Pennies From Above
My grandpa passed away on October 3, 2021. It was a really hard time for everyone. This amazing, strong man was now broken and weak. It was hard to believe that someone so sturdy, so solid, so always there, wasn’t here anymore.
I’ve wanted to share my letter—the reading I wrote about my grandpa—for a while, but I wasn’t sure when would be the right time. But how does anyone know when it’s a good time for anything after losing someone they love?
I’m sharing it now for two reasons. One, because I’m proud of what I wrote, and two, because it was an honor to learn more about my grandpa—and my grandma, for that matter—while representing my dad and aunt, two people I have so much respect for.
So here it goes.
A Well-Built Life
Psalms 1:3
“He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, which brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither, and whatever he does shall prosper.”
I’ve been told many different stories about our patriarch’s life growing up. Some parts are sad, some are hard to believe, and others I still don’t fully understand. But through it all, I came to one simple conclusion—he lived a well-built life.
My sister and I recently visited Wray. We had the pleasure of traveling down the same road Grandpa once walked to school. We saw the field where he once played football.
Vernon is a dusty little town, quiet and lonely now. But I can picture what it must have been to him—what it must have felt like. The pure freedom of running through those pastures that doubled as a football field! It gives me a sense of joy knowing that maybe, just maybe, he’s doing that right now.
William James Magruder started out on his own as a young boy. Just him and his dog. His background is a little confusing to me—he had many siblings, all half-siblings, and I believe they’ve all passed on now. He didn’t have much of a foundation to build from.
But he learned quickly how to survive and care for himself. He took on many jobs, learned different trades, and became a master of his craft. He was a distinguished and skilled builder—some would even say a carpenter of sorts.
Just look around this town, and you’ll see Grandpa’s craftsmanship everywhere. He laid brick, dug ditches, and built from the ground up. His spirit will live on in this town for generations. And I’m proud of that.
But his true masterpiece wasn’t just in the buildings he constructed. It was in the life he built.
Building a Foundation
He took his fractured foundation and repaired it. He chose a beautiful bride—not one picked for him, but one he chose.
Together, they decided to change the course of their lives, to do better, to build something stronger. They worked hard with dedication and conviction, and even through tough times, they never let up. Their sacrifice and diligence to create a better family, a solid foundation, are evident to this very day.
They raised three children in a tiny camper, taking any job they could to make ends meet. That camper was their home. It was a tiny Christmas tree during the holidays, it was Granny Magruder’s sugar cookies and pulled taffy, it was family dinners with homemade bread and schoolwork. It was a living room that doubled as a bedroom.
Although it was small, it was home. It was love.
As Grandma told me in June, she loved that camper. Because even though it was humble, it was theirs. It was better than what either she or Grandpa had growing up, because this time, they were building something to hold onto.
A family.
They bought land and started digging. Over time, between multiple jobs, they finally moved into a tiny 1918 house—just 16×32 feet. But Grandpa built onto it, dug out a basement, and made it their home.
And then, before you knew it—there were horses, cows, pigs, goats, chickens, and barns! Life was busy and hard. There were early mornings before the sun, long days in the heat, and freezing cold nights in feet of snow. There were school functions, football games, wrestling matches, and endless chores.
The work never stopped. There were no sick days.
But that was their way of life—hard work, resourcefulness, everyone pitching in.
A Well-Deserved Rest
I’d like to think that after all these years of work, Grandpa is resting now. Sitting at the river’s edge with a fishing pole in hand or enjoying one of his favorite Western novels.
Maybe he’s riding his motorcycle through the Black Hills of South Dakota.
He didn’t tell many stories about vacations or fishing trips, but I know he loved those things. So maybe now, he gets to do them as much as he wants.
Maybe he’s young and fast again, running on a football field. Maybe he’s reliving his favorite moments. He hops on his Goldwing motorcycle with Grandma on the back. Frank and Shirley Smith are by their side, touring the countryside.
Tennessee to Arkansas. The Ozarks to Wyoming. Yellowstone to the Rocky Mountains. Sturgis every summer.
Maybe Heaven is all of it.
Whatever it is, I know he’s at peace now.
The Builder
Grandpa was a builder. He built homes and businesses, and his craftsmanship will remain forever.
But he built so much more than that.
He built a marriage. He built three children who became incredible people. He built a family—brick by brick, stone by stone. He carved into us life lessons, humor, work ethic, character, and dedication.
He was a husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, friend, protector, and goat wrangler. And I’m sure each of us could add to that list.
My dad always told me I had it easier than he did growing up, and there’s no doubt I did. But one thing we share is knowing that someone always had our back.
Grandpa taught that. He was the protector, the one standing in the gap. He wasn’t just building a family—he was correcting the cracks in his own childhood so that future generations could stand on a solid foundation.
Pennies From Above
Since Grandpa passed, I thought I might dream about him, like I did with my cousin when she passed. But the dreams didn’t come. And that unsettled me.
Then, a week before we left for his funeral, I started finding pennies. Everywhere. In my truck. On my driveway. On my morning walks.
They were everywhere. Impossible to ignore.
Was it a sign? A message from above? From Grandpa?
I don’t know. But I do know I’ll be paying more attention when I find them now.
The past month has been stressful but also beautiful. So many blessings, so much heartbreak, exhaustion, careless words thrown my way. But I’ve shouldered it all because God prepared me for this.
He’s made me strong. He’s taught me my priorities.
And I’m grateful for the journey.
God is wise. He is always good. He keeps me humble, keeps me grateful, keeps me steady on this beautiful, sometimes uneasy path.
And I follow Him—faithfully.
God bless and keep you all.
SK–
- Table-Tossing Grace: My Season of Withdrawal and the Beauty of Eremition
- Filtering the Poison
- Confusion: The Chaos Strategist
- 5 Bible Verses to Remember: Gratitude, Forgiveness, Worthiness, Grace, and Peace
- Fixing the Hinges on the Gate | by fabricthatmademe
Leave a Reply