Your Grandma Peckinpaugh

They say death is hardest on the living. Four years ago this month an angel got her wings. Someday I will explain what this term means, but for now I'd like to tell you about a person you will never meet, but I want you to know. It's a person who loved your father like I love you. It's about your Grandma Peckinpaugh. She had to leave us before you arrived and someday I'll explain the reason why she had to go, but here is what you need to know...

Your Grandma Peckinpaugh had the heart of a teacher. She was a teacher. When I talk to people who had her as a teacher, they smile and tell stories about how much they loved her as a teacher. She made an impact on these young minds. She changed lives. She was a good teacher. Your Grandma Peckinpaugh loved children. When your cousins came over to visit she couldn't stop smiling. She was meant to care for children. It was her calling. Her passion.

When your Dad walked into a room, her face lit up and she would stand on her tippy toes and wrap her arms around him. Your Dad was very special to her. I know that because she told me. I sat in a car and she told me how much your Dad meant to her. She told me how smart he was and how caring he was and how much she loved him. As your dad walked back to the car she smiled at him with a smile that came from deep inside. She smiled the way a mother smiles at her son, from the inside.

I made a promise to your Grandma Peckinpaugh that day. I told her I would take care of your Dad, that I loved him and I would care for him. And she nodded her head the way a mother nods her head when meeting her son's future wife with happiness sprinkled with an ounce of doubt. With the understanding that no one could possibly love him the way she loved him, her son.

And now I understand the depth of her love for your Dad because I love you that way. When I see you, my smile comes from the inside.

Every Christmas your Grandma would call us all in the living room and we would pass DVDs around a  circle while she sang. When she stopped singing we were stuck with whatever DVD was in our hands. She loved that game because all the people she loved sat in a circle. All the people she loved were in the same room, under the same roof, in her home.

Your Grandma Peckinpaugh had a kind heart, a compassionate heart. She was thoughtful and went out of her way to make sure people knew she was thinking of them. She sent two cards to your Grandma White. She was thoughtful.

Your Grandma Peckinpaugh could cook. Oh, could she cook. There wasn't a time I visited where she wasn't in the kitchen creating a masterpiece. And her children never went home empty handed. She always made extra to make sure they had food on the table even if it wasn't in her home.

Some days I can feel her presence. The sun shines in a certain way or the rain lightens up and I know she is watching you. She is getting to know you. Although she wasn't physically present when I married your father or when we brought you into this world, her presence was known. She was there. She is here.

Your Grandma Peckinpaugh loves you. I know it's hard to understand how someone could love you when they haven't even met you, but she loved your father and she loved your mother and there isn't a doubt in my mind she loves you too. Someday, we can sit down and we can talk about your Grandma Peckinpaugh, but for now just know that she loves you, Jack.

She loves you in a way only a Mom can love her son. She loves you in a way only a Grandma can love her Grandson.