I lost my grandfather George Colton last month after he had battled for over two decades with the horrible effects of diabetes. He was 82 years old and had struggled with intense pain, as well as other ailments too numerous to count, for well over 15 years. His body had been ravaged by the disease that is a slow, silent killer which literally affects all aspects of the afflicted person’s health. There is almost NO aspect of the afflicted person’s health which is not affected by this horrible, ravaging disease. While I already miss him, I had the great fortune of being well into adulthood and being able to have many years with a man who was a giant role model to me and countless others.

George was not someone who was rich, famous, or someone who desired to be either. He wasn’t well-known for wild behavior, bad habits, or a bad attitude. He did not want to sue anyone and, to the best of my knowledge, no one wanted to sue him. He didn’t drink booze, chase women, or wreck cars, even in his younger days. He never appeared on TV, ran a Fortune 500 company, or ran for political office. He wasn’t mad at anyone and, to the best of my knowledge, no one was mad at him. He didn’t make crude jokes, put other people down, or make fun of people who lived differently than him. He wasn’t perfect and didn’t know all the answers, but didn’t pretend to be either of those either. He wasn’t arrogant, ignorant, or a liar, and was wise enough to choose his words carefully.

My grandfather was a giant because he was the kind of man who lived life exactly as it should be lived - openly, honestly, bravely, with Christian love and compassion for others without selfish ambition or motivation, without thought of receiving praise and adulation, and without ulterior motive. My grandfather was in love with one woman (not including his daughers, granddaughters and the like): my grandmother, and had been happily married to her for over 62 years when he passed. While his disease affected his ability to feel well and he had been in constant pain for years, he never failed to tell all of our family how he loved her so much he would marry her all over again and not change a single thing.

I write this about him because the world sorely needs more giants like George Edward Colton. While no one is perfect, many of us know of someone who has lived life in such a way that we would be honored if someone said we were half the person they had been. I had the pleasure of telling him that I loved him and that he meant so much to me before he passed. May we each take a moment to tell the George Colton’s in our life what they mean to us and then may we honor that person by living the type of life we know they would have wanted us to live.