Saying Goodbye

Saying goodbye is always hard, but when it comes to the death of a much-beloved family member, it seems to be significantly harder. 

As Elder Uchtdorf so beautifully phrased it, "In light of what we know about our eternal destiny, is it any wonder that whenever we face the bitter endings of life, they seem unacceptable to us? There seems to be something inside of us that resists endings.

Why is this? Because we are made of the stuff of eternity. We are eternal beings, children of the Almighty God, whose name is Endless and who promises eternal blessings without number. Endings are not our destiny.

The more we learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ, the more we realize that endings here in mortality are not endings at all. They are merely interruptions—temporary pauses that one day will seem small compared to the eternal joy awaiting the faithful."

Two Sundays ago, Steve's Grandpa Busch (he's the one on the right in the picture below) passed away rather suddenly.  

 Thanks to the wonderful help of friends and family who watched our children for us all day Sunday and Monday, we were able to be there to say our last goodbyes, which was both difficult and peaceful--he's lived such a marvelous life and was such a good man, and although Steve and I will both miss him bitterly, we are grateful that his passing was what he would have wanted--it was peaceful, painless, and surrounded by his family.

His funeral was this last Friday, and it was just beautiful; simple, straightforward, and classic.  Have you ever attended a funeral where you hear people speak and you're not sure they're talking about the same person you knew because they're either leaving lots of details out or just plain making stuff up?

Grandpa's funeral, in my opinion, had the opposite problem--in fact, I don't know that there is enough they could have said about his incredible positive qualities.  

This man was a gentle, strong, kind person--I can't ever recall hearing him say something critical or unkind about anyone, and his faith and dedication to the gospel has always impressed me.  When I joined the family, he reached out and completely accepted and loved me as his own granddaughter, and when I spent my first holidays with the Buschs after my marriage (my own heart aching at the thought of spending my first holiday without both my Grandma Beecroft and my Grandpa Flake, who had passed that year), he was aware, kind, and compassionate.  In fact, I remember leaving his home after Thanksgiving dinner and thinking, "I'm so glad that I have grandpas to call my own again."

I used to ask him often about his and Grandma's conversion to the church, and there is one story that so perfectly illustrates his simple, strong faith that I want to share it here.

He said that when he and Grandma joined the church, they had never yet paid tithing.  They sat down a few days after their baptism and did their budget, and realized that there was just no way they could give a full 10% of their income and still pay the rest of their bills.

They went to their bishop and showed their budget to him, then asked him if there was any way they could start out just paying 5% or so and work their way up to the full 10%.

He answered, "No, you won't get any of the blessings unless you're paying the 10%," and then he went on to assure them that it would work out all right.

They went home and reworked their budget again and again, but it still showed that they would have to cut something essential if they paid the full 10%.

At this point in the story, Grandpa paused, and I breathlessly asked, "So what did you do?"

He smiled, then answered, "We paid the full 10%.  Somehow it all worked out, and we've paid a full tithing ever since.  Best decision we ever made."

I hope someday to leave a legacy of that kind of faith and courage to my posterity, but at the very least, I shall do my best to be sure that my children know just who their Great-Grandpa Busch was and what kind of a man he was.  

I feel so grateful to know that we can see him again someday.

Truth is such a blessing.