My Grandpa White recently passed away on September 22, 2008, just a few months shy of his 88th birthday and just a few months greater than three years after my Grandma White had passed away. They were closer to me than most grandparents would be to most grandchildren.
Just after I had turned 21, I lived with my Grandpa and Grandma White for the entire summer of 2000 when they were still living in Marshalltown, Iowa. I was completing my music ministry internship at New Hope Christian Church in Marshalltown that summer. I loved living with Grandpa and Grandma that summer, am glad I got to know them on a more personal level, and cherish the memories and the things I learned from them.
Here are just a few of the things I learned from them:
1. Arguing can sometimes bring humor into a marriage...if you allow it. This is taken from what I like to call the "Hot Pad Argument." One evening, Grandma was finishing preparing supper and called Grandpa and I into the dining room to help set the table. Now Grandpa and Grandma were both months away from their 80th birthdays at this time and so did not possess the same keen hearing abilities they had when they fell in love with each other nearly 60 years ago. As Grandma was bringing over a hot dish of some sort, she asked Grandpa to put a hot pad down on the table and to do it quickly. He apparently did not hear her, so she yelled it out loud and clear such that I was pretty sure one of the neighbors was going to bring a hot pad over and put it on the table! Grandpa was clearly upset that she had yelled at him and bellowed something back at her (of which I cannot remember now), and she countered with one of the funniest statements I had heard in some time, "You're a hot pad!" So, yes, my all-wise 80-year-old grandmother called my grandpa a hot pad. I immediately laughed out loud as I generally cannot hold in laughter even if it is during a tense moment. Both Grandpa and Grandma then let their guard down and had a chuckle themselves realizing how silly the argument had become. We then continued on with supper and our evening activities that night.
2. A little TLC (tender loving care) goes a long way. One afternoon that summer, I decided I was going to go rollerblading in one of the cemetaries in Marshalltown as it had nicely paved trails. It also has a few beautiful rolling hills. However, I was not (and still am not) a very experienced roller blader. As I was going down my first hill, I began to panic as I began going faster and faster. The trail also began to curve at the bottom which I could not see at the top of the hill. As my ankles began to shake from the speed, my legs finally gave out; and I toppled end over end on the pavement, then on the gravel on the side of the trail, and then finally landed in the grass (thankfully not on anyone's tombstone). As this was happening, the thought that flashed through my brain was, "I may die today. Right here and now, my life might end!" (You will see in just a few lines from where I get my dramatic side). Well, I laid in the grass for a few minutes thanking God that I still seemed to be alive. I then began to get up and assessed the damage. I had bloodied up both arms and legs pretty good and had deep gashes especially on my elbows, wrists, and knees. (I still have about a 5-cm crescent-moon-shaped scar on my right elbow as a reminder of this event.) I then felt pain as I tried to bend down and take off my roller blades. I realized the tumbling had ripped two large gaping holes over my butt in my overalls and in my underwear that I was wearing (for real, who roller blades in their overalls...or who even owns overalls?!) I had road rash and large bruises that covered both butt cheeks. So, I attempted to walk back to my car with one hand holding my roller blades and the other hand holding the rear of my overalls together so that I wouldn't be showing the world my rear end. I then drove back to Grandpa and Grandma's house and asked if they had any bandages. Grandma and Grandpa came to the entry way; and Grandma exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! You look awful! What in the world happened to you?!" (Grandma is one of the people from whom I get my dramatic side.) They brought me into the bathroom and helped me clean up my arms and legs and put gauze bandages over my wounds. We agreed that I would clean up the road rash on my butt by myself...WOW, did that ever sting! I remember still experiencing pain two weeks after the accident every time I would sit down. Grandma also sewed patches into my overalls so that I could still wear them without my butt hanging out. I still have these overalls and pulled them out to make sure I was telling the story accurately.
3. Listening to other people's stories assists in developing a strong connection between you and those people to whom you are listening. I absolutely loved going through old photo albums with Grandpa and Grandma and learning more about their early childhoods, extended family, war stories, etc.; and I could tell Grandpa and Grandma also loved sharing those stories. I witnessed this same active listening on many occasions at church when Grandpa and Grandma were talking with old friends or new visitors at the church.
4. Going to bed at 8:30 p.m. and waking up at 5 a.m. does not mean that naps are not welcome visitors!
5. When you wake up in the middle of the night for whatever reason and can't get back to sleep, that time is probably as good a time as any to let God speak to you through the Bible and to speak to Him through prayer. I remember a couple of times that summer I would come home late at night after hanging out with friends from church and would find either Grandpa or Grandma in the front entry way, where they kept one of their desks, either reading the Bible or a biblical commentary or praying. Grandpa and Grandma both lived purposeful structured lives spending time daily with God. Though we grew up two generations apart with many different experiences, spending time daily with God is something that is a common need for every one of us. I am just recently relearning the grand importance of this lesson all over again.
Grandpa had many favorite activities, but I would say three that would be near the top are playing pinochle, reading, or napping. Pictured below, Grandpa (furthest right) is partnered up with my cousin Daniel (second from the left) against my dad (furthest left) and my uncle Kevin (second from the right) in a game of pinochle at my uncle Kevin and aunt Bonnie's house here in Rochester this past Memorial Day. My uncle Ron is looking on.
Pictured below, my Grandpa is reading a Reader's Digest while my aunt Marsha (left-handed) is participating in a game of Scattergories this past December at Kevin and Bonnie's house.
Pictured below is Grandpa surrendering to the power of the nap and forgetting about all the worries of the world.
I would like to include Grandpa's eulogy using the pictures below.
George William White was born December 2, 1920, in New Providence, Iowa, the son of Levi Wellington and Annie Laura (McCracken) White. He graduated from Whitten High School in 1939 and that fall enlisted in the Navy for six years. He served as a Hospital Corpsman during World War II and rose to Chief Pharmacist's Mate before discharge. George was united in marriage to Margaret Schwarck on June 28, 1942, in Waynesville, Missouri. He graduated from Logan Basic College of Chiropractic in 1954 with a Doctor of Chiropractic degree. George and Marg eventually made their home in Marshalltown for over 40 years where he was a member of the New Hope Christian Church and served in many leadership positions. He had a passion for missions and youth serving on the board of the NE Iowa Christian Camp for over 20 years. George retired from Fisher Controls in 1983. For the last four years, George has lived in Mason City, Iowa, and has been a member of the Church of Christ there.
George is survived by his son Ronald (Karen) White of Stewartville, Minnesota (middle front sitting), his daughter Judith (Alan) Sheldon of Mason City, Iowa (second from the right; my mom), his son Larry (Marsha) White of Indianapolis, Indiana (furthest left), his son Kevin (Bonnie) White of Rochester, Minnesota (furthest right), his brother James (Helen) White of Loveland, Colorado (not pictured), his brother Levi White of Jefferson City, Missouri (middle back standing),
his eleven grandchildren (in order of age, back row: Doug White, Brad Sheldon, John White, Chris Sheldon, Daniel White, me; front row: Shane White, Scott White, Michelle White, Bryan White, and Andrew White),
his twelve great-grandchildren (back row: Kendall Dawson, Kahleigh Dawson, Jarod White, Faith White, Dharma White; front row: Jordan White, Caleb Sheldon, Ashley White, Elijah Sheldon, Hannah Sheldon, Benjamin White, and Gabriella White),
and numerous nieces and nephews. George was preceded in death by his parents, his wife, brother, Arthur Dale White, and his grandchildren, Craig White and Timothy White.
Pictured below is the entire family of George and Margaret White.
All of the grandkids sang "The Old Rugged Cross" (one of Grandpa's favorites); and my brothers, my dad, and I sang "Find Us Faithful." We had also sung at Grandma's funeral a few years back; but the words to "Find Us Faithful" seemed to be moving me more emotionally while we were singing, and it was pretty difficult to make it through the song.
At the grave site, all 11 grandkids carried the casket to the grave (I still can't believe how heavy the caskets are). The Honor Guard was present, and one member of the Honor Guard played "Taps" on a trumpet off in the distance. I had tears streaming down my face as they presented my mom with the perfectly folded American flag. All of this was very moving, and the whole day allowed for a lot of reflection and motivation for me over the past few weeks to begin to emulate the godly aspects of my grandpa's life.
The day before the funeral, my mom wanted my brothers and I to look through a few keepsake items of Grandpa's. I took one of his Bibles. I opened it a few days later and read something he had written on the very first page, "Never believe in never." Obviously, Grandpa wrote this as a motivational reminder to himself. I take this advice to heart as there are way too many times when I think I could never do something thinking it is out of my abilities or realm of comfort when really God may want to use that very thing I think I could never do to stretch and mold me and to help me grow closer to Him. I am 100% convinced that Grandpa will be smiling in Heaven as his family, friends, and those he did not even know in this life choose to never believe in never and allow themselves to continually be shaped by God.
If you would like to read another one of the grandkids' reflections on the life and death of our grandpa, please visit my cousin Shane's blog site at http://shanemwhite.blogspot.com/ and his posts dated September 26, 2008. As I read Shane's reflections, I finally let my emotions run free and let the grieving and growing process begin.
Since I was the youngest in the family growing up, I was always the one who got picked to play Santa (dig the presents out from under the tree and hand them to each person). My family opens presents in rounds. After each person has a present to unwrap, everyone unwraps at once and then we go around and show everyone what we received. And this continues one round at a time until all of the presents are unwrapped. This year, Hannah and Caleb helped me pass out the presents. You may have to look closely in the picture below as Caleb is digging under the tree for some presents all of the way back against the wall.
