eulogy

These past few days we have been sorting through Grandpa's office, trying to make sense of his filing system. During this long and arduous task we discovered numerous old car insurance forms, countless family photographs, some of his gradeschool report cards as well as several packs of gum. (Wrigley's Doublemint, in case you were wondering.) From these treasures several things have become quite clear:

First, they say that JFK was possibly the most photographed man in United States history. Well, I beg to differ and we have the pictures to prove it. It seems Grandpa had propagandists of his own and he beats Kennedy hands down.

Second, the world may never know exactly how many cars this man has owned. So if you're curious, add this to your list of questions to ask the Powers That Be, whenever you may get there.

And finally, by far the most revealing discovery was his first grade report card. From this report card we learned that Grandpa was "inclined to mischief," "whispered too much," and most of all "annoyed others." Now, although 1936 was way before my time, this is exactly how I remember him. We took him to the top of the tower at the Mason museum in Alexandria and he threw his gum at a woman in the parking lot below. He tormented every would-be suitor who unwittingly wandered into his lair for a family dinner. He pushed everyone he could into the pool. He blew tapioca-ball missiles out of a straw at passing vehicles on a busy Chicago street. Instead of saying "I love you" he crushed your hand, shoulder, knee, foot and/or neck into pulp with his giant paws. He played the fifteen minute version of "Rescue the Perishing" on the trombone--loudly and badly. And over and over. He devised numerous schemes to give us money before we parted at the end of a visit: sneaking cash into pockets or purses, hiding it under bed pillows, tricking naive grandchildren into rolling down the car window at the last minute before he dashed into the airport--and his favorite method--just mashing it right into your hand. HARD. Once, I had to forcibly remove him from a reception at my university because he was winding up to throw hot hors d'oeuvres at the Dean's head.

Now, supposedly a person only likes to bother the people he or she really loves. From this we might assume that he loved almost everyone he ever came into contact with, and this might well be true. But he annoyed us, his friends and family, most of all because he loved us most of all. Every time he snuck up beside you to push, squeeze or crush you he was saying "I love you" and "I like you" and also "look how hard I can push, squeeze or crush you." This, if nothing else, is his legacy. He loved us and he truly delighted in annoying us all. And at least in retrospect, we all found it funny.

So, as the years pass by and our family grows, I implore you--though you may remember his good deeds and loyal care and loving heart, do not let these things cloud your memory of him. Do not forget how he annoyed you, for this is evidence of how much he loved all of us, and that is the most important thing. In fact, we should try to annoy each other as much as possible in honor of him and the love he had for us. Forget flowers or donations or headstones--if you really want to do something meaningful, drop by the house and push someone in the pool.

All joking aside, he was the best grandfather anyone could ever wish for and I know that he was a great father as well because he gave my brothers and me a great mother. We love him and we know what love is because of him.

We will miss him always.

--Pastor Robert Dean Ditmer died on Tuesday, 21 June 2005 and is buried in Eureka Christian Church cemetery near his hometown of St. Johns, Michigan.