Grandpa Landis

My Grandpa Landis was a quiet man.

Folks would say, "Your Grandpa is a quiet man. But when he speaks, everyone pays attention."

He wore overalls on the farm.
He would empty the contents of his numerous pockets into our hands and turn cartwheels end on end across the green lawn. I remember holding nails.
He had a sense of humor. When we'd go boating he would rock the boat so hard that it seemed as if it would roll over. He would brake his car when we were eating ice cream cones in the back seat and this was the day before seat belts. On dark summer nights, when I was leaving to walk the long lane home, he would say, "Watch out for the polecats!" It was years later that I realized that polecats were skunks-not wolves as I imagined.

One time my grandmother was complaining to him about her weight and he said, "There's just more of you to love. " That's my memory anyway.

He liked to polish rocks in his rock polisher.
He collected Indian arrowheads. I have some of his in my top drawer in a little glass jar.
He offered us raw sunflower seeds that he kept on the back porch near his rock polisher.
He liked when I played,"Come Thou Fount" on the piano. Sometimes, I'd sing it for him.

When the grandkids were all together, we would play a good game of softball.
He bought us a yard dart game, too, and would sit and watch us play from his chair on the front porch.
I think the reason that I like summer storms so much is because we would watch them coming from that front porch. I loved the fury and the safety. We were with God in the storm, and with our grandparents on the porch. What could be better than that?

Sometimes, he would take us to a place called "Rough and Tumble." He would drive his tractor in the parade of old steam engines. He'd buy us black raspberry ice cream.

He and my grandma would take trips across the United States and bring us back little gifts and knick-knacks from the places they visited. I remember being given a little leather purse and a beaded Indian doll.

One day, my grandpa went out to the orchard to pick apples. He came back into the house and fell asleep on the sofa. He woke up in Heaven.

I remember my mother, washing and ironing his final white shirt, crying as she did so.
The funeral director said that he never saw grandkids carry on like that at a funeral.

My Grandpa Landis would love our farm here in Virginia.
I wish my children could know him.
I wish he could rock their boat and get ice cream on their faces.
I wish he could turn cartwheels and hear their squeals of delight.

I like to think of Grandpa being up in Heaven with God and Grandma.
I like to think of him being with my dad and my brother's wife, Naomi.
I like to think of him greeting my mother when it is her time to go.
I like to think of Grandpa Landis.
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Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above;
Praise the mount I'm fixed upon it
Mount of Thy redeeming love.