Hi, I'm George.

"Well, would you look at that, Emojean! George got an A+." I felt a little pride well up inside me. Grandpa had administered a perfect grade because I had thoroughly cleaned my plate that night. Good thing Grandma made something I liked! One time I earned an F- - that was for throwing away a portion of my dinner, but Grandpa found it, made me dig it out of the trash can, and eat it. What a lesson that taught me! I pretty much got A’s from then on out.

Fast forward 15 years.

Today, on Valentine’s Day 2011, Emojean, my lovely Grandma Brown, lost her Valentine. Grandpa passed away to be with his Lord. We wept as we watched the monitor screen exhibit a straight line where the steady pulse of a heartbeat had been. We wondered how it could be that today was the day. Grandma said to me, "It doesn't seem real. I thought this day would never come."

Shuffle.

Grandpa met and married Grandma when they were young. Here's a picture of them in passionate love:

Little did they know that they would be blessed with 68 years of marriage, six beautiful children, 27 grandchildren, and 18 great-grandchildren.

Shuffle.

Christmas, 1997. The family is gathered together - all 27 Georges, all six of the original “Brown kids," and Grandpa and Grandma. I remember watching Grandpa look around at the craziness. In his hands, he held a plate of food – which likely had some of Grandma's fruit jello on it next to the turkey. He turned to his graceful wife and said, "Emojean, look at this mess we made!" Grandma chuckled and turned to greet another George.

Shuffle.

River Terrace, 2009. Grandpa wanted to go back to the farm. He wasn't content in his new home. He wanted back the life he had built for himself, his wife, and his family. He wanted to mow the yard, and spray the apple trees, and shoot some bothersome birds, and tend his garden. He wanted to feed the cats and let the cows in, and check his fields, and cut some wood. He didn't like how new everything was. He didn't like how clean his hands were and how he had to struggle to hear people speak. He didn't like the new routine. He wanted back the old way of life he was accustomed to, the way he had chosen. He wanted it all back, and with his very strong will he fought against the idea, the reality, that he wouldn't get any of it back. We watched with sadness, but knew this was best for them both.

One day, mom went to visit her parents and brought some of us grandkids along. Maria was there, and while we visited she held Grandpa’s hand. I marveled at how content he suddenly seemed. He literally held her hand for hours and talked with her. Sometimes they just sat in silence. Sometimes he would tell stories of his time in the service and cry. Sometimes they would look at pictures. Grandpa and Maria had a bond that was very sweet. Maria's personality seemed to perk Grandpa up and when she held his hand, he was OK.

Fast forward two years.

I held Grandpa's hand in the hospital and watched him struggling for each breath. I talked really loudly so he could hear me. I told him of the memories I had of visiting them on the farm, of my appreciation for his love for and faithfulness to Grandma all these years, and I told him some other things that are between me and him. When everyone else came back in the room, I mentioned how much it would have meant to Grandpa to have Maria there to hold his hand. I bet he missed that. I'm glad I got the privilege of holding his hand and talking to him, but Maria had that mysterious way with him.

Through my tears, a little bit of truth, and with humor in my heart, I said, "Grandpa never let ME hold his hand as long as he would let Maria hold it." Everyone had a good laugh. Grandpa was... "sassy". He was strong-willed up to his very last moment on earth. He was kind, usually. He could often be found scolding George (whichever one was around) for leaving the light on or not cleaning the plate. But he was always ready to teach his Georges the correct way of doing things until we learned. He was a good teacher, a hard worker, and he had a very humorous side and, at times, a very tender side. We believe he knew Jesus as his Savior and Lord and we have such great joy and peace that he is no longer suffering in his failing body.

We have so many memories of Grandpa Brown that will treasure for a long, long time. We'll have many more conversations about who he was, the things he did, and how much we loved and respected him. Although he is no longer with us on the earth, the influence he had in so many of our lives will not die. Grandpa left a legacy of determination, strength, and love. He left behind a group of people, his own descendants, who will miss him greatly.

As the years roll by, I know I will do a lot more rewinding, shuffling, and fast forwarding through Grandpa's life. If I’m as blessed as he was to live as long as he did, I’ll tell my children and grandchildren everything I know about him. Grandpa lived 89 years, but somehow that time passed as quickly as he would swat a fly. Grandma was right. It does seem surreal; we never thought this day would come.

Fast forward to my future.

"Hi, I'm George."

"No you're not! You're MOM!"

"Yes, I am. Grandpa Brown called me George."

"Who's Grandpa Brown?"

Rewind.

We love you Grandpa, and we miss you already!