It’s that time again, October, when all the trees are losing
their leaves…and we remember the day when we lost you six years ago. Except we
didn’t lose you. Not forever. You’re waiting for us to catch you up, I know.
It’s just that the waiting on this end of eternity seems to take an eternity,
and I miss you—we miss you—and I wish I could call you up like I used to do just
to hear your voice or ask you a simple question that I probably already knew
the answer to but wanted to hear you say it, just to make sure I was
getting it right. Because that’s the way I am, I need to know I’m right, and
you always seemed to understand that even though I’m sure we knocked heads
again and again because of it.
We now have an Amish store here in Tustin. You’d love it,
Dad. Ben and I stopped there this morning on our way home from helping rake leaves at church. We bought a dozen donuts and thought of you as we ate some of them, because you would love their soft, doughy sweetness. You would
love everything about this little store: the warm glowing gas lights suspended from the
ceiling, the bulk foods and soup mixes, the bakery and shelves of candy, the rustic furniture
and handmade items. It’s like all your favorite stores in Shipshewana under one
roof. Most of all you’d love the people who own it. And just like you did with
Mr. Hochstetler, the buggy maker in Indiana, you would get to know them and
they would become your friends and you would greet them by name each time you’d come to visit us. 
Ben misses you. Some nights he still cries when he’s had a
hard day and gets to thinking about Grandpa, wishing he could tell you all
about it and hear you say, “Cheer up, things could be worse.” I think you’d be
proud to see the young man he’s grown into. He loves Jesus, he loves people,
and he has a compassionate heart. I’m eager to see where the Lord leads him in
life. I hope God still lets you have little glimpses of our happiest moments
here on earth, because I know you’d get as much joy out of seeing him nearly all grown
up as you always got from spending time with him as a little boy. I’m so
thankful he holds your memory close.
Today I just want you to know how much we all miss you and
love you, Dad. Till we meet at Jesus’ feet…
