My Popaw Can Fix Anything

Children often put an adult in their life on a pedestal:

"My dad is better than your dad"
"My sister is cooler than your sister."
"My big brother can beat up your big brother."
 "My Popaw can fix anything."

Then you grow up and you see that you were disillusioned. Reality sets in as you grow up and get to know the adult in your life as a person. Your perspective changes. You see their flaws, but you love them and very likely still admire them. 

My cousin Tanner and I spent a lot of time at Grammy and Popaw's house when we were growing up. I know that one of us probably said that Popaw could fix anything at least once a week. Popaw took me to pick blackberries, "hunting for treasures" in old barns, hunting for minnows at Hummel Park that we took home in a big 5 gallon bucket, and for rides on the tractor in the snow.
He took Tanner "fishing" in the swimming pool, to play basketball, and Tanner always talks about the day that Popaw saved his life.
Popaw was definitely our man on the pedestal, our friend, our fixer, and our teacher.

I am now 24, a mother and a wife. Tanner is 18 and in college. We both had the privilege of knowing Popaw through a child's perspective and as adults. I had the privilege of living with my Grammy and Popaw from age 16 until I got married at 20. My perspective didn't change. My Popaw is still all of the things and more than I recognized as a child, a Godlier man than any other that I have ever known.

My Popaw is funny, funnier than I probably was able to recognize as a child.
My Popaw is a storyteller. His stories about the eccentric neighbor next door brought me to tears of laughter more than once.
My Popaw is a counselor. I know many men that sought and respected his advice.
My Popaw is even keeled, his feathers not easily ruffled.
My Popaw is smart. He almost always has an answer to a "how" or "why."
My Popaw is humble. He's not afraid to say "I don't know."
My Popaw is candid. He tells it like it is and takes care of things. 
My Popaw has a tender heart and a deep love of God.
My Popaw is a worshipper.
My Popaw can fix anything.

Though my Popaw went home to be with Jesus a few weeks ago I don't like when people speak of him in the past tense unless they don't know the Lord. Popaw's existence did not cease. It only ceased here on earth and I know that is not the end for him or for me.
I sang at my Popaw's funeral. I honestly don't know how good it was or wasn't. I just know I was focused on just getting through and I did. I know that Popaw would think it was beautiful no matter how technical it was or wasn't.  I'm thankful that I had the opportunity to give of myself in that way.

A horseshoe hangs on a stained plaque next to my bed. A bunk bed for dolls that Popaw made is in the corner of my daughter's bedroom. A few tools that Popaw taught my husband to use rest in a closet. I see Popaw's handwriting on my tax returns, paperwork, etched into the back of a wooden plaque he made and I am thankful.
I'm thankful that I didn't have to say goodbye to my Popaw. I just said I love you and I know he knew that also meant see you soon. 

 At the end of my Popaw's burial service, a man approached me that I knew of by name, but not by face. He told me how lovely my singing was and how dear my Popaw is to him. Because of God and His work through my Popaw, this man, Paul Collins, will be in Heaven. Popaw set a couple of men aside in his heart and prayers when he chose to follow Christ. Those two men are now Christians and are leading others to the Lord.  This is the kind of legacy that I want to leave when my existence on earth ceases.

I have experienced more of the comfort and love of God in this time than I knew possible. While this has certainly been one of the most trying experiences of my life, it has also been one of the most spiritual. I hope that I can live out some of the legacy that Popaw leaves here on earth until I see him in heaven. I hope that I can grow into a woman that my daughter and one day grandchildren will have the opportunity to know as an adult and be touched by some of the legacy my Popaw left that lives on in me.