Being Chuck

I could be wrong (wouldn’t be the first time, nor will it be the last), but very few people, if any at all, are prepared for the finality that the death of a loved one seems to bring.

My grandfather, Charles Russell, died when I was in 8th grade. To me, it was sudden, unexpected, and heart breaking. I’m sure it was for a lot of people.  But more than anyone else, it was hard for my grandmother, Catherine Russell. Life changed drastically for her. A lifelong friend, her husband, her confidant was gone. But that thin little woman, whose size belied her incredible strength, lived on.

But after a few years age, and maybe a little loneliness, began to take their toll. Dementia set in.

Things that were once so familiar gradually became foreign. Friends and family became different people. Some of them were other friends or family. Some were strangers. Life changed once more.

And for some I would imagine (at least it was so for me), Grandma wasn’t really Grandma anymore. She was still my grandmother. I loved her and missed her when we weren’t there, but she wasn’t Grandma anymore.

So when this day came, I expected it would be a little easier to swallow, because she hadn’t been Grandma for so long.

I was wrong.

My mom called me today. Grandma passed away.

I am so sad. I miss her. I haven’t seen her in so long, and now I won’t. At least not for quite some time.

That pseudo finality I spoke of earlier doesn’t feel so “pseudo” right now. The death of someone close (or even sometimes someone not-so-close) causes pain and seems to remind us of that feeling of finality.

There is pain from want (“I will miss them”).

There is pain from regret (“I wonder if they knew…” or “I wish I had…”).

But there is also pain from the realization of mortality.

My first thought today when I heard from my mom was, “There’s the end of an era. This brings a close to a chapter in history.”

That’s how we think as finite beings. Everything has an end. Nothing lives on forever, not in this world anyway.

But we’re wrong.

The legacy Grandpa and Grandma left behind will live on forever. And nothing can end that.

There are thousands upon thousands of people whose lives have been forever altered by the fact that they “happened” to cross paths with Charles and Catherine Russell. And there are thousands upon thousands upon thousands more whose lives have been forever altered by the ripple effect of those encounters.

If I sought to write about those people, even if I only chose a few, this would become a long read indeed. But that isn’t my goal.

My goal is this:

I want people to know that despite the fact that Grandpa died years ago and despite the fact that Grandma died (and hasn’t been Grandma for a while), nothing can change the fact that they have changed the world. Their devotion to Christ, His church, and each other has had a profound effect on our world.

Whether by being completely committed to showing others the love of Jesus, or by having sons and daughters who have done the same, or by growing and equipping other people they met along the way, they have been agents of change.

It is not the end of an era. It’s not even really the end of a life.

This is only the beginning.