Travelin’ On
The last time I saw my grandpa was here in Dallas, four months ago, when his trip here turned much longer than planned after a heart attack. He was 85 years old, completely blind and my grandma had driven him down here to play guitar in a music festival. After the festival, he didn’t feel so great and went straight to the hospital, which turned into a couple surgeries in a couple weeks. When he was released, he stayed a few days with my uncle before he and my grandma made the eleven hour drive back home to Southern Illinois. I went and spent the day with them before they left, playing Scrabble with my grandma by the pool while my grandpa dozed inside in the easy chair. As I was leaving that night, I gently woke him and told him I was leaving. He couldn’t see me, but he spread his arms out and said, “Okay, Hon. I love you. Goodbye.” I hugged and kissed him tenderly, so thankful for the chance to say goodbye. So thankful to have a grandpa who loved me.
The things that could be said about him are numerous. He was a big man, with an even bigger presence. He loved to entertain and he loved to tell stories. He had an opinion on pretty much everything. He was the best guitar player I’ve ever known. He loved his family and he loved to make everyone feel like family. My memories of visiting him always include him standing there expectantly when we walked in the door, his hands in the pockets of the overalls he was always wearing, a silly grin on his face and saying “Where’s that Leslie?” as he waited for me to come hug him. He would say the same thing to each of my kids, (his great-grandkids). He loved to talk (argue) theology with my husband and encourage (argue with) him as he progressed in his studies. He loved to hear my girls sing and encourage them with what sounded good and challenge them with what they needed to work on.
He rests now. His fight is done and his sight is being restored. I believe I’ll see him again someday and he’ll see me too. Last weekend, we traveled up to Illinois to bury him in the little church graveyard down the road from the house in the woods where he lived with my grandma all these years. All three of his children and their spouses were there, all eight of his grandchildren (and spouses of the married ones) were there, and all ten great-grandchildren were there. The bigness of such a moment swallowed me wholly inside of it and I was blessed beyond measure to be a part of it. We said goodbye to his body as it lay amidst the most flowers I have ever seen in once place at one time in my life. My dad and I shared a moment together as we discussed the significance of the flowers being the way things are supposed to be as he has now gone back to the garden. My brothers, my cousin and my mom’s cousins carried his casket to the grave that he and my grandma have had ready for years. The preacher prayed final prayers over him and we cried and we laughed together. Many flowers were left there on the grave and the funeral home brought the rest of them to my grandma’s house that afternoon, where an assembly line formed as we put one beautiful flower arrangement after another on her front porch. The grandkids and great-grandkids all played together in the front yard, some tossing a football, some playing America’s Got Talent, some hiding behind trees and running and making piles of sticks and some spinning delightfully in circles. As the sun set that evening, I went for a walk with Chris down the gravel driveway out to the corn fields. I liked the way our long shadows looked on the road in front of us. And as we came back to the house, we noticed everybody gathered around every car in the driveway, all of them tuned loudly to the live Saturday night show at the Opry, where Vince Gill was playing a tribute to my grandpa.
Here is what we heard.
First, the introduction to the show, talking about my grandpa:
Then Vince Gill, opening the show with my grandpa’s song:
And after church on Sunday, we all ate at Grandpa’s favorite restaurant

Goodbye, Grandpa. Thank you for such a big legacy. I love you.

And finally, two videos:
The first from 1959, singing his first big hit
And the second from just last year, singing and playing the last song he wrote


































What a wonderful tribute, Leslie. Makes me cry.
I’m glad you had such a great and wonderful man for a grandpa, and for the love of music that has been passed through all those generations. What a gift! Thanks for sharing. I love you.
Thank you Leslie. It’s a beautiful tribute to that most joyous home going. Our Lord is good, always! Thank you Lord for my dad.
This was a beautiful post. Your mama has the best smile!
Leslie, thank you for posting this. I had no idea your grandfather had passed away. This makes me feel like I was there with you all celebrating his homegoing. You and your family do an excellent job of loving each other well!
Les, I’ve gone back and read this four times now. Looked at the pictures more than ten. Have you ever seen grandma’s house so beautiful, decorated with flowers and family alike? I feel like the luckiest guy in the world when I look through these. Thanks for capturing it in a way that only you can do. Love you, Rob
Thank you all. I know what you mean, Rob. I came home from that trip feeling like it was the best trip of my life. I felt blessed beyond belief. I love you too, my brother.