My grandfather only had a third grade education and knew little about the Bible when JWs called on him. But he was a different breed of JW than those of modern times. He truly cared about people and would give them the shirt off his back. He helped people out practically, sometimes giving people money, sometimes giving them vegetables he grew in his extensive garden, doing repairs to people’s homes, or anything he could do to help. And it wasn’t that he only helped JWs...he helped non-JWs too, and not just to try to convert them. My grandfather never shunned me--even when I made plain to him that I didn’t believe the Watchtower religion.
I do have hope that I will see my grandfather again one day and that he will be waiting for me.
However, the final days of his life were not peaceful. So long had he been under the spell of Watchtower theology, that as he was on his deathbed, Armageddon was going on all around him. He was genuinely terrified.
“It’s finally here,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m seeing it. It’s so terrible.”
In his mind, there were flames and destruction. Satan had taken him out the hospital bed to the airport and there he fought the Devil tooth and nail.
The end indeed did come for him, a personal Armageddon. I only wish it had been a less frightening parting.