"Mac"

Last week, my maternal grandfather went to be with the Lord. One thing
is for sure, he was ready. The report from the hospice room is that when
he knew it was his time to go, he would wake up every 30 minutes or so,
one time exclaiming "what am I still doing here!?" and another "let's
get this show on the road!" He was ready for his time with the Lord, in
a better place, with a whole body.

As we drove from the funeral home to the gravesite, a significant
percentage of the cars traveling in the opposite direction pulled off to
the side of the road out of respect for the procession. I don't know how
common this practice still is in this day's age, but it definitely
remains in good ole Savannah.

Angela remarked that from the day she first met him, she knew he loved
her as if she were his own grandchild. Grandaddy Mac was a family man,
and even those who were "transplanted" into the family were deeply loved
by him. And we all loved him dearly.

For a brief summary of what Grandaddy Mac meant to us, click here. For pictures from our time together as a family, click here.