my piano recitals.

He taught me about FAITH: My Grandpa loved the Lord and His gospel. He served as a Bishop twice, and as a part of the Stake Presidency. He had an amazing testimony, and always talked about how we should live our lives. His prayers were always some of my favorites. I loved living in his ward as a young newlywed, and being able to sit with him and my Grandma in Sacrament Meeting. We only lived 3 houses away, and we went to their house often.

He taught me about SERVICE: I saw him help many people. I heard of him helping even more. He was always doing something nice for someone else, and we were no exception. He built a beautiful wooden ledge in our house when we bought it, to cover up an eyesore right next to the stairs. I didn't ask him to do it. It was totally his idea, and I will always treasure the beauty he added to my home. And a gorgeous shelf he made hangs in our living room still.

He taught me about FORGIVENESS: Grandpa never held a grudge toward anyone. He loved everyone no matter what they had done in their lives. He had a Christ-like love that has touched my life so much. Even when I wrote on their beautiful dining room wallpaper in permanent ink in my childhood, he let me know that he still loved me, even though I had done something wrong.

He taught me about COUNTRY: He loved this country, and I remember watching him stand proudly at each Steel Days parade as the flags were marched down the street. The flag proudly flying in his yard meant something to him. Not just a pretty flag, but the flag he was willing to fight for. My grandpa taught me how to fold that flag in the proper way. He was a World War II veteran, having served in the Navy as a young man. I have a picture of him in his naval uniform framed and sitting in my family room. A great reminder that  brave men and women are so willing to risk their lives for me. And even cooler that my Grandfathers were some of them.

He taught me many other things, big and small. But most of all, he taught me about true HAPPINESS. I rarely saw him unhappy. Probably the ONLY time I saw him sad, was when his sweetheart passed away. That was so hard for him, but he found happiness again. I now know why he was happy. He knew who he was. He knew why he was here. And he knew that he was on the right path home. All his life he made choices and lived his life in such a way that I'm sure the Lord has welcomed him home with his arms wide open, saying "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." And oh, how I would have loved to witness the reunion that was held when he saw his "Sweetheart" there waiting for him. I smile just thinking about it. When I went to see him in the hospital right before he passed away, I imagined myself as a child again. I wanted to climb up on his lap and feel his big arms squeezing me tight. I wanted to hear him whistling, and his voice saying "How ya doin'?" I wanted to be on the back of his motorcycle, with him reminding me to keep my leg from getting burned on the pipe. I wanted to be sitting in the swing in his backyard right next to him, swinging in the cool, evening air. I wanted him to be able to just stand up and walk out of that hospital room. I know how I'll remember him, though, as the grandpa from my childhood. Tall, and strong. Hair shiny and combed so slick and stylishly. A gleam in his eye, and whistling an old time dance tune.

I love you Grandpa Grace. I will miss you more than you can ever know. I only hope that I can live my life in a way that will make you proud, and that will allow me to hear you whistle again.