Eulogy for my paternal grandfather (2001)

I wrote this eulogy for my paternal grandfather, Lawrence "Babe" Ouellette, in the late summer of 2001. I couldn't make it back to Dickinson, ND for the funeral, as I had just left there after a week-long family vacation... everyone coming together for our bi-annual family reunion, fearing (knowing deep down) it was going to be his last one. Rebecca was with me on that trip. Before we left to return to Texas, soon to embark on our European adventure, I told him I was proposing to her when we got to Paris. I called my grandmother from Paris after I did.

This was read by one of my aunts in my absence.

I would like to thank all of you for being here today to honor my grandfather.  I wish I could be here in person, but please know that I am with you in spirit.

The opportunities to be with my family are very dear to me, especially as we all get older.  Time and fortune have done much to foster the growth our own family, giving us more opportunities to rejoice in the gifts of children, in-laws, grandchildren, nieces and nephews.  Even the bitter irony of gathering at an occasion such as this is tempered by the comfort we find in sharing our grief with our family and friends.  The distances that may separate us physically and emotionally are so insignificant in the shadow of our common loss.

I wish that I could be here to comfort my own father.  I can feel how hard this has been on him.  It is something all men fear about the future and the mortality of their fathers, men who seemed superhuman to us for so long.  While we strive to grow into men with jobs, families and homes, we never really try to stop being boys in our fathers╒ eyes.  Because no matter how old we are, we always find comfort in the nostalgia of the days when dad was the center of our universe, a hero more powerful than Superman and a genius even smarter than Albert Einstein.  He could build or fix anything with just a hammer, a wrench and a screwdriver, knew exactly where all the fish were, could cook anything on a fire and still impress us even if he managed to fail at any of these.  A boy should be so lucky to see his father as his hero.  A man should be so lucky to continue to see his father as his hero.

I was very lucky to have a man like Grandpa in my life.  I will always remember he had smiles for us when we saw him, questions about our lives when we spoke to him, and laughs for us when we touched his heart.  Was it just me or did anyone else notice he laugh a lot, too?

I was very lucky to have a man like Grandpa in my life.  I will always remember that he was with a beautiful and loving woman for 60 years, surrounding us with the great gifts of being part of a large family - the stories, the games, the holiday gatherings and the more than occasional home cooked meal.  Will I ever eat better, laugh more or play more card games then when we're all together?

I was very lucky to have a man like Grandpa in my life.  I will always remember that he made my father the man he is today, a man of honesty, integrity and love, standing by his family, friends and his word.  Their love for and confidence in me is always reassuring in my own difficult moments, even if it is hard for them to show it.  Aren't all fathers and sons like that?

I was very lucky to have a man like Grandpa in my life.  I will always remember that he could showing me how rich a man's life could be if he only worked hard, opened his mind to the possibilities and cherished every person that was a part of it.  Does the future hold such a grand destiny for the rest of my life?

I hope that today will pass us with more than a moment to grieve for such a great loss in our lives.  I hope, that from today, we will continue to learn from the life that Grandpa led, a life we were all a part of in one way or another.  I am sure we can see how much he had to teach us all in being a father, a grandfather, a brother, an uncle and a husband. 

While I will miss him enormously, I will be thankful for what he has left behind. 

A part of me hopes that his spirit is at my shoulder when I need him.  A part of me hopes to see him in my dreams when I miss him.  A part of me hangs on to the chance that one day I'll get to compare notes with him on the joys of being a husband, a father, a grandfather and even a great-grandfather.

With eternal love, Jeff

This weighs on me more now than ever. Why? Because it was my Pop's dad. It is hard for a son to contemplate and accept the death of his father, no matter the age. My grandfather had the fortune of a long, 90+ year life, filled with so many wonderful people and experiences. My father is now 80 and still quite active and spry, a golfing, daytripping, and traveling beast, but I can see the years increasingly weighing on him. I've plumbed the depths of his mortality in my own mind so many times in the past and how I'd cope, what I'd say, what I'd write... especially after losing Mom... but now...