Sunday, December 21, 2014

Donald's memorial service

Oh, the stories that were told today.  I find it a very unique thing that the stories told by the preacher jived perfectly with the stories told by family and friends.  The preacher knew the same guy we did, and didn't try to "gild the lily".

He told this story:  When Don and Mary first started attending his church a couple of years ago, he learned that Don was a mechanic and mentioned to him that he had a motorcycle that hadn't run right in years.  

"Bring it over," Don told him.  "I'll get it fixed."

Some time went by, but finally the preacher got a call from Don.  The bike was fixed.  Sure enough, the preacher started it up and rode it home.  It ran great!  A few days later, however, he noticed that where a beautiful Yamaha bolt used to be, there was a common square bolt like one you would find on an old tractor.  He called Don and mentioned the bolt.
"Does your motorcycle run?"  Don asked.  

"Yes," answered the preacher.  

"Well then?"  

One lady stood up to tell about the time she told Don her lawn mower wasn't running properly.  He fixed it, but once fixed, it was quite a process to get it started, and he went through all the steps with her.  She was somewhat confused, and asked him why she had to go through all this stuff just to start a lawn mower.  
"Do you want it running," Don asked her, "or you want to pay the price for fixing it right?"  

Don's middle son had a story to tell from a time when he was fifteen years old helping his dad get a car to his shop in Pahrump, Nevada.  He was in the middle of the story, emotional, of course, and said, "we were hauling ass..." and then turned to the preacher and said, "I'm sorry..."

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.  

The common thread in all the shared thoughts was this:  "Don would stop anything he was doing to come and help."

Here's what Cliff and I learned:  You don't need to be looking at a dead body in a coffin in the front of a room to celebrate the life of a loved one.  If we ever had any doubts about our decisions to be cremated, they vanished today.

Cliff and Don


Margaret said...

Nope, you sure don't. The memories of the person are in your head and heart,so you don't need to see the body. I have nothing against it,but services work either way. Glad that the stories about Don made you laugh and relive his life!

Mo Rage said...

Sorry for your loss.

Sympathies, certainly.


The stories and memories will live on. Don sounds like quite a character. May he REST IN PEACE. Again, I am sorry for your loss.

I'm mostly known as 'MA' said...

I agree with you. Those we love will remain as long as the memories live and we keep them close in our heart.

Sister--Three said...

Brother Clayton was cremated and Sister Patsy embalmed. Patsy had paid for cremation but her son just could not do it. Personally, I have told my family that I would rather be cremated. But once we are gone those left behind choose.

My brother's service was wonderful. Lots of folks spoke about him. We did have a minister and prayer and such, but the best part was all the "talks". His insurance agent talked, people he worked with, people that worked for him, old fellow coaches, members of his basketball team from high school, step grandchildren! It was a great celebration. Great stories shared.

Clayton was a boss over a department at Tyson's for over 30 years. Our cousin Stella worked hard on a line. One day brother Clayton sought her out and asked if she would like to work for him. It would be a sit down job. Not "picking" chicken. Stella was thrilled. She is plump lady and standing on the line was killing her. Well, she went home and thought about it and the next day she said she told my brother. Clayton, I was slow in school and I know I can't pass that math test and I don't have enough seniority. Clayton said I think you can pass and I think you have been working hard on this line long enough. Long story short. She passed and got an easier job. She said I have always thought Clayton threw my test away and inserted one he took for me. Donna, both my brother and sister were special folks. I know Don was too!