I'll start by saying that the delay in response to your post, Ed, has been somewhat intentional. Your post caused a lot of discussion, thinking, and more discussion around this house. This is a tough one, and I've had more than one person tell me that maybe I just shouldn't respond at all, but I think that would defeat the purpose of why we created this blog in the first place.
The reason this is a "tough" response to write is because of the content. Specifically, we're talking about our Grandpa who is no longer with us. I don't want to be the person that attacks, belittles, or criticizes someone who is no longer with us, so I will do my best to avoid that. But at the same time, I think I need to respond to some of your comments.
I was younger than you so you probably have a few more memories of Grandpa than I do. I don't have a lot of them, but many of them are good ones. I remember him taking us fishing often, staying at the trailer at New Delhi, and riding in his van with the "whoopty" whistle. I was pretty young when all that happened, but they were a lot of fun. I still think of him every time I pass a cemetary. Not because he has passed away, but because of a joke that he always told us. I've told it to several people myself.
Grandpa: How many dead people are in the cemetary?
All the cousins: 500? 300? 1000? 7 billion?
Grandpa: All of 'em. :-)
I know that Grandpa did some great things in his life. He served his country in the United States Navy, was married to the same woman until his death, and managed to provide for seven children. That is admirable! Unfortunately, most of my later memories of Grandpa are not the greatest. I don't know if he dealt with it his entire life, but in most of the years that I knew him he was losing a battle with alcoholism.
You mentioned your admiration of Grandpa's character. What does it mean to have character? I gather by your definition, Ed, that character is sticking to your guns, regardless of what it is and not letting others influence you. If that's a fair definition then yes, I would have to agree that Grandpa was a man of great character. But to me, character has a deeper meaning, a layer of context in which there is a moral or ethical quality to it. To put it another way, if I'm going to say that a person has character, I need to specify the moral or ethical quality of it. Is it good character, bad character, or so-so character? And more importantly, our character impacts other people. If bad character negatively impacts the people that we love, then maintaining that character at all cost and refusing to change isn't admirable to me at all.
This is really hard to write for me, because I wasn't even at Grandpa's funeral. I was at school in Monterey and Grandma told me not to come home early (I was going to be home about a week later). Definitely not an easy topic.
People aren't going to say bad things about somebody at their funeral. I certainly wouldn't. We all have flaws, every single one of us. And when I die, people will more than likely try to put a positive spin on my flaws. Pointing out mistakes, flaws, or challenges that a person may have had at their funeral doesn't help the living to mourn and continue to live their own lives. Part of the mourning process is reminding people of the positive traits and the positive things about a person's life. And I'm sure that's what they did at Grandpa's funeral, specifically in regards to the two poems that you cited Ed.
I have to be honest and say that I don't really agree with "The Guy in the Glass". I understand the sentiment, but I don't think it is stated well. "He's the feller to please, never mind all the rest..." sounds like it could be a definition for "selfishness" in the dictionary. I fully support honesty and integrity with yourself. But not selfishness at the cost of others. I think at the end of the day when you look in the mirror you have to honestly ask yourself if the things that you are doing "for yourself" are hurting the people that you claim to love. Don't get me wrong, everyone makes mistakes. That's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is demanding that "this is who I am" or "this is who I want to be" at the cost of others. "The Station" made a little more sense to me because it conveys the message that we should live for today, to live and to love as we go through life. But again, live and love for what? Selfishly? Without regard for the people on the journey with us? Surely that it not the point. "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves." (Philippians 2:3 NIV)
As you guys know, I've been going through Mom and Dad's photo albums and scanning the pictures so that we'll all have access to them. I am getting so much joy out of seeing our childhoods lived out on the film in the presence of so much family. Every birthday and holiday picture I've seen we're surrounded by family like Jane, Brian, Phil, Doug, Brenda, Jacquie and Earl, the Purdys, the Wittes, Grandma and Grandpa Strempke, etc., and Grandma Birchard. The person missing in almost all of those pictures is Grandpa Birchard. And it saddens me. I know that he had a terrible addiction, which is the saddest part.
Ed, you said that one of the things that you appreciated and could take from Grandpa's life was that he always made time for the things that were most important to him. I guess I just wish that one of those things was spending time with family so that we had a few more memories with Grandpa Birchard in them.
Rest in peace Grandpa.
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