It was on one of the two trips we took to the Cleveland Clinic for Dad’s bypass surgeries. We received notice that Dad had been moved from ICU to recovery, so we made our way there. When we got to recovery we found two big, massive, rectangular doors with no apparent doorknobs or means of opening them. So we concluded that we were to wait out in the hallway near the doors and wait for someone to let us in.
After a very short time, we were joined by another family waiting to go into recovery. Unfortunately, one of the members of the other family was lingering too close to the doors when one of them open suddenly, crashing into them and sending them sprawling.
Kath and Tim and I were distracted by the commotion, but Mom, focused like a Navy Seal on a mission said, "I'm going in!" Whereupon we dutifully followed her to Dad's bed where we found him awake, but still a bit groggy from anesthesia. Mom walked over and patted Dad's arm and said, "You did good, hon! You did good!" To which Dad, replied, "Of course I did! I'm a splendid fellow!"
That humorous response was Dad's way of letting us know that he was going to be alright, that we could relax, and that we could let his recovery begin.
And in a nutshell, those were just some of the gifts that Dad shared with all of us: intelligence, wisdom and insight, curiosity, encouragement, and humor. And given all that, it is most appropriate that, despite our sorrow and grief, we gather here today to Celebrate his life. And here are several reasons why a celebration is appropriate.
Celebrations
Number One: Because it is what he would have wanted. And if today’s proceedings were solemn and mournful, he would be disappointed. His advice to us would be “The best way to get beyond the sadness and grief is to look for reasons to celebrate and reasons to be joyful.” So we celebrate today, in part, to avoid disappointing him!
Number Two: Renewal and reunion. Our faith teaches that in passing, he has been made whole and reunited with friends and family members. Dad may be lost to us, but he is not lost. We know precisely where he is and we know that he has been made whole again; freed from effects of that insidious disease, and we should find joy in the fact that he is no longer its prisoner. It is easy to imagine him now made whole…with a twinkle in his eye and the spring returned to his step, he has been reunited with so many family members and friends; his parents, mom’s parents, Aunt Ruth, Uncle Al, and several good, close friends of his. And they are all watching us today and nodding with smiles of approval.
Number Three: Because this day could have come much sooner. I've already mentioned two trips to the Cleveland Clinic for heart surgeries. In fact, there were three such surgeries, including one here in Elmira before the two in Cleveland. The first of them was in 1990, so we need to celebrate the fact that we got almost 3 additional decades with him because of the good doctors and nurses here in this area and at the Cleveland Clinic. They were so good that he told us that at a recent stress test the doctor asked him if he could run on the treadmill instead of walking! Clearly, someone had a different plan!
And, in fact, this wasn’t the first time that another plan was evident. Only a small number of us know that there were two car accidents in early 60s when he was commuting from Erieville to Cortland to finish his education. Two car accidents that happened exactly one month apart, with the same make and model car, with the same exact stone bridge on a back road in central New York, where the cars were totaled and yet Dad walked away from both of them. I can still recall going to the junkyard with Dad to fetch his briefcase, and being amazed at the tangled mess of steel that used to be his car. So you see, someone had a different plan that extended his life and for that we should be grateful!
Reason Four: This is the most obvious reason and it is simply this: We should be joyful and celebrate the fact that his life intersected with and enriched ours. Regardless of the role that he played in our lives: husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, brother, brother-in-law, uncle…minister, fireman, job counselor, tax adviser, community servant, friend, colleague…regardless of the role he played however great or small, our lives were enriched by his presence in it. And that is the real reason that we are here today and the essential reason that we should celebrate. Our lives, in ways big and small, were made richer because he was a part to them.
As I said, Dad was a man of few words, but there are two conversations give us insights into the how and the whyhe enriched our lives.
Conversations
We were talking about how, as adults, we were challenged to find a Church that had the same feel as the churches we grew up in. I suppose part of that is having a minister who is also your dad, but still we were challenged to find a church that provided the same feel. Dad responded, Well, the church has changed. It’s different now than when I was a minister." He added, "When I was a minister, my goal was to make people feel like they were in the presence of God...and I was damn good at it!"
He delivered that last comment with a hint of swagger that I never had seen before. And what I understood him to mean is that, in his church, , he wanted you to feel safe, seen, accepted regardless of your shortcomings or mistakes. He wanted people to know God as he understood him – a God of compassion, encouragement. A welcoming God and a loving God. He didn’t want to make people feel that way because he was a minister; he became a minister so that he could introduce people to the God he understood and believed in.
So that provides the “how” as we try to better understand the ‘true north’ to his compass. But why, why was his focus to unwavering?
It was a Sunday morning in Syracuse, and Dad wasn't in church because he was sick. We were channel surfing to find something to watch and, given that it was Sunday morning, we passed by several televised church services. We paused briefly on one of them, and after a few moments, Dad got this disgusted look on his face, and said, "They have it all wrong!" I said, "What do you mean?" He replied, "When the time comes and you stand before God, the question will not be how righteous were you, but what did you do to Bring Justice into the world?"
And that was the driving force that provided the essential true north to his compass. To bring justice into the world. And there were no rallies, no banners, no campaigns…just one day at a time; one person or small group at a time – working diligently to bring justice into the world.
Dad's choices were to serve others; to do what he could to bring justice into the world; to make people feel accepted, welcomed, loved, and cared for, forgiven, valued, worthy. Those are the gifts of his life to us; those are the lessons that he gave to us; that his life taught us. And when we follow those lessons, we honor him and acknowledge and celebrate the gift that his life was to each of us. And if we follow those lessons often enough, who knows, maybe one day we'll be damn good at it and we can be a splendid fellow too
