We love you, Daddio

Jonny's Dad, Jeffrey Rejholec, passed away on New Year's Eve. It was quite a shock and Jonny left for Durango as soon as we heard the news. It seems that Dad died in his sleep, probably from a heart attack. Alone in bed that night, thinking about Dad and Jonny and hearing all the fireworks outside, I couldn't sleep. So I wrote this post.

Julia adores her Grandpa. She loves that he calls her "Sweet Pea" and thinks it is so special that she has a nick-name. We recently spent Thanksgiving with Dad. Julia and Gabe climbed all over him - playing with him and giving him countless hugs and kisses. Gabe has been talking about "Urango!" and "Gampa's house!" since.

I'm not sure how to tell Julia.* But she will wonder why Jonny is gone tomorrow morning and why Grandpa and Rudi aren't coming as planned so I think I'd better let her know. This will be her first time dealing with death. How thankful I am she already has a basic understanding of the Plan of Salvation. She prayed on Christmas Eve about Jesus being born on Christmas and resurrected on Easter. And she's been asking me a lot of questions about what it means to die and what it meant when Jesus came alive again. She was crying a few weeks ago because she wanted to see Jesus. Her understanding is limited, but she knows we have a loving Heavenly Father and a Savior. So is mine, and so do I.

I loved Daddio. It felt easy to call him that after Jonny and I were married. He loved his kids. He was always talking about his kids to me. He worried about them and wanted the best for them. He told me stories of their childhoods and his. After Thanksgiving he and Rudi came up for a weekend so Rudi could interview for a job in Provo. He and I talked in the kitchen for a few hours while Gabe slept and Rudi played with Julia. He talked of a trip out East he was planning to take in the Spring. He was really looking forward to visiting his siblings and seeing his childhood home - Nayak, New York. He told me how different a world it was back then. You knew all your neighbors and they knew you. The world was small. He missed it.

And we will miss Dad. We'll miss his big hugs and his old jokes. We'll miss his Czech expressions. We'll miss his stories of being a cop. We'll miss seeing the renovations he'd been doing on the 100-year-old house. We'll miss his teasing that I call his son "Jonny" instead of "a good, strong name: Jon." We'll miss his sporadic singing and Donald Duck voice.We'll miss his phone calls and Christmas cards. And every Thanksgiving we'll still have a bowl of Sauerkraut on the table to go with the potato dumplings - even if I am the only one that eats it now that Dad is gone. (He was proud that I knew what was good. You better believe it.)

Goodbye, Daddio. We love you and know we will see you again before too long. Instead of driving through those nostalgic neighborhoods as planned, you're now being embraced by your mom and dad. I'd say that's a better deal anyway. Tell them we say hi. Can't wait to be with you all again soon.

  

  

 

 

*Julia took the news much better than I had expected (or feared). She doesn't understand that he is really gone yet, and that may hit a little harder when we go to his house and the funeral this weekend. But she has been very sweet to pray about Grandpa in her prayers and draw pictures of him. It will be a sad thing for her to grow up only having known her Grandpa for a few years. But those have been happy years for her. We will try to keep his memory alive for Julia and all of our kids in pictures and stories. Thankfully we have plenty of those.