My Grand Dad's Funeral

Here is the Eulogy I delivered at my Grand Dad's Funeral.

I am about to be a dad. In four months my little girl will be born and she will never get to meet the most wonderful man I have ever known. At 4 a.m. on Sunday morning that was the first thing that ran through my head when my dad called to tell me of my Paw Paw’s death. We, here today, join the rest of creation as it cries out at the loss of one of its most prized members. We, as a family, thank you for being here as you show your love and remembrance of this amazing life and this amazing man.
It is a strange and confusing tension that we find ourselves in today. We mourn, we mourn his absence, the absence of his kind smile, his gentle words, we are brought to silence because we do not hear his warm voice, we sit and we tell his stories because over the years they have become our own. We find ourselves in this tension because we all long for just one more minute, one more smile, one more time to see him at the top on the drive way with his arm around granny Betty waving good bye and telling us to hurry back. We are here to mourn but we are also here to celebrate. We are here to celebrate this man’s life and the life he talked about to everyone he met. The life that follows this, the one without sickness, without cancer, without heart bypasses and strokes. The life where he can see from both of his eyes and his body does not hurt anymore from the years of Chemo. That life he wanted everyone he met to have a part of, the life with God. We mourn his passing but we celebrate the life he is passing from and the life he is passing into.
If you knew Paw Paw at all you knew his love for the scriptures. Over the past nine months he has been studying intently a scripture in I Thessalonians where Paul calls the church to “study to be quiet.” In his quest to know God and make God known he submersed himself in this idea. I believe Paw Paw arrived at his conclusion before he ever knew it. St. Francis found the answer long ago as well, he expressed it this way, “Preach at all times and if necessary use words.” This is the answer that Paw Paw has always practiced. He could be silent because his life spoke in poetic prose of his love of God and neighbor. That is why last night over 300 people came to, in their own ways, tell Paw Paw thank you. He lived his life and lived it to the fullest.
After seeing all of us gathering here today as well as last night a picture comes to my mind. I picture him walking towards an old bridge, joyfully knowing where his path leads him. As he arrives at the base of the cobblestone bridge he turns back and looks over the road of his life. He sees you, he sees me, he sees his times with us all and he sees us here now. He sees us grand kids, his boys and his dear bride. I see that warm smile come across his face and with no regrets he turns back to the bridge begins his walk across stepping into God’s sweet embrace he hears God whisper; welcome home, well done my beautiful child, welcome home.
William Cullen Bryant wrote, in his poem Thanatopsis, for us to live in such a way that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustain'd and sooth'd
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams

As I have talked to Granny Betty, my Uncles and my Dad, Paw Paw walked to this bridge not with fear or regret but with and unfaltering trust. Granny Betty said Sunday morning she looked at him and for the first time in months he was resting. He was resting because it was time to go home. He wrapped himself in the blanket of Gods love and laid his head down where he peacefully fell asleep in the arms of his father.
I told you at the beginning how I hurt so badly because my little girl will never meet the greatest man I have ever known. I am comforted now because I know she does not have to meet him to know what kind of man he was. She can know him by the impact he made on all of those who have known him. The love and grace we all learned from him, we were all taught by his constant smile and joy even in the face of all his pain and the honesty and goodness his life alone called us all to. That is the man my little girl will know because the legacy of his good spirit lives on in all of those whom he touched. Paw Paw we all miss you, you lived a life of beauty, thank you for who you were and even more who you helped us become. I love you Paw Paw. Rest well beloved child of God.

Pax
Stephen