Dan Granger

Best I Can

Words fail me recently. And by recently, I mean around 6 months. When my heart overflows – with grief or joy or uncertainty – I write. My fingers release in type what my tongue can’t grasp. I don’t know why I work this way. One of His interesting intricacies. 

Dan used to draw and doodle the entire church service. I have a full shelf of morphed figures and penciled oddities. Early on I got irritated and wrongly assumed he was not listening. How wrong I was! Dan learned to concentrate by distracting/occupying his creative brain so the logical, rational side could completely focus. Doodles became a comfort that he was fully engaged, listening – to me, a sermon, a movie, etc. 

I said to someone this week, “I know Dan like I know the back of my own hand.” And it’s true. I know his characteristics, his mannerisms. The things he’d belly laugh over, the events he’d hate, the events of Cassidy’s life he’d cry in pride over, things he’d feel I’ve done well (and poorly), and the people he’d be disappointed in since August 17th.

But, none of that really matters – in big picture reality – because he entered eternity. I work every day to readjust my compass – my mind, will, and emotions – to reflect that truth, while honoring his memory.

This week was a hard one. I spent almost two full days crying. A fact I do not tell for sympathy, but context. I hid it even from my daughter until we talked about our individual weeks last night. These current sufferings, these pains, the questions, awakenings, reliefs, disappointments, love, anger… they’re ours. Dan’s and mine. They’re private. The final ‘new’ emotions – excepting the joy of memory – I will experience with/for/about Dan Granger. 

Oh how I loved that man’s heart and mind. Only over time did I learn to accept his choices, for his life. It doesn’t matter I never agreed with some of them. Because I’m certain the feeling was reciprocal. In the end, I loved him well. As well as this flawed, thinks-too-much, often insecure person could. We made 1,001 daily mistakes along the way… but, who doesn’t? Thank you, Lord, for Your grace that covers every shortcoming.

Author

mgranger813@gmail.com
Melissa Granger grew up outside Austin in the Texas Hill Country, as the oldest of three daughters to Fred and Eileen Toewe. Since 1989, I've slowly migrated eastward along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. Ten years later in 1998, a move to the Eastern Shore of Mobile Bay brought marriage, a family, and a busy, sweet contentedness. My daughter Cassidy and I currently reside in the country between Fairhope and Silverhill on the 5+ acre 'pretend' farm built with my late husband. We attempt to preserve his memory well as we also move forward in fullness & anticipation of great opportunities of our futures.

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