Today I attended my grandfather's funeral and was able to share a few words about the kind of man he was. You'll find those words below, and for those who are interested, you can watch the full service here. To all those who shared the day with my family, thank you. It was so fulfilling to hear stories of people who's lives had been touched by one sweet man.
My grandfather often told me,
“Some people are paid to be good.
And others are good for nothing.”
It’s a tough thing to say about your grandfather, so for now I’ll say that he was good for the sake of goodness alone. He was kind without expecting anything in return, and he was generous to people who could not repay him. When my siblings and I were kids, Papa would never visit without bringing a small ten-pack of Timbits for us. It was bribery, plain and simple, but it worked – we were always exhilarated to hear that he and Grandma were coming over. It was such a small thing to do – less than a toonie – but it was a simple way to make us smile. And Papa loved making us smile. He knew if a joke was funny once, it would be funny a thousand times. There’s so many Papa-isms that my family fondly remembers – jokes that he’d told so many times you could tell what they would be before he even opened his mouth.
Papa loved jokes – that’s obvious. But he didn’t love jokes for the sake of the jokes; he loved jokes because he loved people. Over the past week, I’ve heard a number of stories of people whose lives had been impacted by Papa’s generosity, his kindness, or just his presence. One of the things I’ve seen the most often is how many people said he was ‘a sweet man’. There’s something very tender and heartfelt about that word, more so than ‘nice’ or ‘good’. He was sweet, and that’s something that everyone could see.
A great example of this comes from almost ten years ago. Two days before Christmas Eve, the power went out across all of Toronto. Over three hundred thousand people watched the lights blink out and the heaters shut down. My mother got us to hunker down for one evening in our home - all of us sleeping with three or four blankets each, as well as wearing multiple pairs of socks. But when morning came and the power didn't, she decided it was time to try something else. Specifically, our grandparent's house. Papa was overjoyed. His memory had already begun to fade at that point, but he hadn’t forgotten how much he loved people - particularly his family. So four snow-covered teenagers shuffled into his home, along with my Mom and Aunt Cathy. We were in for a crowded couple of days.
It was such a small thing to do – letting us sleep on their couch – but in doing so, Grandma and Papa gave me one of my most memorable Christmases ever. They gave us a warm place to sleep and a chance to make memories together. And that’s something that has been important to Papa for as long as I can remember. My siblings and I got to spend every summer growing up at Lakeshore Pentecostal Camp because of him and his trailer. He bought the trailer around 1998, and he paid for my siblings and I to go to Kids Camp, Jr. High Camp, and Youth Camp for about sixteen years altogether. Because of a little tiny plot of land that he bought and maintained, we got to have experiences that we’d remember for the rest of our lives. I have so many stories of my siblings and I having late-night fits of laughter, or epic adventures under the sun – and all of those were possible because of him. So much of my own personal relationship with God is rooted in memories and lessons I learned in those summers. Apart from my faith, the most significant benefit of my time at LPC was meeting my wife Jenna, a woman who loves God and manages to love me too. Papa probably didn’t buy that trailer thinking that he was paving the way for his grandson to find a wife. But he knew the importance of a growing relationship with God, and that was enough for him to do what he did.
We were driving home from camp one night, three years after the Christmas without power, and I was sitting in the middle of the van with Mom and Grandma in the front, Papa next to me, and Joel and Dreanna in the back. Papa was further along in his condition, but he hadn’t forgotten his love of music and the old hymns. And there was a really cool moment where Mom was playing music for Papa. She was playing a song that he really liked – His Eye Is On The Sparrow - but he was falling asleep, so Grandma and Mom were just singing it together for him. And just sitting there, taking the moment in, I started crying. Nobody noticed in the moment, thankfully. I just thought it was really cool to see what Papa was leaving behind.I loved how our family was together and how Mom and Grandma were taking care of Papa in the best way they knew how, and I loved how Papa was so comfortable there while his daughter and wife sang to him. Papa didn’t spend his years loving my mother and his wife so that when the time came he’d be taken care of like this. He loved them for love’s sake. Because that’s who he was – and this moment was emblematic of what he meant to them.
Three years after that night in the van, Papa had just gotten out of the hospital. He had been moved to Shepherd Lodge now, and Jenna and I had found out that she was pregnant with Hally. Papa was still talking a bit at that point, though his speech was becoming more slurred than before. I knew that I wanted to tell him the news, so I drove down to tell him on my own. I didn’t know then that this would be the last real conversation that I’d ever have with him. Honestly, he was better than I had seen him in a long time. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, alert and aware that I had come in. As I introduced myself, it became clear that he didn’t really know where he was - but he was more than capable of holding a conversation, making jokes, and forming complete sentences. Sometimes he didn’t get the joke all the way out, but you could see that glimmer in his eye that told you there was one brimming just beneath the surface. I wanted the day to feel special given the big news, so I took a page from Papa’s book and brought a ten-pack of Timbits for the two of us to share, just like he always had. I explained why I had brought the Timbits, and he replied that I had a good memory. Then I grabbed a chair and sat down opposite him, the box still in my hand.
“Well, Papa, I’ve got some big news for you,” I said. He opened his eyes wide as a joke. “My wife Jenna and I have been married for two years now,” I said.
“Married?” he asked.
“Yup!” I said. “You were at the wedding, actually. You prayed for the meal.”
“I don’t remember,” he admitted.
“That’s okay,” I said. “You did a great job.”
“Is she nice?” he asked.
“She’s great,” I smiled. “She’s funny, and smart, and she loves God.”
Papa nodded.
“Anyway,” I continued. “We’ve been married for two years, and we just found out that we’re pregnant with our first kid!”
This time his eyes went wide but for real. I smiled.
“I know,” I said. “It’s a big deal.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I figured since you’ve got two daughters and five grandchildren, you could give me some advice,” I said.
He looked at me. “Leave town,” he joked. That was really funny. But then he got very serious. “Now, you need to trust God,” he said. “You need to trust him and depend on him. You need to rely on each other and trust in Him. Trust in His plan.”
We talked a bit more, and somewhere along the line I tried changing the subject. It wasn’t because I wanted to talk about something else – I just knew from experience that Papa couldn’t hold a conversation for too long and sometimes it’s just easier to keep things moving. But Papa did something he’d never done for me as long as I’ve known about the dementia. He kept coming back to the pregnancy. He kept saying,
“Always remember, just trust in Him. Trust in God and depend on God.”
He wouldn’t let it go. And then he did something else. He reached out his hand to me – at first I thought he was trying to grab a Timbit, but then it became clear he was trying to take my hand. So I took his, and then he started to pray.
“We give you thanks, Father, for what you’ve given us today,” he prayed. “We pray that you will help Matt.” He used my name. “Bless him, stand by him, and help him to trust in you and depend on you. Be with him in this new time.”
He said a few more things I can’t remember, and then closed the prayer off. It was incredible. He was more present than I could ever remember him being in that season with me.
I think often about the family that my grandfather built, and moments like that Christmas Eve where we were all together. I don't know all the steps that he took to get his family to where we are today, and as the years went on, it became harder and harder to ask him. But I knew that he had spent a lifetime investing little simple moments in his daughters and grandchildren. He brought up for me a loving mother who is dedicated to God and fiercely loyal to those around her. He taught me the value of finding value in old things. He taught me that just because it ain't broke doesn't mean it can't use a tune-up. He even taught me how to whistle. He laid the groundwork for the family that I would become a part of before I even existed.
Papa lived a life filled with simple little things. Like old hymns, living room couches, close-quarter trailers, and Timbits. And if any one of those moments had never existed, no one might have noticed at first. But when you look back on all the Timbits he left behind, you see that they weren’t just Timbits. They were seeds. They were little tiny things that blossomed into the people that Papa left behind. People that look out for each other. People that trust in God even when it’s hard. People that work hard to make a place for others even if it gets a little cramped at times. When Jesus called the disciples, he loved them for who they were – and that little group went on to change the world. Jesus laid a foundation that changed generation after generation all the way down to my grandfather. And Papa laid a foundation for his family based on that, which would impact not only his children and his children’s children, but the children after that.
Papa loved the people in front of him as best as he could, for as long as he could. And Jesus took those moments and made their impact so much greater than Papa likely anticipated. One of Papa’s favourite hymns sums this up:
Many things about tomorrow I don’t seem to understand – but I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand.
Papa did his best with what was in front of him, and left tomorrow to God. And we’re living proof of the impact that one sweet man can have. He was a man who did little things every day of his life that added up to far more than I think he ever imagined. And that’s why I’m so proud to have a grandfather like Papa Stan.
Because some people are paid to be good – but Papa was good for nothing.