All Things Gary Nelson

I kept this written just as it sounded at the memorial service on Saturday. I can't believe I made it through without any Kleenex!!! The service was amazing. Slide show to come. I miss you, Dad.

*****

You all think I'm crazy standing up here. You're right.

First of all, I shouldn't have to be standing up here. Not yet. You hear so many accounts of someone or other's family member developing cancer, but you just don't think it will happen to someone in your own family. Or at least not before you've agreed they've lived a long and full life.

Dad was so looking forward to retirement. He never really enjoyed driving truck, but that was how he could provide, and providing is one thing he was always passionate about. There was never too much money, but somehow all the bills got paid, his children got through college, he faithfully gave to the church, and he tried to remain consistently debt free. My dad looked to meet the immediate need, but he often sacrificed unsaid wants and even needs for the sake of his own family.

Can we go as far as to say, then, that the reason I am standing up here today, and the reason all of you are here today is because of those very sacrifices? What a tragedy if we had to say yes. Can we say that my dad's illness could have been successfully treated if only they had discovered the cancer at an earlier stage? Perhaps. Whom do we blame? The doctors? My dad? Myself? God?

It is senseless to ask the "why" questions. We are all here today because cancer took over my dad's body and drove him out of it. In retrospect, we understand that cancer was God's will for my dad's life. Yet, we cannot blame or curse God because of it. We are not bitter. Disease like cancer is a result of the Fall and sin's curse on the world, but God also allowed this cancer to grow my dad spiritually and to touch countless lives in the process.

God promises that He will one day restore all that is broken, including: diseases, natural disasters, weeds, parasites; and He will remove all pain, sorrow and, ultimately, death. For those who have trusted Christ, He offers the promise of enjoying our physical bodies once again; bodies, which He will make perfect and sinless. And that includes my dad.

Until then, however, God is in the business of restoring hearts, preserving souls.

And so, well, I am standing up here, it did happen to my family.....but you better believe that my dad lived a long and full life! There are so many traits that made my dad unique. During the afternoon he passed away, my brother and I came up with quite an extensive list of what I call, "All Things Gary Nelson". I will not share them all, because the list could infinitely continue, but these are just a few of the things that make us smile when we think of our experiences with our dad.

I know all of you would attest that there was nobody quite like Gary Nelson. He was one of the most easy-going people to be around, genuinely friendly and likable to everyone. He was always comfortable in his own shoes. He never really cared about the latest this-or-that, he was always content with what he already had. Extremely practical, his only requests for Christmas gifts typically consisted of two items: white tube socks and D batteries! He rarely expressed what he really wanted, although we certainly treated him well beyond socks and batteries!

And he refused to purchase clothing until he nearly wore out what he owned, proudly wearing ties from the 70's and 80's well into the 21st century! That was just him, and while perhaps not the most fashionably dressed, we always found his attire endearing because he just didn't care. If he was comforable and warm, he was good.

I have to say, both Justin and I believe we inherited Dad's sense of humor. You know him. If you had to sum up my dad's humor into just one word, what would it be?

DRY.

Absolutely! Dad was literally tongue-and-cheek. He would put the line out there and wait for the reaction, but you could always tell he was joking because he looked like he was trying not to laugh. Either that or he would wink really fast, and whether you caught it or not, his punch line was sure to make you groan. Dad was very much a kid at heart. He liked to goof around and find the humor in life. That made him into an awesome dad when he spent time with us. I love that I inherited his sense of humor. I'm not as skilled as he - Justin might be - but I'm working on it.

One summer, either during our high school or college years, Justin wanted me to watch the movie, "Signs" with him. I'm not one bit a fan of thrillers, but apparently Justin convinced me to watch. So there we were sitting in the living room in the dark, watching an alien movie, so of course I'm already on edge. Just when the suspense has me reeled in, Dad walked into the room wearing my brother's Newt Gingrich mask. Both of us about jumped out of our skin! Sometimes he was so random like that!

Yeah. I don't know why Justin owned a Newt Gingrich mask, either.

Dad loved people who could make him laugh. He loved old slapstick shows like The Three Stooges, The Honeymooners, Laurel and Hardy, and let me tell you, he laughed till there were tears rolling down his eyes and till he'd have to catch his breath. He enjoyed blooper shows like America's Funniest Home Videos, and he also loved good, clean stand-up comedians. Red Skelton, Jerry Lewis, and all the classics. Then I introduced him to Mark Lowry, who became his most recent favorite.

Last month God gave me the gift of two precious weeks with my dad, and at times he would open up and really share his heart. On one such occasion he told me that he was not afraid of death, only the dying process. That warmed my heart because it assured me he was certain of his Eternal destination, and I didn't blame him for the second part. It made me think of a phrase from one of Mark Lowry's comedy bits that my dad liked so much, "I'm not afraid of dying.....I just don't want to be there when it happens!"

It is amazing how Dad was able to keep his dry humor until the very end. All of us who spent some time with him over the last few months can attest to this.

At one point Jeromy and I were talking to him over the phone, and for a while there, Dad really believed there was hope he could survive the cancer. After pausing to reflect on the possibility one way or another he said, "Well...at least I survived the 60's!"

During that same conversation Jeromy made a comment, in all seriousness, that Dad was closer to standing in the presence of God than ever before, as if he were knocking on Heaven's door. And of course, Dad piped up with, "Isn't that a Bob Dylan song?" and started singing the lyrics.

And then Bev, groping for the right words to comfort and ease my dad's suffering, said, "If you can't fight anymore, Gary, just let go." Dad didn't buy it. "Naah, that only works in Hollywood," he said.

Justin last saw Dad the Sunday before he passed away. He was trying to say his goodbyes before he left the care center, and then Dad abruptly pointed his finger in the air and stated, "But just remember. I'm not dead yet!"

How can he not be at this moment entertaining the saints and angels with his quick wit! Certainly, humor played a huge role in the person God created my dad to become. It brought us joy and comfort to see him laughing even in his last days.

One of my favorite "Dad humor" lines was stated so matter-of-factly that he was clearly proud of himself! One time Justin accidentally shot and killed a rabbit in the back yard with his BB gun. "Accidentally" because he was sure he would miss. Well, he's apparently a pretty good shot because once he realized he'd hit the thing, he scrambled to figure out what to do with it. So he did what any boy would do with a dead rabbit: he stuffed it into a large ziplock bag and threw it into the chest freezer! (And it remained in there for years, until just last month, in fact!) I don't know how long it took Dad to notice the frozen rabbit, but I just remember him coming up the steps to Sunday dinner and saying, "It appears that rabbit's had a bad “hare” day." And then of course he said something classic like, "I think it winked at me."

Speaking of "hair"...

Although Dad never cared too much what people thought of him as far as appearances go, he did care about losing his hair. He seemed to have perfected the comb-over, and regularly carried his comb with him wherever he went. In fact, one day while he and my mom were dating, he accidentally left his comb at my grandparents' house in Waterville and stopped at a pay phone to make sure they could find the comb and save it for him. You never know when you need a few “swipes”, as he called it.

One morning while I was still in high school I must have been complaining about a bad hair day. My dad overheard and let me have the truth, “At least you have hair!” What could I say to that??

Justin remembers when dad misplaced his asthma spray. Nothing frustrated him more than forgetting where he put something of value or importance. Justin watched him stomp around the house for a few minutes, back and forth through the living room. All of sudden he declared, “I hate losing things!” and then under his breath Justin heard him mutter, “Especially my hair!”

After Dad passed away I was thinking about when Christ returns and the resurrection of the dead takes place. That was one of the last subjects I spoke about with him. Especially in such a dark hour of his life he desperately needed to cling to those promises of God. Now, I don't really know what our new or restored bodies will look like or be like, but while I was contemplating my dad coming out of that grave I wondered, 'Will he request a full head of hair?' I won't know what to think of him!

Dad had some hobbies, although he didn't have a whole lot of time to devote to them. He loved baseball, for one. One of my very favorite memories of time spent with my dad is playing catch at the park on Sunday afternoons. He insisted that we each own nice ball gloves, and taught us the principles of catching and throwing. I never did get rid of my fear of the ball, but Justin and I both benefited from all those afternoons playing catch, as Justin played outfielder in college, and I threw discus in high school. Just don't ask me to aim.

You would think he got his throwing arm from all those push-ups he did religiously every morning! Because he sure had a nice set of pipes! Justin and I were wondering if that could have been the reason he always rolled up his T-shirt sleeves - to show off his biceps! That and his wicked farmers tan! I bet you'll never see such a leathery forearm again in your whole life! His right arm remained as white as a ghost, but that left arm, he would hang out the truck window day in and day out! And I'm going to miss it.

When I was young I also remember my whole family planting a huge garden (well, huge for the suburbs, at least!). Carrots, green beans, tomatoes, radishes... My dad loved yard work in general. There is nothing in the world like fresh veggies from the garden. Dad loved a good salad, especially with lots of fresh tomatoes!

During my visit with Dad last month I picked up some tomatoes from the store, because nothing made me happier than to see him enjoy food. It seemed his loss of appetite seemed his biggest frustration, especially in those last weeks. All of us know how much he loved to eat! I always wished I had inherited his jet engine of a metabolism because he rarely ever ate less than three helpings at any given meal! Justin referred to Dad's typical buffet plate as a "train wreck". Who would have thought jello would go so well mixed with hamburger hotdish?! One thing is for sure, no container of leftovers ever stood a chance with my dad around!

I like to bake on occasion, and while I was still living at home I found a recipe for espresso brownies. Gotta satisfy that chocolate craving! The recipe called for instant coffee grounds. Well, I missed the "instant" part. Out of the oven, the brownies looked and smelled so good, and my dad asked if he could try one. You should have seen his face! The trooper ate the whole thing....but asked for a toothpick afterward!

One of my dad's favorite foods was grilled pork chops (which always turned out sort of dry, but nothing beats the charcoal taste). Well, and when you got Heinz 57 sauce slathered all over something it doesn't matter what you're eating!

He also liked JuJubees candy, grape juice, scrambled eggs with buttered toast, footlong hotdogs from the Minnesota State Fair (he prided himself in "putting away two footlongs" each year at the fair), and he loved Bridgemans' chocolate sodas. During the last few weeks of his life, though, Dad had one craving: rootbeer floats. And when he expressed the minutest intrest in a food – any food – you went with it. I will never forget sitting in his dimly lit room with him one night and sharing a rootbeer float together.

Dad also loved reading. Another trait he passed down. Whenever he had a book in his hand, it was usually either on history or theology. I used to go to him whenever I had a homework question on one of those two topics. I always expected a couple sentence answer, but who was I kidding?? An hour later...his gums still flapping and my head still nodding – and spinning.... I always got more answer than I bargained for! Sometimes I would play devil's advocate on a topic, and he would get all defensive and probably thought I was some heretic, and then I would try to convince him that I just wanted to look at the issue from all sides! There were some good debates started from just one little question! One topic I tried to steer clear of, however, was politics! Don't even want to get him started there!

Oh, and by the way, he told me he was planning on voting for Hillary this year. TOTALLY kidding!

The list just goes on and on. I could talk about how, in his youngster days, Dad looked a spitten image of Theodore Cleaver; a.k.a, “The Beave”. I could talk about a story I heard of when Dad relentlessly teased a neighborhood dog that was tied up and then when it broke loose and attacked him. I could mention his childhood fear of Catholic nuns walking down the block, and how he hid under the seats in a theater once while watching the Three stooges because he thought the fighting was real. I could talk about his “fat wallet” which contained little cash but volumes of notes, receipts, and addresses from decades past. (Justin called it his “hamburger wallet”.) I could mention Dad's – and my – worst ever pet peeve: wet socks. For both of us, slippers are/were a must. I could quote my dad's response to anyone offering him a chair, “No thanks. I spend all day sitting down; it's kind of a treat to stand.” (I don't know about you but I sit down all day at work also, but the more I sit, the more I want to lay down!) I could recall some favorite memories of my Dad when he would spend one whole day a year with me in school and interact with the kids in my class. I could talk about how he gave his mother salmon for Christmas every single year – don't ask. I could recall the funny songs he sang and silly games he played with us in the car during road trips. And I could describe the sight of my dad so thirsty that he would cup his hands at the kitchen faucet and drink for like half a minute.

I was so encouraged to hear that the night shift nurse who worked on my dad's wing is a believer. Throughout my dad's last night and into the early morning, I heard that Irene checked on him every ten minutes because she could tell he was fading. She checked to see if he was breathing, and if he was awake, she spoke with him, and on one occasion, she even prayed with him. How that heals a daughter's heart to know her father was so well taken care of in his last moments. And we know that the Lord must have poured out His grace upon my dad like never before, because that is what all of us were praying for. How merciful is our God to take Dad Home without too miserably long an illness that so many other cancer patients suffer through. He experienced very little pain, just some back pain in the last couple of days. He agonized over feeling weak and helpless, but even that is over. His pain has ended; his struggle is done.

The apostle Paul said in Philippians 1 that although he cared deeply about his relationships on this earth, he also wanted to go and be with the Lord because he knew it would be "far better" than life on this imperfect earth in this imperfect body. For those of us in Christ, we understand that our beloved relationships will continue into Eternity, and so death does not devastate us and leave us without hope as it does those without Christ.

I got the call about ten minutes after my dad passed, and my first thoughts were, "Praise God, no more suffering! He made it to the finish line and won the race. His faith has been perfected and God has completed his work in him!" All these Scriptures came flooding to my mind, and honestly, my heart was rejoicing too much to even cry. And now my tears stem from not losing my father, but missing him. Wishing for just one more conversation with him on some theology or history topic (but please no politics!) Wishing to be with him in Heaven, and yet wishing he could be here to join this awesome party - his own stinkin' party, after all!!!

We miss his presence, don't we? We miss his joyful spirit.

But he's glad for where he is, and he's glad he came precisely when he did. Life beyond this life is such a mystery to us, even knowing all of God's promises for the believer. But if we could but catch a glimpse of the peace and the worship and the happiness that is his at this moment, the beauties and pleasures of this world and this life would seem a drop in the bucket in comparison. The best gift God ever gave us was His glorious self. If we can just "get" that in this life, we would claw for what is to come. But we would also find ways to experience Him and to reflect Him while we're still living in this flesh. If my dad were standing up here today instead of me, I think that is what he would want all of you to know. He certainly did not live it out perfectly, but his unwavering faith in Christ kept him to the very end, and is keeping him even now.

I told him a couple weeks ago that soon his life just going to continue. He was simply going to step out of one world and into another, and I believe that is exactly what he did. God finished his work of faith in him just like He said.

I promised I would honor my dad's Christian legacy today, and I pray that he will continue to reap generations upon generations of believers. Neither my mom, Justin, Bekka, Jeromy, nor myself take that charge lightly. We will continue in his godly example.

We love my dad, and we praise God for the gift of Gary Nelson.