It’s never good when you wake up to multiple missed calls from one person. When I saw I had two from my dad on Tuesday morning, I already knew what he was going to tell me before I swiped to call back.

My grandpa, Robert Pedley, had passed away in his sleep that night at the age of 94. Though his health had been declining in recent months, you can never truly steel yourself for the loss of a loved one who’s been there your whole life.

I’m not sad, though. My grandpa lived a long and fulfilling life. He never had it particularly easy, but he made the most out of everything. That’s something to celebrate, not something to mourn.

My grandpa grew up on a farm near Ocheyedan during the Great Depression. His father died in an accident when he was young, leaving him, his mother and his younger brother, Merle, to run the operation. I can’t fathom the responsibility he was buried under, yet he persevered.

He joined the Navy during World War II late in the war. He was stationed around the Philippines in the Pacific Theater, though I’m not sure a ship is ever technically “stationed.” He’d only offer minor tidbits about his experiences when I questioned him. A few times he told my dad everyone kept busy by building boxes because there was nothing else to do. My dad suspects those boxes were coffins for fallen soldiers, but we don’t know for sure.

Grandpa eventually returned to northwest Iowa and married the love of his life, my grandma Luella. They settled on a farm in Horton Township north of Ocheyedan and raised four children there. I still drive by once or twice a year.

I always loved visiting the farm as a kid. There was a grove for exploring, old outbuildings to climb in and plenty of tractor rides to enjoy. Grandpa’s ancient Chevy truck was a great time, too – sometimes my older sister would get to drive it, which was a thrill for 7-year-old me.

They retired and moved into town more than two decades ago. I have so many wonderful memories, whether it was going fishing, family gatherings or countless other precious moments. Grandparents leave special impressions on us that are hard to put into words. Right now, I’m having trouble grasping the loss.

My grandpa taught me to work hard, show respect and be kind to others. Everyone who knew him loved him. His demeanor came across as soft-spoken, but you listened when he spoke. He was someone you admired.

I’ll never forget his laugh. Usually whatever he was laughing about wasn’t as funny as he made it out to be, but if he was cracking up, everyone else was too. Oftentimes, he was laughing at himself.

Kaity and I live just a stone’s throw from my grandparents in Ocheyedan. I never get over there as much as I should, but it’s been nice to be that close. My kids always love taking a quick jaunt to Grandma Lue and Grandpa Bob’s place. I’m so happy they knew him.

Before he became too unstable to walk alone, my grandpa would often go for afternoon strolls down the sidewalk to keep his legs fresh. I’d watch from our living room – mostly to make sure he didn’t fall, but also just to see him. Slowly, he’d make his way towards our house; me following him window-by-window the entire way. I’d come outside for a quick chat when he got to our fence. The conversations were brief, but they meant a lot to me – it was just nice to visit with him.

I’ve missed those chats during the past year. Now, I’ll just be missing him.

I hope he was half as proud to call me his grandson as I was to call him my grandpa. He was one of a kind, and I was truly blessed to have him in my life for 30 years.

Nick Pedley is the news editor of The Hartley Sentinel/The Everly-Royal News.