On Tuesday, my Dad and I officiated my grandfather’s funeral. Here are the words I shared.
From the time I was a young child, I would spend about a month each summer with each set of grandparents. First by myself and then when Becky was old enough she would join me. I treasure these memories. While on the farm with Grandpa and Grandma, the weather and crops would set the course of our time. There’d be cats and a dog to feed and play with, fresh food from the garden to eat and can or freeze, drinks to take to Grandpa while he worked in the field. And fireworks, homemade ice cream, visits from or to family, and many games of cards!
As I grew older, the visits got shorter and we relied on phone calls and letter writing. One phone call Grandpa asked me to write him a letter and send it, so I did. Next time I called, he said, “You call that a letter? That was too short. It was really just a card.” So I began working on a letter long enough to please him.
Our phone conversations always covered the same topics. First, family. How are your Mom and Dad? They don’t call or visit often enough. How is your sister, Jon, Ella, Reid? Your sister should call me and bring the kids to visit. How are you and your husband? Why do you live so far away? When are you moving back here? And why don’t you call more often and come visit? Topic number 2 was always the weather. In the growing season, topic number 3 was crops. How everything was growing in Iowa and how the crops looked where I lived. He loved hearing about cotton and tobacco when I lived in North Carolina and how people go crabbing and grow corn here in Maryland. Our final topic would always be my car. When I was in college, Grandpa and Grandma loaned me money to buy my first car, so you know it was a Ford. Somehow I had a Chevy after that which we won’t even talk about. In 2005, I bought a Honda Accord-which Grandpa called one of those foreign cars. Each call I’d have to report on how long I’ve had the car, how many miles it has on it, and how much longer I’m keeping it. So Grandpa, here is your final car report. It’s been more than 13.5 years. I rolled 267,000 miles last week, and I’m keeping it until she leaves me stranded on the side of the road and then, yes, I’ll call AAA.
The Lord is my shepherd.
Grandpa’s faith ordered his life. Sundays were a day of rest and church and if not church a visit to family. Animals were fed on Sunday and no other work was done on the Sabbath.
I shall not want.
Grandpa (and Grandma) were frugal. First out of necessity and then because it was just them. They used to pay Becky and me one penny for each nail and piece of metal we picked up from the driveway and machine shop. We had to count out each piece and report to Grandma who would pay us in pennies and nickels what we reported. Last night I learned that they paid Mom one penny per piece when she was kid. No inflation in this task. When we would go to McDonald’s, we could order anything we wanted from dollar menu except soda. That was overpriced and there was a cooler with drinks in the car. And Grandpa knew which McDonald’s served the biggest ice cream cone and that was where we’d always stop to get the most for our money.
He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.
Grandpa was a farmer. He loved the land. He loved the animals. He loved the life. When he slowed down and eventually sold the farm, he loved to talk about farming. He was a good farmer.
He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
No memory of Grandpa’s life is complete without talking about Grandma. Almost 70 years of marriage. They were a team. I remember asking Grandpa a question, and he’d say “Ask the boss”. I think they both took turns being the boss. They were both stubborn and both set in their ways. And they built a wonderful life and legacy together.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me. Your rod and your staff they comfort me.
Grandpa knew more than his share of heartache. He buried three children. He outlived all of his siblings. And his wife died days before their 70th anniversary. His heart had been broken many times. At times it made him bitter and angry. And he kept going in spite of all this loss.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows.
Grandpa knew the importance of family. He would visit us and the rest of the family often. I’ve heard stories about trips taken with his siblings and he loved the family reunion. He would say that fish and relatives start to smell after three days, so the trips were always short. And yet, he always made time for family.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.
When Grandpa discovered tractor pulling, it was all he could talk about. I loved watching him pull because his face would light up like a child. It brought him so much joy. And that I hope can continue to be his legacy. I hope I and you can think less about what an ornery, son of a gun he could be and instead remember what brought him joy-family, hard work, ice cream, pulling the Gopher, a long marriage, shooting the moon and bidding on his partner’s hand in pitch, his dogs-let these be his legacy as he dwells in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.
