I got off to a really slow start today. Pregnancy insomnia kept me from sleeping well last night, so I dozed in the recliner well into late morning. Even after fully waking, I was pretty "blah." Apparently, it just wasn't my day. Daddy came home from football a little after noon and noticed my "offness" as well. I assured him I was fine, just tired. So, he had lunch and was off to track practice by 1:20pm. I decided I should probably get it together and have some breakfast/lunch. As I sat at the dining room table, nibbling on a grilled chicken wrap, updating the grocery list, and chatting with a friend on Facebook Messenger, I heard the motor of the garage door roar to life. It was only 1:40pm. Maybe Daddy forgot something? When he walked in the door, I asked him if everything was okay. He didn't look like everything was okay. He said something like, "Honey, try not to get too upset..." My mind started racing. What could I possibly get upset about? He's been gone 20 minutes. Did he wreck the truck? He's obviously not injured, so who cares about a vehicle? What else could be wrong? He came close, hugged me, and said "Your mom called me." Brain spinning. What? Why would she call him? "Your dad had a massive heart attack and died just after noon today." What? No. His health was so much better these last couple months. He's supposed to meet your baby sister Joslyn in a mere two weeks. He just celebrated his 50th wedding anniversary with Grandma. He offered to lay a new floor in Daddy's other house when he came to visit in August. No. He was feeling so good. No.
Yes. He's gone.
In Loving Memory of
Robert "Bob" Nockerts
February 10, 1937 - July 18, 2013
I burst into tears. Your Daddy held me. Immediately I began praying that he is now in heaven holding you tightly, making you giggle, and looking into your big blue eyes (he wanted so badly for you to open your eyes when he met you in March 2012.) But I can't be sure. Was he a believer? I think so, but he wasn't a man of too many words, so I honestly don't know for sure. I guess you would know, Bug. I wish I did...for both of your sakes.
Grandma Nockerts is all alone in South Texas and, because I'm 37 weeks pregnant with your Sissy, I can neither fly down to her nor drive the 17 hours to be with her. I can't even speak without crying, so calling her has been impossible. Every time I start to dial the number, the tears well up again. Daddy said she's worried about Joslyn and me because of the stress we are now likely feeling. She's a true Momma Bear, thinking about her kids before herself. Yet, I am worrying about her. I guess I get that from her.
I was finally able to call...the first thing she said was, "Are you okay?" Silly lady. I love her.
Daddy told me that Grandpa is going to be cremated and didn't want a funeral service. I'm never going to see him again in this life. I'm never going to talk Packers or Badgers football with him again or drink a Miller with him. I can't call him when I need help with a household project or advice on a major purchase. He's not going to be able to hold your sister (for what I hope is a VERY, VERY long time.) He'll never play cards or cribbage with Grandma, or have their daily red wine "heart medicine" at lunch any more. I talked to him last week. I told him I loved him. He did the same. I'm thankful that's the last thing we said to each other. But I'm so, so sad that it's the last time I'll talk to him on earth.
I hope you are getting to know your Grandpa well. He can be a little grumpy, but hopefully you'll learn to love that. He has a huge soft spot for little girls. I was his baby girl. His granddaughters have always meant a lot to him. You mean a lot to him. Go ahead and wrap him around your finger. He won't admit it, but he loves it!
Since you have been in heaven a while, you probably know your way around pretty well. Help him out. Take him to see Great Grandma Nockerts and show him where they keep the beer. He'll like that. Also, If you have any connections up there, we'd appreciate some help down here getting through this with some grace. Peace that passes all understanding would be a major blessing as well.
Give Grandpa a giant hug and a big, wet kiss for me. I love you both, Bug.
Love,
