THE DEATH OF A HERO

It's hard enough to have a stranger who's a hero die, but my granddaughter Lindsey's grandpa, who was her hero, died.
Lindsey came to see her grandpa often when he was sick, mostly after school.
When the time came that he could no longer talk because of a malignant tumor on his vocal cords which joined the other tumors in his body to destroy his life, she would just come and sit with Grandpa, just sit in the infirmary room on the love seat. Hospice had turned the den adjoining our bedroom into an infirmary room with a hospital bed, a trapeze bar for use when He was strong enough to help pull himself higher in the bed, an oxygen machine and all the other wonderful things that Hospice provides to ease the last days of the terminally ill.
A day or two before Grandpa died, after just sitting in the room with him, when she decided to leave she told him she loved him, which was her usual parting words. He waved a slight wave of his hand in goodbye to her.
It was a horrible day when Lindsey's dad had to tell her that Grandpa had died that day. She grieved and grieved, even more than she, her brother Jesse and I had grieved together a week before, after both of them had sat with Grandpa in silence for thirty minutes. He was their athletic hero as well as their adoring Grandpa. When they came out of the room shaking with sobs, I also lost my usual composure and sobbed right along with them. It was a sad, sad time for all of us.
Lindsey didn't come to the house for a couple of days after Grandpa died. It was impossible for her to come to the house where she knew he had drawn his last breath.
A few day after his death I got a phone call. It was Lindsey. She had a lilt in her usually sunshiny voice which I had not heard in a while. She said, "MeMe, can I come over? I have something to tell you."
"Of course," I told her, "you can come over." I needed to have her "always walking on the sunny side of the street," demeanor around me. I was intrigued because I knew how grieved she was at the death of her hero.
I watched for her silver pickup to drive into the driveway. Then I watched to see what her gait was like when she exited her truck. It was light and jolly-like, almost skipping.
She rushed in the door and said, "MeMe, I had a dream about Grandpa last night. In the dream I came to your house and you weren't here but Grandpa was here. He looked just like he did when he was healthy. He said to me, 'I'm fine, Lindsey. I'm so happy.'"
She continued her joyful rendition of her dream by telling me that the dream took all of the grief away from her. She said that she sees him in her mind now as the tall, handsome, athletic gramps that he always was.
I cried tears of joy and she cried tears of joy. Then we rejoiced together that God is so loving to give her that wonderful dream, one that chased away grief and gave her the hope of Grandpa being healthy and happy in heaven. God knew that she needed that vision of her hero being healthy and whole again.
God said he would comfort the broken hearted. He did it for Lindsey like He has done for me.
Thank you, My Heavenly Hero, for giving my granddaughter Lindsey a happy dream about her hero, her Grandpa Steve. It changed her grief into gladness.
That's the promise God gave, that he would turn our mourning into gladness. Lindsey's dream is proof that He keeps His promises and that He cares about a granddaughter who has lost her hero.
My Heavenly Hero is taking care of Lindsey and Jesse's hero who lives with Him now. That's a good Father.