I always liked Uncle Harold. He was a quiet man, but he always had a joke or story to tell. And he always took the time to talk to ME. I can still here him say, "Danny, did you ever hear about..." I liked when he talked to me. I liked how unassuming he was. I liked how quiet and thoughtful he was. I liked his sense of humor. I generally just liked being around him. I never really knew my grandpa Bernard, but Harold seemed more like him than anyone else I knew. He was a good guy.
He was a farmer, a rural mail carrier, a pilot, and he made wooden toys. I still have some around the house that he made when I was a child (pictured are the ping-pong ball gun and whatever the other thing is). I suspect he was good at everything he did. He was the type of gentle soul that I wish I were. A good guy.
Anyway, while it's always sad when someone dies, I am glad that his suffering is no more. He had been living in a nursing home these past few years, and I'm sure it was not easy for him. I have no doubt that if people really go to heaven when we die, he is there.
The words of Jesus in John 14:2-4
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”
