For Papa

“There is no better teacher than a grandfather (Christmas with the Queen by Hazel Gaynor and Heather Webb).” This profound and timely quote ironically found me just a few days after the passing of my own grandfather. Maybe those words would have always impacted me. Maybe I would have heard them and immediately acknowledged the wondrous gift that I had in the form of my Papa. Maybe I would have picked up the phone and told him all the things he had taught me, or written him a card, or sent a quick text. But on this day, none of those options were possible. On this day, when the words came flowing through my car speakers as I listened to my audiobook, a bittersweet sadness filled my heart as I reflected on the recent loss of the man who had been so many things–husband, father, friend, and Papa–to so many of us. And as I began to piece together memories and look through photographs, I agreed—there is no better teacher than a grandfather. Mike Kent Sr. was special to me because he was my Papa, but beyond that, his life exhibited many enduring lessons of which we could all be students. I’d like to share a few of those treasured insights–a few of those timeless things I learned from my grandfather.

The Lesson of Wonder: When I was a little girl, Papa taught me to appreciate the wonder and beauty of life, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. It was always a highlight to visit Papa’s house, where we could have adventures in his woods, follow along the path of the creek, discover untold treasures in the basement, and enjoy the serenity of the front porch until the last minutes of daylight faded away. Sometimes we would catch lightning bugs and watch them turn to money the next day. Other times, we would jump on the trampoline, build forts, or see what Papa was up to in his yard. There is one memory, however, that stands out to me above the rest about Papa from those early years in my life, and that is the memory of going to the Christmas tree farm. Like clockwork, on the Friday after Thanksgiving that I was at his house, Papa would pile us up in his vehicle and drive us to a tree farm nearby. We would wander the rows in search for the perfect tree that he had no doubt already picked out without our help. Some years the weather was brisk and cold as we searched high and low, while others it was warm and sunny. Some years, there would be cider and hayrides or a big inflatable snowman or candy canes waiting for us at checkout. But the thing that remained the same was always the feeling I got from being with Papa and helping him pick out his prized tree. I cherished those times and even begged Papa to take us there still when I got older, because even though I could buy my own tree at that point, there was something magical about going with him. It was through expeditions like the tree farm and hours spent in his woods that I learned to value memories, appreciate nature, and look for the wonder around me.

The Lesson of Growth and Adaptability: As I grew a little older, Papa taught me what it looked like to stay relevant in a changing world. He was my unsung technology hero, who, in my eyes, always had the answer to any question I brought him. Working as a Delta programmer for many years, he was not afraid to try new things, explore fresh trends, and learn the latest gadgets on the market. As I stepped into the tech-heavy years of adolescence and young adulthood, he stepped right along with me. From helping me set up my first email address to talking shop about computers and flights, and the latest tech, to looking over my taxes, Papa was my go-to man. He even gave me my first cell phone, which rang in a box under the Christmas tree, and helped me take to the open road by selling me my first car! It seemed like there wasn't anything that Papa didn’t know how to do, and his receptiveness to being willing to grow and adapt has marked me and encouraged me to also not be afraid to try new things in an ever-changing world.

The Lesson of Humility, Servanthood, and Faith: Not only was Papa fun and tech savvy, but he also taught us how to have a servant’s heart by the way he cared for those around him. I can picture many school events throughout the years where Papa was in the audience, cheering me on. Whether it was a short presentation, a church play, an award I was receiving, or a graduation ceremony, Papa was there for all of them. He and Mrs. Jackie not only came for special events and holidays, but they also crossed state lines many years to come and celebrate my birthday with me. Papa also lovingly helped me in many practical ways, like assisting my parents with paying for my braces or helping out to get me a new mattress when I needed one. And while he showed up and gave to me specifically, I know his willingness to give of himself didn’t stop there. He loved the Lord deeply, reflecting the love of Christ as he faithfully served the church, his family, his friends, and my grandmother for many years of his life. He exemplified being a servant and was a key spiritual influence for my mom, who, in turn, modeled what chasing after the Lord looked like to me. Papa sowed seeds of faith that have spanned generations not only in his family but in the many lives he touched.

The Lesson of Adventure: It’s no secret to anyone who knew my grandfather that he loved to explore the world around us, and thankfully, I was fortunate enough to accompany him on more than a few of those adventures. I remember getting temporarily lost in the mountains of Tennessee with him because we somehow couldn’t find our way out and kept driving in circles. I remember watching him brave freezing temperatures one January at the beach on New Year’s Day for about ten minutes before retreating back inside. I saw tropical islands, historical landmarks, and international architecture, all with Papa by my side. He took me to Williamsburg and Jamestown, where I surprised him as a middle schooler by ordering and finishing every bite of a twelve-ounce steak. That trip was also the one and only time I ever had a single peg left standing in that cracker barrel game on the table while you wait for your food. Papa had missed my triumph, and when he came back to the table, he wasn’t sure if he believed I had done it and enjoyed teasing me about it.  In later years, we went on several cruises together, all enjoyable, but there are two in particular that mean a lot to me–Italy and Canada. I love the line in the movie While You Were Sleeping where Lucy says, “he gave me the world.” In a sense, that’s exactly what that graduation trip to Italy with Mrs. Jackie and Papa felt like for me. I’ll never forget climbing around a crater, strolling down Italian streets with gelato in hand, and seeing the Colosseum and the Leaning Tower of Pisa with Papa! That trip to Italy stirred a hunger in me to travel abroad and experience other cultures, which in turn led to many mission opportunities over the years. I don’t know that I ever told him this, but part of my willingness to say yes to where the Lord has led me started with those early family trips. They gave me the confidence to spread my wings and fly to places all over the world.

Like with the Italy trip, Canada was another opportunity to go on an adventure with just Mrs. Jackie and Papa all to myself.  It came about in a whirlwind way, and I almost didn’t go because of work, but looking back, I’m so glad I did because it would turn out to be the last trip I ever took with Papa. We had such a good time as we pretended to throw tea in the Boston Harbor, glimpsed beautiful New England scenery, had wonderful dinner conversations, and fulfilled one of my childhood dreams of seeing Prince Edward Island, which is home to Anne of Green Gables.

I don't think I ever specifically asked Papa why he liked to travel, but I think it’s because he knew that whether you were just a few hours away or many miles across the ocean, having a spirit of adventure both enriched your life and broadened your world in new ways. I’ll forever be grateful that he shared his spirit of adventure with me and that he helped me go further than I ever could have on my own.

The Lesson of Laughter: Another trademark of Papa was his half-smile we often called Papa’s smirk. Too many times it came when he was trying not to laugh, but couldn’t quite stop himself from a twinge of humor on his lips, which of course made all of us laugh. As amusing as it was to catch him in a smirk, I reveled even more in making Papa laugh out loud. He was one of the people in my life who truly saw me, understood my humor, and allowed me to just be me. I would often tell him stories from the library or whatever else was going on in my life and be rewarded with a chuckle. We also shared more than a few of those stories that make you laugh every time you reminisce about them. My entire family still remembers with glee the time Papa rented what we call the infamous “van” on one of our trips. It came at a cheap price and a great cost, as every time we went up or down a hill, it broke down. We attempted to see the sights for a couple of hours before finally deciding we had had enough and turning it back in. It was probably the worst vehicle Papa ever drove in his life, but for years, it has provided more laughter than we could have known. I also fondly remember the time Papa was taking my picture in front of the Colosseum in Rome and fell into a hole filled with water. For the next hour, his pant legs were soaked, but victory was his as he still managed to capture the photo! Papa also had an unfortunate streak of breaking Mom’s nice glassware every time he visited for a while, and he ended up having to use plastic instead, which gave us all a good laugh, including Papa. He had a way of finding the humor in things, and even though he is often thought of as a man of quiet strength and dependability, he was never too far from an amused smirk taking over his features.

The Lesson of Being Present: As the years went by and I found myself getting older and older, Papa became a voice of encouragement and wisdom. He took an interest in whatever I was doing, whether that was photography, traveling, writing, or just trying to figure life out. Papa read each and every one of my blog posts and often commented that I should take my best ones and turn them into a book. We would have chats about things in life, about what missionary trip I would be taking that year, and what was going on at work. We bonded over being picky (me much more than him) and would often dream together about what our perfect holiday meal would be if just the two of us could say. He continued to make a point to come and visit us and even came to see us as recently as a few months ago, where we all had breakfast at one of his favorites—Cracker Barrel. True to his nature, one of the last conversations he had with my mom was about how he wanted everyone to come this year for the holidays because, at the end of the day, family is what mattered to him. If there is one thing he would want to remind us of now, I think it would be to make the most of your time, to show up, and to be intentional with your loved ones because you never know when it will be someone’s last day on earth.

I can picture my last moment with him, that last hug as we left for Alabama a few months ago. I wish I had known then that it would be the last one because I would have held on just a little longer. And I would have told him that he really was a great teacher and an even better grandfather. I would have thanked him for the way he loved me and cared for me and helped me become the person I am today. I hope by sharing a little bit of what he meant to me and the memories we shared have encouraged you to take hold of the things that matter the most in life–things like a deep faith in Jesus, child-like wonder, genuine humility, the willingness to welcome growth and change, an adventurous spirit, the gift of laughter, and the power of intentionality and family. He modeled these things well and left them as a legacy not only to me but to all of you. It feels too soon to say goodbye for those of us left behind, but I know he is no longer weary and can be assured that he is in a much better place. I can’t help but smile as I picture him sitting in Heaven with those who have gone before him. Maybe just maybe he is sipping a glass of heavenly sweet tea on the front porch of a mansion. And maybe it is even a real glass. Here’s to you, Papa. We miss you and love you.

-Only Hope