Words about Grandpa Carl

The following text was what I said at Grandpa Carl's memorial service on April 22nd. I'll admit it was extremely difficult to communicate with Grandpa, especially for me because of my mousy voice. I honestly don't think Grandpa heard much of what I had to say in the last decade. But I heard him--loud and clear. And his words, and his actions, spoke volumes...

"Growing up, I had a special drawer in my dresser. It was full of things like: seashells, rocks, feathers, foreign coins, postcards, egg shells, trinkets, and even, if memory serves, a dried-up seahorse. This was known for years as my “Grandpa Carl Drawer.” The drawer no longer exists, but I still have some of its contents--minus the seahorse. To me, this drawer illustrated a memorable part of Grandpa’s personality: his love of sharing.

Grandpa loved to share stories, memories, facts, and trivia. From his travels, he brought back postcards, pictures, and slides. He shared brochures, programs, and church bulletins. He shared produce from his surprisingly-prolific little yard in Oceanside, tangerines, nuts, stuffed dates, and maybe an expired Cracker Jack box or two. And many of us here today will fondly remember Grandpa’s long-time habit of breaking out a slew of comics and cartoons he had clipped from the newspaper, to pass around at the dinner table. He even brought a pocketful to our wedding.

For Grandpa, sharing was caring. It was something he truly loved to do--to share his interests and anecdotes with his captive audience, time... and again. It’s a uniquely endearing quality that I’ll always remember about him. And I think our lives were enriched because of it."