Family Disturbance

First of all, my grandfather is awesome.

He's just a really great man. He's one of the most religious and pious men I have ever known. He's one of the most respected figures in my family and one who's opinion--although sometimes not agreed with--is highly respected. He was born soon after World War I, lived through the depression, fought in World War II, started a family, contributed to the Baby Boom, taught numerous years of high school social studies and sunday school, became the proud father of three and grandfather of six, saw a new millenium, saw the passing of his wife, the graduation of three of his grandchildren from high school, the destruction of a house he built with his own hands, and so many more things. He has lived an extraordinary life and is still living even after eighty-six years.

But something has started to bug me recently.

It's not something I thought I would have noticed. It's such a small minute detail...but it bugs me...and I don't know what to do about it.

My grandmother, his wife, died in early 2003 and he has since been in a sort of depression, which is understandable...they had been together for over sixty years. Sixty years of waking up in the same bed, living in the same house, sharing thoughts, becoming practically one person--when grandmother died, it was like a part of him died. But my grandfather continued to love his Heavenly Father and be faithful to the Bridegroom of Christ.

Following the years after my grandmother's death, my grandfather continued into depression and we didn't think he could stay at his house alone anymore. He went to go live with his daughter and her family, who would take care of him. He became more and more sickly both with actual medical problems and some problems that he convinced himself he had and probably--through the incredible power of the brain--might have actually given himself.

I probably didn't notice the small change until maybe about two or three years ago. My grandfather would often pray over family meals when we were there. He began the prayer practically every time with the same sentence without variation. It's a phrase that I've heard so much I probably will remember until I die.

Heavenly Father, we thank you again for this day and for thy love and mercy.

My grandfather uttered this phrase tens of thousands of times in his life, without fail. But a few years ago he began to say "Heavenly Father, we thank you again for this day and for thy love." and that was it. The first time I caught it I looked up to see if maybe he was choking or something had prevented him from saying the next two words I was so accustomed to hearing.

But he just kept going.

He kept going with the rest of the prayer over the meal and I was confused. OK, so maybe once in his lifetime he forgot to put those two words in his prayer. The guy does it all the time, there's bound to be some variation that I just had never noticed.

But it continued. It continued every time that I have ever heard the man pray since. It continued and every time the prayer was uttured across his tight pursed lips I would feel this emptiness...this anticipation...for this line that would never come. It's as if someone had sung the entire National Anthem and ended "Oh say does that Star Spangled Banner yet wave, o'er the land of the free." and ended right there not even acknowledgeing that we are the home of the brave. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

And then I think I realized it. This man no longer thinks that God is merciful. He has had such a horrible time these past few years and felt so depressed and sickly and so he no longer feels the need or desire to thank the Lord our God for his mercy that my grandfather no longer sees.

I was floored.

This man who helped raise his children with incredible moral and ethical values based upon the teachings of Jesus Christ, this man who--every sunday--would teach a sunday school class on different parts of the Bible for decades, this man who baptized me, this man who has been the patriarch and cornerstone of our family no longer believes that God is merciful.

It really saddens me...it's a big blow.

And I don't know what I can do about it.