My Grandpa: A Composer of Character and Grace

Yesterday, Pastor Birch did a wonderful job leading the memorial service for my grandpa. My uncle said it best when he shared with me that the best funerals are the ones that are about the person. I couldn't agree more. It is exactly how every funeral - a celebration of life - should be where both touching and funny stories are shared as well as the qualities and quirks that made them a unique individual. 

He was a great role model touching a lot of lives, which was made evident by the size of the gathering showing up to pay their last respects. 

Following is a tribute I wrote for my grandfather. I am very thankful to Pastor Birch for being willing to read it - and for reading it so well. I am touched by the kind words that some of you expressed to me, but I feel a greater sense of gratitude to you for coming and supporting our family. Whether you were local or flew or drove miles and miles, your heartfelt appreciation for my grandfather will not be forgotten.

I also want to thank Diane, Karen and Gayle, for their beautiful music as well as to those who shared stories and memories.

Here is my tribute:

Finding the words to describe a loved one that has passed and how profoundly they have affected my life is never easy. With each passing of a loved one, I reflect on how their lives were grandiose, vibrant, unique, meaningful and prevalent in their overflowing capacity of grace. A grace that was bestowed upon us with every greeting and goodbye and the fulfilled, unforgotten moments in between.

Grandpa was no different.

Twenty years ago, Linda Ellis wrote a poem called The Dash. Since then, I would like to think that most people spend more time reflecting on the small line that separates our earthly birth from our heavenly one. Until that poem was written, that small line encapsulating every hill and valley and triumph and defeat was not contemplated nearly enough. Few have composed such a magnificent life as Grandpa did. If the dash was a badge of honor, he earned it undeniably. If it were a badge representing how many he served with an attitude of grace and how those people were affected by his high standards of character, then he earned it without question.

When it came to a commitment of faith and family, Grandpa raised the bar. God and family were always, without hesitation, first. Just as importantly, it came easily. When church was in session, he'd be there. If there was a lesson to be learned, he'd teach it. When there was time to play ball with his grandsons, an opportunity to show off his fancy pitches – each one with the promise that it was unhittable – he would take it willingly.  If there was a sporting event, a birthday, or anything involving family, he was there. Usually right next to my dad.

Few have composed a magnificent life like Grandpa. He lived his dash with a contagious joy. Comforted by life around him whether birds at the feeder, or great-grandchildren climbing his walker, he enjoyed life like he lived it. To the fullest.

His most significant composition...well, it wouldn't take you long to figure it out if you were peering in through the window during the holidays. I think it's safe to say that his greatest love was his family. From his wife and children all the way down to his great-grandchildren. We are his opus.

Grandpa took every note the Good Lord gave him and composed a symphonic masterpiece. We, the orchestra of instruments, each unique in style, shape and sound play different notes with our own fanfares, but all playing for the same purpose. All playing variations of the same song he hummed and whistled into the fabric of our family. Each instrument, each note playing the tune of character and grace so we, like Grandpa, could epitomize the Great Conductor the best we can.

With our familial leaders only in our spiritual vision, our path looks and feels differently now. By walking together and carrying each other, we continue our journey with our backpacks filled with the tools and gifts given to us by their gracious hands. Grandma and Grandpa lived every day as if it were a beautiful day. Not once did they let one slip away.

I was at your home yesterday and I was reminded of something. It’s not a house that makes a home, but rather the love that resides there.

I love and miss you,

Ryan

Edited 7/25/20