Eric Bailey's

This trip to Estavan was not as rushed as the one a couple weeks ago, but it was with a heavier heart. What I feared last trip had already happened this trip. I know that my Grandpa was ready to go, he often talked about how he was ready, but I wasn't really ready. I did not have any big plans to spend a lot of time with him, or to try to learn something specifically from him. It is just being in his presence. I like to just be, to just hang out around my family. To sit and listen to them talk, argue, debate, and especially to hear the stories that they tell. And Grandpa could tell stories. People talked about Grandpa reciting poetry, and I will miss that too.

The funeral was different from Grandma's but it was in a lot of ways similar. Tim Pippus officiated, Wendell Bailey led singing, Uncle Robert read the eulogy, Uncle Tom and I gave readings, and Angel Erikson gave a testimony of Grandpa's impact on her life. All the Grandchildren that where there sang in a couple of songs. The songs that we sang as a congregation we the same songs that Erica had sung with Grandpa and Auntie Mary a couple of weeks ago. Between that and the songs talking about faith that holds even in the stormyness of life and as life fades into eternity ... it was difficult to sing some of these simple songs. I was able to understand why one song really bothered me on Good Friday - it was one of the songs Grandpa had chosen for his funeral - My Jesus I Love Thee.

Verse 3:
I'll love Thee in life, I'll love Thee in death
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew llies cold on my brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus 'tis now.

This has been a tough couple of weeks. We went and saw Grandpa, the next week some close friends had their lives completely shaken up, so much that we were afraid that one of them might not be alive. When we started breathing again, the phone rang to tell us Grandpa had passed away. It has been very turbulent.

Today as we sit in our Good Friday worship time, thinking about the death of Jesus and the suffering, I am thinking more about Grandpa. I am thinking about his faith, his life, and his death. One song in particular really got to me. The verse was talking about how even as I am dying, my faith rests in God. I think back to that evening of Erica and Aunt Mary singing with Grandpa and his faith was so much a part of him even as he was leaving this life.

Grandpa was one of my heroes. I didn't know him like my brothers did, but I wanted to be like him.

Good Friday doesn't feel too good to me, but then I suspect that it is not really meant to be uplifting. Good Friday is about death. Good Friday is despair. On Sunday everything changes, at the resurrection all the old rules are out the window, life is different, despair is gone, death is defeated and life reigns eternal in God. Today is Friday, but I'm trying to continue to look to Sunday.

For those of you who have not been contacted, I'm sorry that this is the way that you will find out. I made sure I was not the first to blog (Roberta beat me to it). Grandpa has passed away. Today while I was working out, I was reading his translation of Galatians. Tonight I read it differently. Roberta has a picture of her last visit to Grandpa, check out that site.