My grandpa Louie passed away on Tuesday, November 22, 2011 at 9:58 a.m. I wrote this to read at his funeral but after reading the 23 Psalm and breaking down I couldn't do it. I'm posting it here so at least someone will know how I felt.
First of all, I would like to thank everyone in this room for being here today.
When the time came to figure out how we would memorialize Grandpa Louie, many things went through my head. Do we have a big service? Do we have lots of flowers? Should we set up a train set? Do we order a keg? I checked. They stopped manufacturing Red White & Blue about 4 years ago.
To honor grandpa, as he would have wanted, we have decided to keep things short and sweet. While he knew so many people over the years, those of you who truly know Louie know that he liked to keep things simple. He was a very simple man who never wanted to be the center of attention.
Grandpa was very special to all of us. Having had the honor of having him as my grandfather I guess I never realized how much of an affect he had on people. It didn’t faze me when he helped build the playground at Pamperin Park. It didn’t faze me when he decided that after retirement he was going to volunteer at the Botanical Garden in his spare time. It never dawned on me that not everyone else’s grandparents were as into gardening, pickling and composting as much as Grandpa Louie was.
Grandpa loved to help others, even if you didn’t really come right out and ask. I remember having some trouble with a pot of African Violets, so I called Louie. The next day I came home from work to find a bottle of African Violet food and a huge informational sheet on what might be wrong with my violets. I never asked him for help; he just gave it.
When my parents decided to remodel their kitchen and dining room dad asked Grandpa for help. While I’m sure dad was just hoping for someone to help lay the hardwood floor, he knew in the back of his mind that the floor wasn’t the only thing that would be done. Grandpa went home that night and came back the next day with all of the molding completely finished, then proceeded to put it back in place. I don’t remember my dad ever saying a word.
Grandpa also taught my brother and I a few things. You’ll have to ask Ryan what he learned (although I’m not sure he’s willing to share EVERYTHING he may have learned). I remember a winter when I was very young, grandpa looked at me and said, “You’re going to learn how to drive this snowmobile.” The next thing you know we’re flying across a frozen Timms Lake, him on sitting on the seat behind me. I took the corner a little tight and wound up doing cheerios on the ice. When we finally came to a stop he looked at me and said, “Good job!”
I will never forget our morning rides on the 70. I look back now and ask myself “Why in the Hell did my parents let me ride on the handle bars of a dirtbike in my pajamas with no shoes and no helmet!” Then I remember that Grandpa would never let anything happen to me. My brother later learned how to ride that same Honda 70, and it is still in operation today. Grandpa would have wanted it that way.
Grandpa loved fishing. And of course his dog Suebee. Grandpa would be gone for hours looking for brookies, coming home with a creel full every time, his trusty dog trotting at his heels.
He also loved his great-grandchildren. When his first Great-grandson was born you could see how proud he was of his family, and with every addition he became happier and happier. He loved to show his grandchildren how to do things, something my son remembers today. It didn’t matter what they got into; they were his grandkids, and if they were happy, he was happy!
Louie was also someone who loved company. I’m sure we’ve all run into the same situation: We’re going to stop by to see Louie and Jane! The next thing you know, it’s 5 hours later, a case of beer is gone, and grandpa is doing his “Just stay for one more!” routine.
While it is hard to say goodbye to someone I love from the bottom of my heart, we all know he is in a better place. The last few years had been rough, watching him go from the man who could split wood and crush cans at lightning speed with just a sledge hammer and a splitting maul, to someone who had trouble remembering what day it was.
When grandma became ill and could no longer take care of him, the staff at Woodside gave him a safe environment to stay in, allowing him to wander to his heart’s content. I had someone tell me the day he passed away that he was one of her favorites; she would stop by with a plate of cookies every day and offer him one. He would say “Thank you,” put it in his shirt pocket and wander off. It makes me feel good, knowing that while he really didn’t know who we are, that he had kind people taking care of him when we couldn’t.
Again, I’d like to thank you all for being here. It would mean a lot to him, knowing that all of his rowdy friends are here for him. If anyone has anything they’d like to share about Louie, please feel free. Oh, and those of you hunting this weekend, if you could please make sure when you come in for the evening, say a little prayer and please “have one more” for Louie.
Thank you.
