When the mists have rolled in splendor from the beauty of the hills, and the sunlight falls in gladness on the river and the rills, we recall our Father’s promise in the rainbow of the spray: We shall know each other better when the mists have rolled away…

My grandfather was a good man… quiet and hard-working… a veteran and an upstanding member of the Hamburg community. He loved his family and his family loved him. My grandfather also was a fisherman. I have never met another person that loved fishing more than he did and yet it never seemed to me that he had an obsession with catching the biggest or the most fish… that was less important than the process of fishing. He seemed to be more interested in the serenity and peace of a big lake and a small boat… even if the tranquility was often interrupted by my blabbering on and on about wanting to catch a really big fish. He taught me invaluable lessons about being still and being quiet… I still apply a fisherman’s mentality at times when I become stressed.

During the past couple of years, my grandfather’s body and mind were ravaged by Alzheimer’s disease… he knew me less and less. When the delusions that come with Alzheimer’s were really bad, one of the few things that still made sense to him was fishing. So my mother would take him as often as possible until he got to a point physically where he just could no longer continue. The fog of Alzheimer’s slowly stole away the man that I knew… leaving the entire family wishing that there was something that we could do to make things better… it’s hard to give up control, I guess.

I saw my grandfather on Mother’s Day… he was in a hospital bed in his home and his shell of a body was beginning to show signs of giving up. I saw my grandmother on Mother’s Day… she held his hand and stroked his head… he still understood love… that’s good to know.

Last night, my mother sat with my grandfather and held his hand as his breathing became deep and labored. She lovingly told him that it was time to get up and go fishing. Less than a minute later, my grandfather traded in his earthly body for a heavenly one. I know that one day he’ll recognize me once again… when the mists have rolled away. He’s fishing with Jesus now… maybe not actually fishing, but he was never all that interested in the actual fish anyway… he just wanted to sit with Jesus for a bit.

…We shall know as we are known, nevermore to walk alone; In the dawning of the morning of that bright and happy day, we shall know each other better when the mists have rolled away.