For Gump 3

Thank you all so much for coming.  That you are here with us today to celebrate my grandfather’s life gives the family strength as we stagger under the weight of losing him.  Thank you, in particular, for being here for Nan–his beloved partner in life for 71 years and the great matriarch of our family.

I have to be honest with you, I’ve found it very hard to encapsulate a lifetime of experiences and the love I have for my grandfather into a few words.  In his honor, though, I will be brief.  I’m pretty sure he’d have little patience for long-windedness especially if dinner was waiting.

First I’m going to have to ask you to indulge me.  For many of you he was Don, for a special few he was Dad.  Forty years ago as I was learning to talk I was faced with the challenge of saying Grampy; I failed miserably.  Out of that failure, however, Gumpy was born.  That’s who he will always be to me–he’s Gump.  He took the name with a laugh and I think he may have actually relished it a bit.  Here we are four decades later and he’s about to be memorialized as “Gumpy” — maybe not just by me.  He’d like that I think.

Many of my most meaningful moments with Gump seem too trivial to describe.  I remember sitting on his lap and looking together at the illustrations in a series of books by Time-Life called “The Old West.”  He’d tell me little stories to go along with the pictures.  He knew so much and was happy to share all of that information with a young boy.

I’m not lying when I tell you that a great number of my memories of Gump involve books.  He had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and read a staggering number of books in his life.  He was never without something to read, usually something historical–almost always, to a young boy, something thick and intimidating.  Gump’s never-ending education was a great constant in my life.  For many years I under-appreciated this but now I have a family, I have children and the importance of his example is no longer lost on me.  He gave me a great gift.  He made learning infectious.  He demanded of himself a deep and penetrating knowledge of issues far beyond the borders of his beloved home town.  Heaven help the poorly informed person who engaged him in an argument.  Guilty.  Gump taught me to take personal responsibility for my education and by extension to have opinions formed by reason and the hard work of learning.  Here again he taught by example–he certainly had no shortage of opinions.  For Gump I think, there was great honor in standing for something and for having the knowledge to claim strength of conviction.  I love him for this.

As his family has grown we’ve benefited from his experience in countless ways.  Not every family can draw lessons from a 71 year marriage.  Nan and Gump lived through much.  There were, of course, terrifying times; thankfully there were far more happy times.  Most importantly they lived these moments together.  With the good, with the bad they were better together–stronger for each other.  In a plastic world where almost everything is disposable our family had the great honor to witness something timeless.  Something amazing.

The great thing about the kind of love Nan and Gump shared is that it was far bigger even than them.  It was born of family and the notion that there is no greater responsibility and no greater joy than being a part of one.  Not too long ago Gump asked my mom if she and Dad were okay–he wanted to know if there was anything he could do for them.  My mom told him that he, at that point in his life, could stop worrying about her to which he replied, “worrying about you is my job.”  Good to know that I’ll still be freaking out about my kids when I’m ninety-three.

That love didn’t end with his own children, it continued and grew with each new member of our family.  At the end of last summer I came home with Ressia and the kids.  We spent time good deal of time with Nan and Gump and I can recall quite vividly the tender look in Gump’s eyes as my children sat on his lap–they mauled him really.  He was happy and had one of the sweetest smiles I’ve ever seen him wear.  I think at that moment I was seeing Gump truly enjoying all that is his legacy.  In this extended family he and Nan made something very special.  Whether his children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, or countless generations that will follow, he mattered.

I have to smile a bit when I consider how much Gump has given me.  In spite of all that, he wasn’t done.  Today, right here Gump has given us one last gift–something very important.  From distant parts of the continent and with harried schedules and frantic lives he’s brought us together once again.  Friends, family, those touched by his life, we have made our way here to say goodbye.  We are together.

Thank you Gump–we get it.

July 7, 2010