The world lost a great man yesterday; an American hero. My Grandpa Buz passed away. He was a decorated soldier; a WWII fighter pilot and POW. After the military, he went on to spend the next thirty years as a LA fire fighter. He decided to spend his retirement as a security guard. The man didn't steer away from risky jobs. While he most definitely had a decorated past, he's always just been my Grandpa Buz.
I have fond memories of my grandfather. He was actively involved in my life. I would go to their house often having tea parties on their stairs and playing in their pool. My grandpa would let me climb on his shoulders in order to flip off of them into the pool over and over again. I am sure I completely wore him out, but he never showed it. He was always there to support me and I always always knew he loved me.
Grandpa Buz was a humble man. He had incredible stories about his past that he would tell with such grace. He was proud of his service but their was always a sense of humility with him. Years ago, he wrote a book chronicling his life. I am so thankful to have his stories written down. I remember when we found out we were having our third boy. We were deciding on names knowing his middle name had to be a family name. Jackson has a Fish middle name and Grady has a Peterson middle name. I knew I wanted to name Wyatt after my grandpa. There's a legacy there that I wanted to live on. My grandpa's first name is Claire and I just couldn't name him that. I think I always knew Wyatt's middle name would be Buz, but I had to ask permission first.
I will never forget the phone call. After I told my grandpa that I wanted to name Wyatt after him, he responded, "Now make sure it is Buz with one "z" not two. He was adamant that I got that right. And he was proud. So very proud. Every time from that moment forward we talked about Wyatt. He wanted to know all about him. He would go on and on about how his namesake lived on in my son. It was so cool and one of my favorite memories of him. He told everyone about this little grandson of his that was named after him.
The name Buz has a cool backstory. My grandpa's last name is Buskirk. He gained the nickname, "Buz," while in the military. I have always known my grandpa as Grandpa Buz. I just love that.
I text some girlfriends of mine yesterday to let them know he had passed away. My grandparents were such an integral part of my life that my friends all knew and loved them. One of my friends poured this Scripture over me:
'His master said to him, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master." Matthew 25:23
Death used to make me so sad. I used to bawl my eyes out anytime there was a death whether that be someone I knew, someone who died in a book or movie, or even an animal dying in a movie. I would cry like a baby. As I got older, death became something to fear for me. Something about death scared me after having kids. The thought of losing one of them or them suffering because they lost Scott or I absolutely paralyzed me. Now, however, I have this weird sense of peace when it comes to death. I didn't cry when I got the news about my grandpa. He had lived a good good life and I have countless memories of him that are oh-so-precious. Instead, I rest in him entering the joy of the master. Man, what an incredible gift!
Death isn't sad or something to be feared. Death is full of hope and promise. Yes, we who are left behind mourn the loss of the one we loved. We mourn their absence and our lives will never be the same. But, there is so much hope in death when we have Jesus. Hope of an eternity with our Savior living in perfect peace. I can rest in the hope of Jesus now.
Last night when I put the boys to bed, I felt time stand still. I kissed Grady on the cheek and gave him a few extra hugs and then it was Wyatt's turn. I gave him a smooch and a hug. As I pulled away from the hug I looked him square in the eyes. It was as if I saw my Grandpa Buz in that moment. I completely felt his presence as I looked into the eyes of his legacy. My grandpa may have left this earth but he lives on. He is here in my life, the life of my sister, my mom, my aunt, my cousin, and the beautiful lives of my sons: especially that little spunky one, Wyatt Buz.
I will never forget you, grandpa. You had a great impact on my life. More than you will ever know. I pray that we live out your legacy with loyalty, humility, and grace just as you did. Well done, good and faithful servant.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
I have fond memories of my grandfather. He was actively involved in my life. I would go to their house often having tea parties on their stairs and playing in their pool. My grandpa would let me climb on his shoulders in order to flip off of them into the pool over and over again. I am sure I completely wore him out, but he never showed it. He was always there to support me and I always always knew he loved me.
Grandpa Buz was a humble man. He had incredible stories about his past that he would tell with such grace. He was proud of his service but their was always a sense of humility with him. Years ago, he wrote a book chronicling his life. I am so thankful to have his stories written down. I remember when we found out we were having our third boy. We were deciding on names knowing his middle name had to be a family name. Jackson has a Fish middle name and Grady has a Peterson middle name. I knew I wanted to name Wyatt after my grandpa. There's a legacy there that I wanted to live on. My grandpa's first name is Claire and I just couldn't name him that. I think I always knew Wyatt's middle name would be Buz, but I had to ask permission first.
I will never forget the phone call. After I told my grandpa that I wanted to name Wyatt after him, he responded, "Now make sure it is Buz with one "z" not two. He was adamant that I got that right. And he was proud. So very proud. Every time from that moment forward we talked about Wyatt. He wanted to know all about him. He would go on and on about how his namesake lived on in my son. It was so cool and one of my favorite memories of him. He told everyone about this little grandson of his that was named after him.
The name Buz has a cool backstory. My grandpa's last name is Buskirk. He gained the nickname, "Buz," while in the military. I have always known my grandpa as Grandpa Buz. I just love that.
I text some girlfriends of mine yesterday to let them know he had passed away. My grandparents were such an integral part of my life that my friends all knew and loved them. One of my friends poured this Scripture over me:
'His master said to him, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master." Matthew 25:23
Death used to make me so sad. I used to bawl my eyes out anytime there was a death whether that be someone I knew, someone who died in a book or movie, or even an animal dying in a movie. I would cry like a baby. As I got older, death became something to fear for me. Something about death scared me after having kids. The thought of losing one of them or them suffering because they lost Scott or I absolutely paralyzed me. Now, however, I have this weird sense of peace when it comes to death. I didn't cry when I got the news about my grandpa. He had lived a good good life and I have countless memories of him that are oh-so-precious. Instead, I rest in him entering the joy of the master. Man, what an incredible gift!
Death isn't sad or something to be feared. Death is full of hope and promise. Yes, we who are left behind mourn the loss of the one we loved. We mourn their absence and our lives will never be the same. But, there is so much hope in death when we have Jesus. Hope of an eternity with our Savior living in perfect peace. I can rest in the hope of Jesus now.
Last night when I put the boys to bed, I felt time stand still. I kissed Grady on the cheek and gave him a few extra hugs and then it was Wyatt's turn. I gave him a smooch and a hug. As I pulled away from the hug I looked him square in the eyes. It was as if I saw my Grandpa Buz in that moment. I completely felt his presence as I looked into the eyes of his legacy. My grandpa may have left this earth but he lives on. He is here in my life, the life of my sister, my mom, my aunt, my cousin, and the beautiful lives of my sons: especially that little spunky one, Wyatt Buz.
I will never forget you, grandpa. You had a great impact on my life. More than you will ever know. I pray that we live out your legacy with loyalty, humility, and grace just as you did. Well done, good and faithful servant.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
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