As many of you have heard, my grandpa died a couple of weeks ago. He was 88 years old. I have such fond memories of visiting him and my grandma in Oregon. I loved my grandma's cooking and my grandpa's tracker rides.
I stumbled across some photos tonight we took when we last visited in Oregon three years ago. It was a lovely Christmas with our family. We assumed this might be our last trip to their home. We were sadly right.
Last year my grandma fell, breaking her hip, and my grandpa began to slowly decline. My mom had to go and care for her and my grandpa for nearly 3 months. My aunt, dad, and mom ended up bringing them to Riverside the day Jackson was born. Little did I know that Jackson's first year of life would be my grandpa's last.
We were in Sacramento last week for his funeral. I spoke about Paul's words in 1 Cor. 15 about how death has no sting for those who hope in Jesus Christ. My grandpa trusted Christ as his savior. His faith wasn't futile. Christ does save sinners. What great comfort there is in these words. And what great hope that one day in eternity I will be worshiping my creator and look over to see my grandpa doing the same thing!
Here are a few precious photos:
