What is the measure, the measure of a life?

My sister, Abby, asked this question and it really made me pause for a moment. This is both the week of Thanksgiving and the week of my grandfather's death. It is a week of thankfulness and time to be with family. This Thanksgiving week just happens to include an occasion which is bringing together far more of our family than normal. And though I have grieved my loss and am certain that I will continue to do so, I am thankful for many things. I am thankful for the life and death of my grandfather. He was not my biological grandfather, but was the only one that I ever knew.

He was a quiet, reserved man at home, who boomed out his "Amens" and out of tune hymns at church. He had a strong faith and I'm confident that he's now free of pain and with his great Creator. He was always a bit of a mystery to me, rarely talking, but always willing to let us watch the news with him or follow him around. I always loved him, but grew to cherish him over the past two years, as I spent time with him at the nursing home. I didn't know him as anything other than a kind, quiet, gentle man. I didn't know him when he was young, when he pursued his first wife, went to war, raised his daughter, buried his wife, and then met and married my grandmother. I don't know what kind of husband, father, or friend he was to others. The measure of the man that I knew was laughter, quietness, gentility, patience and a deep and abiding love for God. He was my beloved Pop and I will miss him very much.