Wednesday, August 24, 2016

The Heavenly Feast

“That looks almost good enough to eat!” Today I made homemade pasta raviolis. When I set them up on the plate the words of my grandfather rang in my ear; “Those look almost good enough to eat!” My grandfather would always say quirky little things that would leave me thinking; “What does that even mean!?” It doesn’t matter now, what matters to me now is that his words ring in my ear and remind me of the grandfather I had. 
He was a strong man! He built houses and what I remember most about his physical appearance was how rough the skin on his hands was; like leather. He was funny, and playful. He made us so many things in his workshop. He made bow and arrows, doll houses, wooden animals and treasure chests. I remember making stained glass angles with him once, he was always willing to entertain my ideas of making things together including jewelry. I remember the way he would eat carrots by hitting his jaw as if the carrot was too hard to just bite into. I remember grandma's response to grandpa when he would play with her; “Oh Herb” then she would chuckle like a character out of a 1950’s film. They loved each other and my heart breaks to think of her without him now.

My heart breaks thinking of my mother, and her siblings as they will burry their father.  

Death leaves us with nothing but memories. It’s hard for me to grasp and understand what this all means being so far away. I wont be able to go through the whole grieving process of letting go with my family but that is why I am so very thankful for one more wonderfully beautiful characteristic I remember above all the others when it comes to my grandpa; he loved his Lord. I see my grandfather in my aunts and uncles, and I see him in my cousins. While my grandfather may not be in this world he reminded us of truths and sayings much greater than his original quirky ones. More than his carpentry, more than his love for his family; my grandfather left a legacy, a legacy of faith in a God who promises that this is not the end. While I may not be able to be present for the funeral, I will pull out my hymnal and my Bible and cling to the one thing I know we will all be clinging to; a promise. Praise be to the God of the living and the life He gave through the waters of Holy Baptism to Herbert Heider. We love you, and we will see you again, but not before we see our Savior. 
John 11:24-26New King James Version (NKJV)
24 Martha said to Him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. 26 And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?”


  1. This is a response from my mother (daughter to Herbert Heider) I wanted it connected to the blog so I wouldn't loose it: You captured my Dad. The man who let his two-year-old daughter carry bricks to brick the house on 18th street in Grand Island. The man who made a covering out of thin, white cotton on Mom's sewing machine to go over my bandage on my right finger when it was injured in the meat grinder. The man who heated oil to put in the ear canal when the pain was so horrible in the middle of the night. The man who rubbed my twisted ankle in the middle of the night and then gave me an aspirin so I could sleep. The man who erected a wind mill in the side yard and then let me climb to the top and oil it. The man who was always there when I needed a house repaired or remodeled. The man who made sure the Heider kids had fun. The man I had the high privilege of nursing as he lay dying. The man I got to kiss even as God received his spirit to Himself. It was good while he lasted.

  2. Thank you, Katie. It was an honor to be with your mother during the night as Grandpa worked hard to go Home! The victory is his! God bless your remembrance of a servant-heart in your Grandpa.