Grandpa Frank

My most vivid memory of Grandpa Frank, aside from the “Wogs” (the nickname he had for me) and sitting on his lap as a kid, being squeezed into a ball, and being told I would grow up that way, is a few years ago when he bore his testimony in a church meeting. Paraphrasing, Grandpa said:

“I miss my wife. I miss my daughter. I miss them so much. But this Gospel tells me I will see them again. That means more to me than anything. And I know it’s true, and that brings me so much comfort.”

As the legend goes, Grandma Leach converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in her early 30s. While Grandma lugged kids to church every Sunday, Grandpa Frank would watch football, golf, or go fishing. He seldom attended. He showed little to no interest in church.

Again, as legend goes, after over a decade of this, the bishop of Grandma’s ward came to the door one day.

“Are you excited for this Saturday?!” He asked.

“What is happening Saturday?” Grandma asked, confused.

“Frank’s baptism!” The bishop exclaimed.

Grandma had no idea. For months, on the sly, Grandpa Frank had been meeting with the missionaries and studying the Book of Mormon. He decided it was true. I have no idea why he never told Grandma. I don’t think anyone knows. Maybe this is where I get my secretive, stubborn, frustratingly independent qualities (sorry Beth).

That Saturday he got baptized and proceeded to go to church with the family from then on.

What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

Change. A man who preferred football, golf, or fishing realized the most important thing in his world was his family. He sacrificed what he wanted to do on Sunday for them.

What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

Faith. A man who decided to believe something extraordinary: he could and would spend eternity with those he loved most.

What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

Love.

I didn’t cry when I heard Grandpa died. I know I’ll see him again. I know where he is. I know he’s happy.

As I write this, a vision comes to my mind.

Grandpa Frank sees Grandma Sandra. He smiles. He is overjoyed to be reunited with the love of his love, his constant companion until the previous four years separated them temporarily. He embraces her. “It’s really true, Sandra?”

“You always knew it was,” Grandma tells him.

Others come. Grandpa is surrounded by Laura, Mike, Henry, Olivia, parents, grandparents, friends, loved ones, and Bengie, of course. They rejoice. People (and a dog) he missed so much, but always knew he’d see again.

As I picture this reunion, and I think about where I am, similarly stubborn and obnoxious as Grandpa Frank, I think about my daughters, and this family I’ve been given. I think about the faith I’ve gained because I’ve seen examples of real faith. Faith as tangible as this keyboard I now type on. Grandpa Frank’s faith was real. I think about those I’ll one day see again. I think about those I have in my life now, that I’ll be able to have in my life forever. As I consider this all, I cry tears of joy.

This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I know that Grandpa knew it and I know where he is now.

What greater comfort is there than this?

Thank you, Grandpa, I’ll see you soon.