Eulogy 3/9/2012

6:15 a.m.

     

I’d like to share a few thoughts from Mom, Stephanie and me with you.

Mom put together her thoughts early Saturday morning, after our first night without dad, part of which she spent up, cleaning – something we’ve all inherited as a way of organizing our thoughts.

Mom said the devotional she read dad Thursday morning began with, “save your best striving for seeking my face,” and he did, he rested all day and night. In the early hours of Friday she read that morning’s devotional, “rest in my radiant presence.” As you know, dad passed at 6:15 a.m.

The night before, the sky was crystal clear, we could all see the heavens, the moon was full, bouncing it’s brilliant light off Lake Mack as it rose. Mars, Jupiter and Venus plain to the eye, Orion the Hunter gazing down upon Lake Michigan.

I felt as if the entire universe was with us, lighting the way for dad’s next journey. The reflection of the moon on the quiet lake, waves lapping the shore rhythmically like the pulse of life. I was reminded of all of the reflection my father and I had over this past year of his life.

Mom and dad were blessed to enjoy so many years together after his diagnosis in 2001, in part because he rarely rested. In this though, dad wasn’t restless, he was driven to pursue what he believed was right and what he wanted from this life as he prepared for the next.

Dad shared that spirit of determination with Stephanie and me, sometimes overtly, sometimes more like the rocks that over time water has worn, broken down, turned into soft sands.

Dad was always upbeat, refusing to give in to cancer, mom says, and always a positive thinker, knowing he was in god’s hands. Even when dad entered hospice, he asked for a respiratory therapist to come and give him exercises to help him breathe easier so that he could continue to enjoy life, even if it was just occasional basketball games and going to church.

Sports were always integral to dad’s life. In childhood, dad found his mentors through school and athletics, people that later inspired his service to youth throughout his life. He was a middle school teacher and an award winning high school coach. His love of baseball led mom and him to Holland to coach at Hope.

As a grandpa, dad liked to play catch with Sophie, Liam and Gavin. He spent time helping Gavin with his pitching when he had enough strength. Dad always wanted to share what he knew, teaching anyone willing to learn.

He was a math teacher, among other things, and all of the grandkids know that when they saw grandpa they’d get a handful of coins, but they’d have to count them out between themselves. Dad teaching them numbers, division, sharing.

Hard earth

Our world, frozen

A natural spring, awaiting the moment to be set free

The great melting, sun’s starlight

Our hearth

A trickle, a stream, a path chosen

Flowing forth,

Carrying seed and fertile soils

The night moon bright

Deep history in pebbles

Shifted, deposited on new shores

Life begetting life

The journey of generations

Sequence of exponential numbers

Begins with one, then two, then

Broadens as it uncoils

Mom appreciates the many adventures they had together, but this one dad goes on without her, for now. Fortunately, mom got a glimpse of his path when, while lying in his hospice bed, he pointed skyward and told her, “look at the castles.”

Mom surely misses him; we all do, but know he’s now at peace in heaven.