A Grandfather's Legacy

Yesterday my Grampa came over and taught the boys how to make peanut brittle. This was an incredibly special day for me, for many reasons. Those of you who are around me often know how these last 2 years have been since I became Grampa's "caregiver" in a sense, so forgive me for repeating myself, but I really want to put this on paper, so to speak.
In September of 2005, my Grandma and Grampa Walker came to visit on their way to wintering in Texas. They've lived in Texas for 1/2 the year ever since I graduated high school in 1994. Maybe longer. Every fall and every spring they would stop in Greenville to say hello, spend a couple nights and rest up for the continuing trip and visit the great-grand children who seemed to increase in number each visit. I looked forward to this event so much. I love my Grandparents. They have spoiled me, listened to me and loved on me since, well, forever. I would sit and just revel in my Grampa's stories that were filled with history and adventure. Grandma would tell me about the family and her church and what she won or didn't win at bingo. It was always a wonderful time and I was always sad to see them head on their way because I knew it would be six months before I saw them again. We would call each other often and I'd hear the same old stories. It was comforting to me.
On this particular trip, however, I knew my Grandma's health was failing. When I visited them in Joliet that summer, I could see how fragile she was. Our entire family was afraid for them to travel on to Texas. God intervened for us. Miraculously, my Grampa blew a tire just as he was leaving Joliet and had to spend all his traveling money on repairing the van and on a hotel. When they finally made it to Greenville, Grampa asked if he could stay with us until his next payday. The answer was obvious. This gave me 2 weeks to get Grandma into the doctor, where we learned she was in congestive heart failure and had a serious staph infection, due in part to her diabetes that was never really controlled. Grampa was doing his best to take care of her but he was so sleep deprived he couldn't keep her medication straight. It was rough. Our doctor told us Grandma was hanging on by a thread. She was rushed to St. Luke's in St. Louis and stayed there for a week, then transferred back to Greenville for another 2 or 3 weeks until she was finally sent to the rehabilitation center to continue gaining strength.
All this time, Grampa would come home at night and stay with us. Then in the middle of October, Grandma came home, too. There was no way they would make it to Texas again, so they decided to make their home in G-ville. With us. We have a smallish size house, especially for a family of 6 and now 8! Three of the boys were in one room, Grandma and Grampa in another and Elijah (who was 6 months old) moved in with us. I was also babysitting in our home at the time. It was chaos. And looking back, I wouldn't trade any of it.
My Grandparents got their own apartment eventually, just down the road. A few months later, my Grandma died. That was one of the toughest times of my life. We left the hospital on a Sunday after coming to show her Ethan's newest tumbling trophy. She clapped for him and was so alert and happy to see her great-grandsons. We left that night not knowing that was it. But before I walked out, Grandma kept saying she was so scared...and I leaned over, brushed her hair away from her face and asked her if she loved Jesus and she said, "oh yes, more than anything." Then I sang "Great is Thy Faithfulness" and she fell asleep. She lost consciousness that night and she died the next day. (on a lighter note, I did find out you can make it from Greenville to Chesterfield, Mo in 30 minutes....) I was with her when she died, along with my Mom and sister and, of course, Grampa. I wish I could describe to you those final moments, but they are just too precious to me to share right now, even though it's been 2 years.
All this to tell you that Grampa has been with us ever since. He still has his own apartment, but not a day goes by that we aren't helping each other with something. I'm terrified of losing him. I'm extremely over protective. I'm a little tired of hearing those same old stories that I was so thrilled to hear long ago but, when that day comes that I don't get to hear them....
So yesterday, Grampa came over to teach my boys how to make peanut brittle. His specialty. I wrote down the recipe but I doubt it will ever come out the same as when Grampa makes it.