Grandpa Kinghorn

My grandpa, pictured in my last post, passed away last week. I flew to Idaho and spent the weekend in my home with my brothers for the first time since the 1990's. It was a joyful time of reconnecting and reminiscing and eating cake. Our culture likes to comfort mourners with cake.



It was cold for me! The day before I flew out, we were at the zoo and it was 100 degrees. Grandpa's funeral was on the crispiest of fall days. Sunny, but cold. I'm not used to sunny and cold together in the same sentence.

I will miss my grandpa. He always said, "Come when you can stay longer," no matter how long you had just stayed with him. He always cried when we said good-bye and looked for some cash to send with me. He was 95 and had almost 60 great-grandchildren, but he knew all their names and ages right up to the end. He loved his family.

If I know my grandpa, he's probably already started looking for land in heaven to build a cabin. I'm also sure he's wanted to go hunting and fishing, but I'm not sure there are permits for that in heaven. Well, then again, it wouldn't be heaven for him if he couldn't.



Between family events, I had time to experience Idaho in the fall. I had to drink in all that color. I just love it.



Of course, there is always time for pictures.



Because Grandpa served in WWII, he was given military rights at the grave site. I wished my kids could have been there for that. Grandpa was the last of my ancestors to serve in the war. I don't know when they will ever see a 21-gun-salute at a funeral or hear Taps. It was such a powerful, emotional moment.




It was very fulfilling, being at home at a time like this, so full of reflection and love of family. I'm grateful for my belief that he is happy in heaven, just waiting for us to come join him for a long stay!