Uncle John is Sleeping

Earlier this week we drove to Pittsburgh to attend my Great Uncle John's funeral. He was 86 years old when he passed away on the very day of his 63rd wedding anniversary. Both of my grandfathers died before I was born, so he was the closest thing to a grandfather I ever had. And since Uncle John and Aunt Rosine were never able to have children of their own, we really wanted to be there for Aunt Rosine, even though it was a long drive for three little boys. Just a couple days earlier our mechanic had told us not to take the Santa Fe for any long drives before we replaced a broken ball joint, so we decided to rent a minivan and ride together with Mimi and Papa. The novelty of riding in a different car definitely helped make the trip go more smoothly. The boys kept insisting that the van was ours and that we would not have to give it back, even though I warned them otherwise.

At the viewing, when the twins saw Uncle John lying peacefully in his casket, they were quick to announce to the whole room that "Uncle John is sleeping!" Joe took them outside during the ceremony, and then when they came back inside and found that the casket was missing, Joshua declared that "Uncle John woke up!" We had already explained to them that Uncle John died and went to Heaven to be with Jesus. "Is Uncle John in Heaven with George Washington?" asked Caleb. We confirmed that he was. "I want to die and go to Heaven and see George Washington and Uncle John," replied Caleb. We assured him that he would someday, but not for a very, very long time.

Uncle John was my Grandma's youngest brother, the last remaining of eight siblings who were born and raised as missionary kids in pre-Communist China. I will certainly miss hearing their memories about growing up in China and hearing them speak Chinese to each other. Not to belittle the sacrifices made by modern-day missionaries, but I can't even wrap my mind around the sacrifices my great-grandparents made when they transplanted themselves half-way around the world, without the internet or even the ability to make a phone call home to America, for over 50 years, all for the sake of spreading the good news of Jesus to an unreached people. It sure does make my life of raising twins plus one in the suburbs of DC seem pretty boring and inconsequential. But I guess there's always a possibility that I'm raising a future missionary or two, in which case I suppose I'll keep plugging along!