It’s been a year to the day since my grandfather passed. i think of him daily, his picture rests on my refrigerator, and gives me pause, helps me reflect. This is the eulogy i read at his funeral, warts and all. i was tempted to edit it more, but, well you can’t edit the past, these are the words that were said, try to capture sentiments beyond description. i miss you Grandpa D--------
Y'all ok if i cry?
Great, gonna happen.
i'll do my best to keep this short, as i'm known to go a little overboard with my speeches, and so, i won't be sharing stories. There are many, many, hilarious and touching tales to tell but the most defining part of any good story is a great character, and that's what i’d like to speak of. i won't tell you how Grandpa D-------- used to jump atop rail cars and ride into the city as a boy, how he'd fearlessly stand up to fights and fires, or the pride he had coaching his kids. Yes, i have many tales to tell, though i wish we'd made more. It's the measure of my grandfather's character that i'd like to share with you now.
As far as i remember my grandfather had two real jobs. Saving people from burning buildings, helping as their lives burnt to the ground, and building folks new houses to raise their children in. He didn't just build houses, he built homes. He built his family's home which raised his children, his grandchildren, and still today hosts his great grandchildren. He built his home with his own two hands which is such romantic rarity, i didn’t appreciate until i saw the world.
There has been a resurgence of interest in Stoic philosophy over the past decade. These concepts and practices always read so familiar to the measure, and examples set by my grandfather. A man who wore his flaws honestly. i man who faced the day relentlessly. He went towards difficulty, he didn't cower, he didn't wait for others to handle things, he was a man of action, and kindness. Never encroaching, and always helping.
Grandpa D-------- would honestly hate the praise i'm about to give. What i hope is, that he, and you, will come quick to realize is, that this is not flattery but truth. One of my favourite things about my grandfather was his modesty. i wish i knew more about his life, about his accolades and heroism. i don't know the best stories. What i do know, is the weight the name Write has. i am proud to be a Write, and a lot of that comes from D--------. Theres so much selflessness and kindness in this family, and humour. i loved the reactions other parents who grew up in our community had when finding out i was a Write because of my aunt, uncle, and father. Known for mischief, humour, a bit scrappy, but always an adventure. i love how when i met firefighters they glowed when they spoke of my grandfather, they're faces would change, they'd look at me differently. They'd speak about what an honour it was to work with him, they spoke with pride to have been together with him. Especially the guys on the firefighters soccer team.
i am embarassed to say how long it took me to fully see, and appreciate my grandfather for the man he was. His gruff nature kept myself, like many others, from taking the time to approach him and truly get to know the man. But when i did, he was there to receive me immediately, he'd been waiting. And there was so much wealth. i had such a fear in the years i travelled that he would pass before i returned. And when i did come back to town i did my best to sit with him, and gleam what wisdom i could.
And what i found was a deep reverence, and awe for nature. A curiosity and appreciation for other cultures- specifically their cuisines. A frustration for the lack of respect, between people, between the land, for a lack of decency. He believed in respect, even down to how he dressed, always a collar, always shaved, a sharp hair cut, an effort for others. And despite a lifetime of making fashion choices he didn't agree with, torn pants, chains, piercings, tattoos, which i knew he hated, i knew he loved me just the same.Whether you noticed it or not, the man had style, down to changing the spelling of our last name. Which is so bold, so cool.
Grandpa D-------- carried a lot of weight on his shoulders. He held a lot of burdens. i never heard him complain. Oh he would let you know you were a jackass when he thought you were one. But he would never leave you hanging. He was a man who stood up, even if choosing so meant to stand alone. He would make every effort to be at all of our games. Standing alone, on the far side of the field, keeping a watchful, inspecting eye on every move. And much to our dismay, study and critic the game, and our plays.
He didn't do that because he was trying to be a jerk, he did that because he was trying to show us he cared. Because he was trying to give us his undivided attention. Show us love through his time, our greatest currency. This is a man who held great reverence for craft, and excellence. And would tolerate a bunch of kids mucking up the sport for hours, running around, appreciating the game, adoring us, and doing his best to help.
Help, that's what this man structured his whole life around. This was a man ready to jump in the fire.
A life is a hard thing to quantify. But what i can tell you is this, D-------- Write was respected by his friends, and more specifically by men that deserve all our respect. There are many public services, but firefighters stand in my books as some of the most honourable. Men who choose to use their might as a force for rescue, for peace, to fight against the most fickle, and destructive element. The fire.
More than that, as gruff as he was, his children and grandchildren cherished him. Not all of us had the same relationship with Grandpa D--------. It took work, he wasn't forthcoming, he wasn't easy. He was absolutely worth it.
i am honoured with all the time i had with D--------, and so grateful to have many lessons, and many memories to guide me through the rest of my life, to help me walk through the fire.
His flaws, always came out of a deeper sense of caring. He cared about what you did, how you acted, because he was afraid of you getting hurt. Not bumps and bruises, he knew what healed, but he also knew what didn't. He made tremendous efforts to protect us. Some called him a penny pincher or cheap, in one of his last moments of clarity in the days leading to his death he looked around the hospice, and in complete fear asked how much this was all costing. i told him not to worry, it was all taken care of, that everything was fine, that everyone was fine. He told me that it was too much and that we had to take care of the kids and their kids. It doesn't really get more selfless than that.
In my travels i've thought often of what measures a good life, adventure, joy, i care not for riches, i think they're an illusion, that prestige is fleeting. i think it's really the measure of breaking the cycles of affliction you've been dealt with and trying to see to it that the people in your life had it better than you did. i think the measure is by your children, and more than that by your grandchildren. In the end of his life Grandpa D-------- had us fighting with whom could sit by his side as he passed. It was an honour to sit by his bedside. And i'll miss him as much as i'll cherish his memory, which is a lot.
If you're in this room, rest assured D-------- cared about you. He cared about us all, he cared about strangers, he cared tremendously. Sure he might call you a moron or a jackass, but that's only because he thought you were one. He'd still be there for you, he'd still jump in the fire on your behalf without being asked to.
Grandpa D-------- was so generous, with his time, with his plate, with whatever skills he had to help, whether you wanted his advice or not, he was trying to tell you the truth, as best as he could see it.
Growing up, we called him Grumpy D--------,
He was grumpy because he was having the worst time.
He was having the worst time so we could have the best time.
And i had the best time with him.
Thanks for reading! This was a hard one.
- Mr. Write