Jen's Crash Course on Finding Joy in Sorrow

“God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.” ~ Anonymous

Seven days ago, the world lost a great man. There is nothing I could say about him that would do justice to his amazing capacity to love and to teach, but I will do my best on this page.

My grandfather taught me to be proud, but never boastful. He taught me to love the people in my life fiercely, and not to hold grudges. All of these things would be more than a lot of people pass along to their loved ones, but he gave me so much more. He taught me to take chances, to always be exactly who I am, to be careful with my words and to always strive to make a better life for myself and my loved ones. He wasn’t a religious man, but deeply spiritual, and because of an experience he shared with us, I know that there is a God in Heaven. I will, to the best of my ability, share how he taught me these lessons, and I hope that each of you will be able to take a small piece of my beloved grandfather along with you in your lives.

My grandfather always shared his pride in his wife, children and grandchildren. He would be the first to tell you that he married the prettiest and smartest girl in the state of Alabama, that my aunt was valedictorian of her high school class, that my mother was his favorite fishing buddy, that his grandchildren all learned important trades, and that he was PROUD of each and every one of us. When he said, “I’m sure proud of you,” that was his way of saying “I love you.” As proud as he was of each of us, and he was happy to tell anyone of our accomplishments, he never told any of us how he received Presidential honors in the Bronze and Silver Stars in World War II and the Korean Wars. He never boasted his own accomplishments. He taught me there is far more satisfaction in having pride in the ones you loves than in bragging about yourself and what you do well.

He, unwittingly, taught me to not hold grudges. My grandfather and one of his brothers had a falling out many, many years ago, and never really reconciled. Because of this, I’ve learned the importance of saying, “I’m sorry” and “I was wrong” before it’s too late to let someone know how you feel about them and how important they’ve been to you in your own life, and to love them fiercely. I know my family, and especially my friends, may think I say “I love you” too often, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to say those words enough.

Everyone knows that my grandparents took Paul and me on our first Disney World trip. Paul wanted desperately to ride Space Mountain, an adventure not necessarily shared by my grandparents or me. But my grandfather taught us all to face your fears and take chances, and we all rode that roller coaster. Because of him, I’ve been able to face just about everything life has thrown at me, and I’ve been able to take chances and do some of the things I’ve always been terrified of doing. That will be something I will carry with me until the end of my days.

I spent a lot of my younger years a very lost young lady. Almost two and a half years ago, my grandfather had what most would call a “near death experience”. He was fighting cancer and side effects from his treatments. The doctors held little faith that he would survive the night and told my mother and aunt to get the family together. At the time, I was unable to make the trip because I’d just had hip surgery a few days prior. My grandfather would later tell us all that he was at the Pearly Gates, that they were far more beautiful than anyone has ever described, and that they closed in front of him. He was sent back because it wasn’t yet his time, and he was irritated that he was made to walk alone, all the way back to us. For years, I’d held some belief that there is indeed a greater being, but never really believed in God or Heaven. My grandfather changed that for me, and I am forever grateful.

Robert Thomas Shirah passed away on Friday, November 4, 2011. At the time, I was terrified that I wouldn’t make it to his side in time to tell him goodbye, or to thank him for everything he passed on to me. I was afraid that he wouldn’t know how much I loved him before he left this earth. I was afraid that his experience with heaven was just a dream that he had while in a hospital bed in ICU. Thankfully, I was horribly wrong about all of my fears. I was blessed with the opportunity to spend two precious hours with him before he let this world go, to hold his hand, to whisper my love and my thanks for him and to witness his peaceful and merciful passing. Because I was able to see him draw his last breath, I know in my heart that he did go on to a life, and body, that is better than what he was offered here on earth. I grieve for this world’s loss of this great man, but have joy that his soul is no longer bound to it and that he is surrounded by loved ones, his parents and siblings, friends and great-grandchildren to love and hold. I will live my life as he taught me to live it, but will look forward to the day when I will see him again.