Grandpa Wheatcraft
Good Afternoon.
People have often asked me how I am able to stand up here and do this. The answer is that my Grandfather taught me how to speak in public through Rainbow and Eastern Star and all of the practicing that they entailed. It was a gift that he passed onto me and I am glad that I can use it to honor him today. Grandpa was always my editor in everything that I wrote. This is a note that the editor would want me to pass on to all of you:
“Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way in which you always used. Put no difference in your tone, wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was, let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same that it ever was; there is unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.”
(Henry Scott Holland 1847-1918, Canon of St. Paul’s Cathedral)
My grandfather imprinted himself on so many things that I know that he will be with us always. For me, I will always be reminded of him with a cup of coffee, a piece of pie, Tuesday mornings, and jigsaw puzzles.
My grandfather loved to work jigsaw puzzles. It was one of his favorite past times and you could usually find one started on a card table somewhere in the house.
The definition of the word puzzle is: a toy, problem, or other contrivance designed to amuse by presenting difficulties to be solved by ingenuity or patient effort.
In reading this definition I can’t help but recognize the similarities between my grandfather and his favorite past time. So often he would present us with difficulties to be solved by ingenuity or patient effort. He would always answer a question with a question only to let us, in the end, answer it on our own. This is what made him such a great teacher, not only in class but in life as well.
My grandfather’s life was like a puzzle, put together piece by piece. His puzzle was made up of so many pieces that made the whole of who he was. Each and every one of us are a piece of that puzzle.
His family, Masonic family, church family, school family, and friends….we all made up the border of this puzzles grand design. Holding it all together and giving it structure and support.
What filled the inside of his puzzle were all of his wonderful memories and past times. Memories of his childhood in New Lexington, Boy Scouts, All of the Masonic organizations that he dedicated himself to, His years of world travel while in the military, He was a teacher at Chagrin Falls High School for 35 years, in the Science Department, where teaching was his labor of love, and those are only a few of the many of the pleasures that filled it.
Everything that my grandfather did he did, he did 110%. There was nothing that he did not do until completion, give his utmost effort and attention, and go the extra mile to ensure that it was finished and finished well, as was his life.
Erma Bombeck once said:
“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and could say, “I used everything you gave me.”
Grandpa always gave 110% and used up everything God gave him in his life. He touched every life more than the average person. Everywhere he went he left an imprint that will be carried with us always. And in the end the love that he took was equal to the love he made.
Our family eventually came to the point of being ready to let him go so that he would not suffer at the end of his momentous life. However, God had other plans. He was not able to go until he completed his life’s puzzle. Not until he touched every life that was part of his masterpiece.
The day that he died I spent my last moments with my grandfather by crawling into his bed like the little girl that used to climb in his lap just to simply be with him. I spent these moments holding his hand, rubbing his head, and snuggling my head deep into his neck. I reminded him of how much he was loved, I thanked him for being my grandpa, I cried on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. I wanted to return all of the love that he had shown to me over the last twenty nine years of my life…….ok, ok, ok thirty-one years of my life. All thought I was trying to love and comfort him all I could feel was his love reverberating back to me. Before I left that day I blew him a kiss and waved goodbye, to which he responded with a wink. I feel so blessed to have shared this time with him and I will keep it with me always.
A wise old bear once said:
“If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.”
Now the pieces of the puzzle that remain are in each one of us. He left each of us a piece of him. Looking down on all of us here today, he is seeing his puzzles completion. Each and every one of us are joined and linked here today because he touched our lives. We are his Magnum Opus…his great work.
The one thing that I told my mother that I would like to have of my grandfather’s was a small wooden box. On the side of the box are the words “One Liners” written in black permanent marker. “One Liners” were kind of Grandpa’s signature ending. So to end today, in honor of my grandfather, I leave you with one of his very own “One Liners.”
“The purpose of life is a life of purpose.”
…And a life of purpose he certainly lived.
