I have fond memories of the little red Datsun truck daddy drove. Evan and I have been looking for a used truck to buy--for all the reasons trucks are good to have. Driving to a friend's house for lunch, I saw a red truck that looked like exactly what we wanted. I felt a little surge of joyful energy and said, out loud, "Thank you, daddy."  On the way home I stopped to call Evan and tell him about the truck.I used FaceTime to show it to him. It was, indeed, exactly what we wanted. It had a manual transmission, but...oh well, I could learn to drive it (she says, hopefully.)   Fast forward. We bought the truck. Now it was time to name it. I liked the idea of naming it after my dad, but in a playful way. He didn't like being called Herbie, but good friends were allowed to do so...specifically our next door neighbor, Dave Arnett.  

I was driving to a local antique store/barn to look for a table for our new catio (screened-in patio for cats) and thinking about our truck and its name. I said, "Daddy, if it's okay to name our truck Herbie, please send me a sign."  I wandered around at the antiques barn and found a wonderful wrought iron table for the catio. I decided to make one more loop around the place and walked outside, around the back of the building. As I was doing so, a man was unloading a table and chairs from the back of his truck. The table and chairs had a hummingbird motif. My eyes misted over. The hummingbird is the sign daddy sent right after he died, when I was feeling the deep sadness of separation and loss...hoping he was somewhere but knowing he was no longer here with us. Good sign, daddy. Great sign. The hummingbird table and chairs look great on our lower deck. My first stick shift driving lesson went well. I'm confident that I'll get the hang of it because I have the best co-pilot, ever. Thank you, daddy. 

I hope Grandpa brought his fishing rod,

His hat, some bait to lure a cod.

For Heaven without fishing

Would leave Grandpa wishing

That he’d been sent to somewhere else.

God, if you don’t mind

Sending him back would be just fine.

I promise this time 

I’ll listen closely to his stories

Perhaps write down his memories.

I swear I’ll go fishing with him,

Because, with Grandpa, I’ve never been.

Grandpa, if you’d let me

I’d cry you an ocean, wait and see

And all my memories

Could be the fish.

So whenever you wish

Throw a line out to sea

And you’ll catch reminders of you and me.


By: Juliana Judge 

Jesus has removed the sting of death (Cor. 15:55).Now we too have victory by believing in the Son of God's death and resurrection for us. Through Jesus'
perfect work, we can beat death---for good! 

We owed a debt we  couldn't pay;
Jesus paid a debt He didn't owe.

Rest in peace, Herb, rest in peace.. 

Love, Louise