Hard Lessons Learned

March 7, 2021 was not only my 14th birthday, but it was also the day I lost one of the most important men in my life. For as long as I can remember I called my great-grandfather “TAH''. Three years later, I turn 17 today and I still have an overabundance of feelings. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t wish that Tah was still here to walk by me through life. Especially now that I am starting to walk through lots of transitions and starting to think about what life after high school will look like.

Now by no means do I say this to sound selfish, but now March 7th will never be the same. It won’t only be my birthday but it will be a reminder of the loss that affected not just me but my family on that Friday night in March. I sat to the left of my great-grandfather's hospital bed as my family and I watched his life slowly fade. This was one of the hardest things I have had to walk through and at times I still have to deal with it in my life. I considered myself incredibly lucky to have had a total of 10 great-grandparents in my life and the relationships that I got to experience with them. Of course, losing any family member, let alone a great-grandparent is hard,  but something about losing my great-grandfather was different.

When we moved back to Mid-Missouri in 2015, one of the biggest downfalls was how far away we were from family. Living three and a half  hours north of Springfield, I didn’t get to go see him as much as I wanted. My schedule made it extremely difficult due to all of the sports I am a part of, the farm, and school. It was incredibly hard to get down and see them. It’s been almost two years and I regret not making it as much of a priority to get down and see them. I remember Christmas of my freshman year and one of the last true conversations I had with him. We talked about certain things like how life, sports, farm work had been going since the last time we talked. After we had caught up for a bit, Tah started to talk in his tone of voice that meant he was serious. It kind of caught me off guard to be honest. I mean we had tons of conversations that were serious, but there was something different with this one. 

It was just the two of us in the room at the time when he started to say something. He started off by saying that he had been doing some thinking while he sat in his recliner. He spent most of his time in that worn out, brown leather recliner due to the fact that his health declined so quickly the last several years of his life. He continued to say that over the past 14 years one of the biggest joys in his life was watching his great-grandkids grow up. He said he would absolutely never ask for it to be any other way.  He told me that he was incredibly proud of the young man I had become and was going to become in the years that he wouldn’t be here. We shared plenty of tears on that day. For me the whole conversation was extremely eye opening.  I was not naive enough to think that I was going to get to live my whole life with my great-grandpa by my side. But when Tah started to talk about life after he passed away it all became so real, like scary real. I realized that in the large scale of time I really only had a sliver left with Tah by my side. 

Then, came March 3, 2021, Tah had fallen at the house late that night which then triggered a number of his other health issues. EMT’s transported him by ambulance to Cox Medical Center South. My dad got a call from my grandma. Grandma told dad that it was time to get everyone down so we could all start to say our goodbyes just in case he did not come back from this one. My initial reaction was he has had all kinds of health scares in his short eighty-one year life. There was no reason to think he would not come back from this scare either.

We got up early on the morning of the fourth and started a three and a half hour drive down south. I had made this trip more times than I can count, but none of them had been this nerve racking and scary. I was legitimately scared of what I was going to see in the next couple of days because there was just a different feeling to this trip. I can still remember the whole lay out of the hospital room that Tah was in that week. Tah was not showing any improvement but was also not getting worse. It was just a waiting game at this point, which was not a good thing for me because if anyone knows me even a little you know that I do not have an overabundance of patience. I was to the point that I just wanted something to change no matter what it was. Tah was in really rough shape when I went in to see him about two or three o’clock in the afternoon of the sixth. Dad, Wes, Jordan, Grandma, and Memaw all stayed in Tah’s room during dinner time. Mom, Aunt Julie, Aunt Mel, me and the rest of the kids on that side of the family went back to Aunt Mel and Uncle Jordan’s house for dinner. I remember that dinner was a mess that night. We ordered WingStop, our very large order was dropped off when we found out that half of the order was forgotten. Aunt Julie and I then went to WingStop to get the half that had been forgotten. For me this was a way to just attempt to get something else on my mind to act as a distraction. 

That night, Tah went downhill very quickly. The next morning, I knew things were getting worse because Mom and Dad had made the decision that since I had got to say goodbye the night before I wouldn’t go and see him declining and would have a somewhat good memory with Tah. They did not want me to lose that experience by going to see him in very poor shape. At first I was infuriated with them for not letting me see him. We got the call at about 11 o’clock on the night of the seventh from my dad that he had passed away. We got the call while at my “birthday dinner” at Aunt Mel and Uncle Jordan’s house with Mom, Julie, Mel, and all of the grandkids.  I felt guilty that we were doing something for me when Tah was laying in the hospital dying. Being fully transparent I still deal with this guilt today. The next couple of days were very tough, there were lots of unanswered questions that had to be answered very quickly. We struggled through the funeral and burial over the week but got through it.   

The next couple of weeks, we drove back down to spend some time with family. We stayed at my grandparents house, and my great-grandma’s house was only a few blocks away, so I walked over to spend some time with my great-grandma. In the weeks after the funeral Memaw had sent some boxes that she gave to my family and I. Mixed with these boxes was one with my name on. I was so scared to open this box for the longest time because I felt as if it was the last thing I had with Tah. I was afraid that if I opened it that it would disappear as fast as I opened it. I remember there was a specific night that I was struggling with some stuff and was unable to sleep. So I got out of bed and walked over to my closet to grab the box. Then I opened the box.  This box was filled with books and a piece of folded paper that was labeled “For Kaleb”. I never asked who technically wrote it since Tah could not since he was blind but it will not change the meaning of this gift. I kept it a secret until last year from everyone but my great-grandma.

I opened the folded piece of paper and started to read it. It was formatted as a letter and read:

“Dear Kaleb,

In the box there are five books that I was able to read before I lost my vision. I think that you will thoroughly enjoy the books in the box; they are about sports, military history, and American history. On a seperate [sic] note I wanted to tell you something that has been on my mind that I have prayed over you for a while. I want you to know that you can do anything you decide to do. Whether it is you choosing to pursue sports or something else that you decide to do. You have grown into an incredible young man and will continue to grow in your faith and as a person. This is not a goodbye. I need you to watch over Memah for me, it has been a very long time since she has not had to take care of me. I am willing to still talk with you whenever you want to just say the word and I will be right there.

Love you buddy, Tah”  

Fast forwarding to today, I have read each book at least once if not twice. Tah was indeed right, I did enjoy all of them. Although if you would have asked him he would have jokingly said that he was always right and that he knew what he was talking about. In fairness most of the time he was not too far off. 

So what has this journey taught me? This journey has taught me many very valuable lessons. Here are a three...

Lesson one, this has taught me the importance of and the value of the time you have with the most valuable things in life. When I say valuable things I mean the things that you only get once - the family members, the once in a lifetime memories, etc. Value these things because they are numbered and won’t be around forever. James 4:14 says “ How do we know what our lives will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog-it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.”

Lesson two, this has taught me that pain is ok but not permanent. I struggle with this thought for a couple of reasons. A big one being that I often think that when the pain goes away so does everything that came before the pain. When you dive a bit deeper into what the Bible says about pain you will find that the Bible often refers to “Pain” as a part of a greater process. Romans 8:18 says “The pain you’ve been feeling, can’t compare to the joy that is coming.”

Lesson three is that we can not allow the events of life - no matter how tragic that it gets - to get in the way of our faith and relationship with God. Hear me, I am not trying to say that you should not feel pain or not grieve. You absolutely should and it is healthy to do so to a certain point. It only becomes an issue when you let your pain and grief get in the way of God. 2 Corinthians 4: 17-18 says “For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” 

In closing, I'll just say this. As much as loss and death hurts, it has to happen. It has to happen because it's laid out in God's plan. As much as it hurts, it all leads to a bigger and much more beautiful picture. Take some time out of your day today to hug your loved ones a bit harder around the neck so that you don’t regret not doing it in the future. Speaking from experience, don't give yourself the opportunity to regret not saying you love someone or not saying goodbye. We never know when the last chance to do so will be, so don’t gamble and just go the extra step to be sure.

 Love you Tah, 3 years later and we miss you more than ever down here.