It has been two weeks since my life turned upside down. Two long weeks. Two of the worst weeks of my life. The absolute worst weeks of my life. Two days ago it hit me, and hit me hard. Ugly hard! My son is not coming back. I knew this from the moment we got the call from the hospital telling us that he was in cardiac arrest and to come quickly. I knew it when we picked out his casket and made plans to bury him, I knew it the day we went to a private family viewing at the funeral home, I knew it the day we said goodbye as he was lowered into the ground, yet it didn’t feel real, it still doesn’t feel real. My heart is aching. His name was Dale. He was my son and he was real, he lived, he loved, and he was loved.
This is the eulogy my mom gave at Dale’s service.
This is my remembrance of my grandson Dale. Dale loved life. He loved living life and he loved living life with others. Dale loved his work. He loved learning new things and he loved doing a good job. Dale loved his family. He loved spending time with his family and he always loved spending time with me.
Dale loved life. He was always willing to try something new. He learned how to ride a bike just about the same time he learned how to walk. His older brothers might have had something to do with that. He was proud that he had grown up with older brothers. He felt that having tough older brothers made him tougher. Later, he learned to ski with the same kind of ease that he learned to ride a bicycle. His curiosity could lead him into trouble, but he will be remembered for the enthusiastic, fearless way he embraced life.
Dale was always on the lookout for new friends. He grew up going to church and learning about Jesus. He was part of the youth group throughout his teen years. He loved being around people and never seemed to enjoy being alone. When he was alone, he had to have music. Dale loved Music. The louder the better.And he was always up for an adventure. Dale also liked to dress up. He would put on a suit at the drop of a hat and loved wearing fancy shoes. He didn’t need to have a reason to look good. It just came naturally. Speaking of looking good, Dale loved driving around in either one of the two beautiful Cadillacs that he owned over the years. Dale loved Life.
When he was able, Dale loved to work. He took satisfaction in a job well done and loved the appreciation he received for doing a job for someone else. He was innately curious, always trying to figure out how things worked. He was able to take apart just about anything that required tools and to put it back together again the way it should be. He worked at Fox Motors for a time training to do body work. He enjoyed it and aspired to be a master craftsman at body work. He even took pride in the tools that he used, often expounding on the pros and cons of some of the better quality tools versus others. He also had a great generosity and a joy for helping others. Dale loved being able to help others.
Dale loved his family. He used to say that I was his favorite grandma on his mother’s side. He had a way of making me feel special, and letting me know that he loved his Oma Etta just as much. Whenever I came to visit Michigan, he always made sure to be there to see me. And whenever we had a family gathering in Minneapolis, Dale wanted to be there too. Spending time with family, aunts, uncles, and cousins; if they were family, Dale wanted to know them, and for them to know him.
My daughter Angela, Dale’s mother, once told the story of when Dale’s brother Jack was born. He brought a box into the room with the baby. When Angela asked Dale what the box was for, Dale answered. I’m going to make a Jack in the box. Dale loved being part of a big family and loved all of his siblings, and he always enjoyed a good laugh.
Speaking of family, Dale had a dog that he loved like it was family. She is a little miniature pincer named Piper. One time when we were talking about whether a dog should be eating table scraps, or any kind of people food, Dale said of Piper, “whatever I eat, she eats.” He loved that dog like it was a person. Dale loved his dog like it was family, and Dale loved his family.
I have one more story about Dale. When he was younger, he would listen to a Christian radio program with his siblings. There was one story that talked about addiction in a kid friendly manner. The story featured a talking chicken named Henny that a boy became addicted to. When the boy tried to break the addiction, the chicken just wouldn’t let the boy go. Dale had some understandings about the dangers of addiction, and just like the boy in the story, Dale tried to break his addiction. He went twice to treatment centers, but the addiction just wouldn’t let him go. But I believe that Dale put his faith in the Lord Jesus, and that I will see Dale again one day.
And that is my remembrance of my grandson Dale. Dale loved life. Dale loved to work and he loved helping others. Dale loved his family and I will always love him. And I will always remain his favorite grandma on his mother’s side.