On Sunday, my grandfather passed away.  He was days shy of turning 97.  How can one be sad for a man who lived such a full life, who came through the darkest of valleys by God’s grace, who loved God so diligently and endlessly?  Eula Jean Coyle will surely be missed because his example is so hard to find these days.  He lived through the deaths of one pregnant wife, a young infant, and a second beloved wife.  He fathered six children and even lived to see his fifth generation.  What a life!

Personally, I’ve felt pretty stupid through this whole death.  I feel differently about the events.  My Grandma Coyle was sick most of my life, so when she died in 2004, I was sad, but not a broken soul.  Less than a year ago, when my other grandma died, my life was rocked.  It all happened too fast and a woman who had battled and won cancer twice, had lost the third round all too fast and right as I had found the love of my life.  But Pawpaw Coyle was 96.  He’d fought the good fight and finished his race with his torch still lit.  Awesome.  On my way to his funeral yesterday, this poem found me:

Weep not for me.
Weep for the hurting,
the downtrodden,
the ignorant.
Weep for the neglected and
the hated.
Weep for those who do not
know The Way.
Weep not for me.

But rejoice!
Rejoice with me because
I am experiencing the fullness of
joy.
Weep not for me for
I am dancing with my loved ones
who’ve left ahead
of me.
Rejoice with me!
I now see the face of Our Savior
who walked with me
when I was where you are.

Rejoice with me
because
I have kissed the face of My Redeemer.