In Memorium: Edwin Johnson 1928-2013

Grampa with Jonathan, June 2010

My Grampa Ed left this world yesterday.  He had been sick for some time with heart and chronic lung disease.  Hospice did a lot to make his last few months more comfortable and even last Friday he was still driving his car by himself to pick up a prescription at Walmart!  After working with Hospice myself, I now think of the dying process as a laboring, and of death as birth into a new world.  Grampa's hard labor only lasted two or three days.   My mom was his midwife.   At 8 am on Tuesday morning, he was born into  heaven with a new body and a wonderful reunion with many who love him, including his parents Edwin Sr. and Signe Amanda, two of his daughters Maureen and Marian, our own daughter Bethany, and many others.  It's hard to believe that he is not here anymore.  We just saw him last week standing in front of my mom's dining room table and waving to us over Skype! 

Little Jennifer playing with Grampa Ed, 1975

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" II Cor 5:17

This verse frames my Grampa's life perfectly.  He made a lot of mistakes in his adult life.  The beauty of it is that in Christ, people can change.  He did.  Dramatically.

I know different people will have different memories of Grampa, but my memories of him are:  when I was a little girl he was the Naughty Grampa.  When I was a teenager, he Changed.  He stopped smoking.  He became more committed in his relationships.  He reconciled as much as he was able.  He became a faithful church attender and devoted to prayer.  He was deeply grieved over sin in the world.  He testified to how God had saved his life many times and how his mother's prayers had brought him back to Christ.  After the death of his last wife he became committed full time to service of the church, the community, and the neglected. 

He delivered Meals on Wheels for years as often as he could, faithfully, only giving it up reluctantly just a month before he died.  He visited shut-ins.  He was penpals with convicts.  He had a huge correspondence ministry, sending cards, postcards and letters to a large mailing list of elderly, grandkids and great-grandkids, and others.  He wanted to encourage.  He bought special little gifts and cards and stickers to put on the meals he delivered.  His cards and postcards were always plastered with smiley face and Bible verse stickers.  He only wanted to cheer and bring a smile to someone's face, to help them know God's love in their loneliness and pain. 

Boys growing up:  Earl, Eddie and Paul, Centralia, August 1942

Boys all grown up: Earl, Eddie and Paul, Centralia, June 2006

Nursing School Graduation, 1997

2006

Hunter and Grampa, 2006

Lebanon, 2006

June 30, 2007

A  tribute to Grampa Ed wouldn't be complete without a sunset picture.  He was forever coming home with pictures of sunsets he had picked up at yard sales and piles of sunset pictures he had taken himself at the coast or as he stopped along the side of a road to enjoy a beautiful view. 

We will be visiting home in May.  I'm trying to imagine what it will be like without him there....no stash of unglazed old-fashioned donuts on top of the fridge, no little cartons of milk and Meals-on-Wheels leftovers inside, no sound of the clumping of his feet coming up the back porch steps or of him letting out a deep breath at the dining room table.  No more reading outloud of junkmail science at the table.  No more sharing of articles from Decision magazine, his favorite.  No more macaroni jokes.  No more Grampa smell.  No more influx of cheesy stuffed animals and other sparkly flotsam decorating the most random crevices of the house.  No more sounds of water running late at night as he cleaned up the kitchen while my mom was working.  The sounds of his cough from behind his bedroom door.  I will miss all of those things. 

26 February 2013

Dear Grampa Ed,

The time is far overdue for me to tell you some things that are important.  I hope that I will see you again in May, but this just can't wait.  I don't want to have any regrets and need for you to know how much I respect you and what you have given to me in my life.  They are things that I should tell you every time I see you, but even after losing our daughter Bethany I don't cherish the time and the moments as I should.

You have been the best Grampa I can imagine.  You have been a presence in my life as long as I can remember.   I've always known I could count on your love, admiration, support, prayers and encouraging words.  You've always been able to make me smile and laugh.  

So many of my childhood memories include your smiling, laughing face!  If there were to be some family event, if you were going to be there, I wanted to go because you were the Fun Grampa!  One of my favorite memories­­ is visiting you at work at the Lebanon depot.  I remember you showing me your typewriter and how you put the mail bag up for the passing trains.  There wasn't much for kids to do at the depot, but Allan and I liked to slide on the shiny wooden benches and occasionally I would go sneaking into the big dark storeroom for an adventure.  I was proud that my grampa worked at the depot. 

I am so thankful for how you have been a true help in practical things.  Mom did very well helping Allan and I with all of the details of our lives, but you were always there as a back-up to give us a ride home from school or help with a paper route.   I always knew I could call on you if I needed help, and you would be there at a moment's notice. 

Your life testimony makes me proud.  As a kid, I knew that while you were the Fun Grampa, you were also the Naughty Grampa.  You smoked too, and my mommmy taught me smoking was YUCKY!!  That dramatically changed sometime between my child and teenage years when you were changed and began living for God.  Not only did you stop smoking, but you became truly devoted to God and were never ashamed of the Truth.  You began serving your family and others in new ways that reflected the Holy Spirit's influence in your life. 

I remember once when I was in high school at home on Second Street, you came to visit.  My mom wasn't home and we had a long talk at the kitchen table.  I remember you sharing with me about some of the mistakes you had made in the past and your regret over hurting people you loved.  I felt very special that you had made yourself vulnerable to me and shared with me stories that helped explain our family.  I was left with an impression that although you couldn't undo the past you were humbly seeking God's leading in service to Him.  You would have fixed things if you could, but had to leave it in God's hands.  It was the best example you could give to a proud, egocentric teenager. 

I have been so happy that you and my mom have had such a good arrangement for this last decade.  It has been so wonderful to come home to you and my mom together in the same house.  Because of that, my family has been able to spend much more time with you than we would have otherwise, and I'm very thankful. 

Wherever I have gone in the world, I have always taken your photo and displayed it prominently.  You are my HANDSOME, good-looking Grampa ….unlike so many other photos of grandfathers I have seen, grim, grey, and ugly. 

You will have so many people waiting to greet you in heaven.  I don't know who you will be most excited to see, but when you meet our sweet Bethany Joy please give her our love and tell her we'll be there soon and can't wait to see her again. 

I love you Grampa.  I thank you for being you and for being MY grampa. 

Love

Jennifer