Saturday, October 10, 2015
I've Moved!
This blog is entering retirement after many years as a wonderful outlet for my words and adventures. If you want to keep reading, head on over to my new blog, "Of Grace and Grit."
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Oakland's best kept secret
This summer I will have spent two whole years in Northern California! When I first arrived in Oakland, I felt like I had landed on another planet. It was chaotic, crowded, loud, dirty, and dangerous. Oakland is still most of those things two years on, but I usually see it through different eyes now. I even get defensive and a tiny bit proud when I talk about this city.
In China, whenever we were having a particularly tough day trying to make sense of the culture and environment around us, we would say we were having a "bad China day." I definitely have "bad Oakland days" as well, but they are moderated by so many highlights. First of all, I love my church community. To be a Christian in northern California is in some ways like China, too. Christianity is not a part of the culture, so if you find someone else who is a Christian, then you know they do not take their faith lightly. The people within in our church are incredibly generous, well-educated, and outwardly focused. They are making big waves in this community, but in a meaningful way.
Secondly, I never freeze here or have to scrape ice off my car. That saves me from plenty of frustration and frozen limbs and pricey winter wardrobes. Yes, it can get a bit monotonous with perpetual sunshine and 67 degree weather all year long, but I really can't complain much. Plus, that means you really don't need a gym membership. You can enjoy the weather and amazing scenery almost every day of the year by hiking, biking, and running at any of the nine million local, state, and national parks.
I also love the ease of my commute and the immediate access to any type of cuisine at any moment. I can walk out my door, hop on a ten minute bus ride, and end up at my office. My office is located right next to the BART train station, which means San Francisco is then also only about 17 minutes away. Most weekends Jeff and I have to debate about whether we'll eat Thai, Laotian, Indian, Vietnamese, Korean, etc. etc. for dinner. Too many choices right at our doorsteps.
My number one favorite thing about Oakland, however, is Lake Merritt, which sits right in the middle of Oakland. At about 3 miles in circumference, it is the largest urban salt lake in the country. It seems to be the glue that holds the city together, and the point from which you orient yourself to get around in the city. The lake is where East Oakland turns into West Oakland; where North Oakland turns into Central Oakland. On one side is my office. On another side is Jeff's apartment. And the two main streets, Grand and Lakeshore, provide more definition to the lake.
Apparently up until a few years ago, it wasn't nice. It was filled with trash, and you could get robbed at any time of the day. It still has a very urban, somewhat gritty feel, but it seems like life is really happening here. You feel alive. Everything and everyone you look at is full of color and vibrancy. Plus, it was here that Jeff and I began our weekly 3 mile runs together before we started dating. Ah, the memories.
After work I will walk back home along the edge of the lake or take the short 10 minute walk from my apartment to the lake on the weekends. I will trace my way along the hills of Easter egg-colored houses from the 1920s mixed in with condos from the 1960s, and a few coffee shops, laundromats, and tiny restaurants thrown in as well.
Once I set foot by the lake, I take in all the colorful souls around me. People come and park their cars along the street and just sit and chat outside of their cars. Some of them are playing drums or blasting samba music from their stereos. I have hypothesized that people come here to hang out instead of their own neighborhoods, because it is safer and more interesting. Hipsters slackline in between trees. Rowers glide across the murky surface of the water. The same man always sets up a blanket to try and sell items he has scavenged: random pairs of high heels, picture frames, and knick knacks. Elderly Chinese people slowly perform tai chi, although I have seen one very elderly lady a couple of times practicing leg kicks with such enthusiasm and force that it's a miracle she doesn't topple over. One man even had his 10 foot long pet snake out for some exercise. And tons of people of all ages and colors are jogging, walking, or lounging on the big blanket of grass.
San Francisco and Silicon Valley hipsters are discovering Oakland, so I am trying to enjoy Oakland just as it is for this season, as it might not last much longer like this! You're welcome to come visit me anytime! So in closing, I will leave you some pictures of Lake Merritt. I usually try not to take pictures on my phone in any other part of Oakland, because it is not uncommon for someone to relieve you of your phone if you have it out in the open... Oh, Oakland!
In China, whenever we were having a particularly tough day trying to make sense of the culture and environment around us, we would say we were having a "bad China day." I definitely have "bad Oakland days" as well, but they are moderated by so many highlights. First of all, I love my church community. To be a Christian in northern California is in some ways like China, too. Christianity is not a part of the culture, so if you find someone else who is a Christian, then you know they do not take their faith lightly. The people within in our church are incredibly generous, well-educated, and outwardly focused. They are making big waves in this community, but in a meaningful way.
Secondly, I never freeze here or have to scrape ice off my car. That saves me from plenty of frustration and frozen limbs and pricey winter wardrobes. Yes, it can get a bit monotonous with perpetual sunshine and 67 degree weather all year long, but I really can't complain much. Plus, that means you really don't need a gym membership. You can enjoy the weather and amazing scenery almost every day of the year by hiking, biking, and running at any of the nine million local, state, and national parks.
I also love the ease of my commute and the immediate access to any type of cuisine at any moment. I can walk out my door, hop on a ten minute bus ride, and end up at my office. My office is located right next to the BART train station, which means San Francisco is then also only about 17 minutes away. Most weekends Jeff and I have to debate about whether we'll eat Thai, Laotian, Indian, Vietnamese, Korean, etc. etc. for dinner. Too many choices right at our doorsteps.
My number one favorite thing about Oakland, however, is Lake Merritt, which sits right in the middle of Oakland. At about 3 miles in circumference, it is the largest urban salt lake in the country. It seems to be the glue that holds the city together, and the point from which you orient yourself to get around in the city. The lake is where East Oakland turns into West Oakland; where North Oakland turns into Central Oakland. On one side is my office. On another side is Jeff's apartment. And the two main streets, Grand and Lakeshore, provide more definition to the lake.
Apparently up until a few years ago, it wasn't nice. It was filled with trash, and you could get robbed at any time of the day. It still has a very urban, somewhat gritty feel, but it seems like life is really happening here. You feel alive. Everything and everyone you look at is full of color and vibrancy. Plus, it was here that Jeff and I began our weekly 3 mile runs together before we started dating. Ah, the memories.
After work I will walk back home along the edge of the lake or take the short 10 minute walk from my apartment to the lake on the weekends. I will trace my way along the hills of Easter egg-colored houses from the 1920s mixed in with condos from the 1960s, and a few coffee shops, laundromats, and tiny restaurants thrown in as well.
Once I set foot by the lake, I take in all the colorful souls around me. People come and park their cars along the street and just sit and chat outside of their cars. Some of them are playing drums or blasting samba music from their stereos. I have hypothesized that people come here to hang out instead of their own neighborhoods, because it is safer and more interesting. Hipsters slackline in between trees. Rowers glide across the murky surface of the water. The same man always sets up a blanket to try and sell items he has scavenged: random pairs of high heels, picture frames, and knick knacks. Elderly Chinese people slowly perform tai chi, although I have seen one very elderly lady a couple of times practicing leg kicks with such enthusiasm and force that it's a miracle she doesn't topple over. One man even had his 10 foot long pet snake out for some exercise. And tons of people of all ages and colors are jogging, walking, or lounging on the big blanket of grass.
San Francisco and Silicon Valley hipsters are discovering Oakland, so I am trying to enjoy Oakland just as it is for this season, as it might not last much longer like this! You're welcome to come visit me anytime! So in closing, I will leave you some pictures of Lake Merritt. I usually try not to take pictures on my phone in any other part of Oakland, because it is not uncommon for someone to relieve you of your phone if you have it out in the open... Oh, Oakland!
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Visitors from afar
I have lived the past 11 years away from family-- four years in Virginia, two years in China, 3 years in Indiana, and now over a year and a half in California. Sometimes I was only able to see my family once a year. I have always been incredibly close with my family, but how then have I lived geographically so distant from them all these years? Do I not really love them like I think I do? Am I neglecting them? Am I selfish person? I know all those things aren't true, but it still doesn't mean I don't miss them everyday.
They are probably the reason I have ventured out into the world to see, do, love, and learn so much. Knowing I have people in my life who will always support and challenge me to continually grow and become the woman God intended, has helped me explore the world and do things that most people in the middle of the Kansas prairie haven't even dreamed about. I'm not naturally a brave person, although I have always longed to experience new cultures, places, friendships, and jobs. Yet my family has encouraged me to step out in faith, take risks, and live life to the fullest.
Last month I was blessed with a visit from my Mom and Andrea. I took five work-free days to hang out with them. The three of us stayed cozily in my cute little studio by Lake Merritt, which Andrea loved walking around nearly every day. They helped me see Oakland through new eyes, while also helping me accomplish a lot of things on my wedding checklist. Andrea made us stop and smell just about every gorgeous flower in bloom, and both Mom and Andrea seemed to make Oakland a happier place. They radiate a joy and happiness that can cheer up the gloomiest soul in Oakland. I was surprised at how many people smiled and said "good morning" to us when we were trekking all around the Bay Area. Hmmm... Maybe I could smile a little bit more too.
Here's a little snapshot of some of the fun:
Visiting the Golden Gate bridge up close.
Had a nice little jaunt around Muir Woods.
Andrea, one of my helpers at the wedding dress boutique in Berkeley.
The moms meet for the first time in Chinatown!
Eating at hole-in-the hole Geta Sushi in Oakland, where we ate about five pounds of amazing sushi.
And hiked some more in Redwood Regional Park!
They are probably the reason I have ventured out into the world to see, do, love, and learn so much. Knowing I have people in my life who will always support and challenge me to continually grow and become the woman God intended, has helped me explore the world and do things that most people in the middle of the Kansas prairie haven't even dreamed about. I'm not naturally a brave person, although I have always longed to experience new cultures, places, friendships, and jobs. Yet my family has encouraged me to step out in faith, take risks, and live life to the fullest.
Last month I was blessed with a visit from my Mom and Andrea. I took five work-free days to hang out with them. The three of us stayed cozily in my cute little studio by Lake Merritt, which Andrea loved walking around nearly every day. They helped me see Oakland through new eyes, while also helping me accomplish a lot of things on my wedding checklist. Andrea made us stop and smell just about every gorgeous flower in bloom, and both Mom and Andrea seemed to make Oakland a happier place. They radiate a joy and happiness that can cheer up the gloomiest soul in Oakland. I was surprised at how many people smiled and said "good morning" to us when we were trekking all around the Bay Area. Hmmm... Maybe I could smile a little bit more too.
Here's a little snapshot of some of the fun:
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
A worthy journey
Once again, I apologize for my lengthy absence from this illustrious blog! I haven't had as much time to be introspective as I usually do, since I am in the midst of tax season AND am preparing for getting married AND just lose track of time in my advanced age of 28.6. Anyway, here I am, so I hope there are no hard feelings.
The question most often on people's minds these days seems to be, "How's wedding planning?" Here are some possible answers, depending on my mood or the circumstances of the day:
"It's going well! Things are coming right along!"
"It's hard to plan for something that seems so far away."
"I am learning lots of useful life skills, such as what a chiavari chair is."
"I'm enjoying it."
"We are checking things off our list right and left."
"No comment."
Overall, wedding planning is going quite well. Jeff is a great planner, and we both have our strengths for different pieces of the puzzle which complement each other. And wedding planning does indeed seem to often be one giant puzzle to me. Why is everything so expensive? How did the wedding industry become so... like an industry? And why does everyone trying to sell you something in this industry seem so high strung? Do we really need 12 settings of fine china on our registry? Do these color palettes go together?
Thankfully I know that it will all come together. A wedding is just one day, while marriage will last much longer. We have been preparing for this big step in other ways besides sending out save the dates and adding items to the wedding registry. We have started premarital counseling with one of our pastors and have just wrapped up a study of Timothy Keller's outstanding book, The Meaning of Marriage. We have been reading and discussing the book with other couples, some of them not married, some of them married. I know I have gleaned a tremendous amount of wisdom, and just have been soaking up advice. Last, but 900% not least, we have been spending time praying and reading the Word.
Probably nothing can really prepare us for what's next, but at least we both have Jesus! The wedding day is not an end point that we are trying to survive until, but just the very beginning of a worthy journey toward our final day when our glory selves are revealed before the throne of Christ.
The question most often on people's minds these days seems to be, "How's wedding planning?" Here are some possible answers, depending on my mood or the circumstances of the day:
"It's going well! Things are coming right along!"
"It's hard to plan for something that seems so far away."
"I am learning lots of useful life skills, such as what a chiavari chair is."
"I'm enjoying it."
"We are checking things off our list right and left."
"No comment."
Overall, wedding planning is going quite well. Jeff is a great planner, and we both have our strengths for different pieces of the puzzle which complement each other. And wedding planning does indeed seem to often be one giant puzzle to me. Why is everything so expensive? How did the wedding industry become so... like an industry? And why does everyone trying to sell you something in this industry seem so high strung? Do we really need 12 settings of fine china on our registry? Do these color palettes go together?
Thankfully I know that it will all come together. A wedding is just one day, while marriage will last much longer. We have been preparing for this big step in other ways besides sending out save the dates and adding items to the wedding registry. We have started premarital counseling with one of our pastors and have just wrapped up a study of Timothy Keller's outstanding book, The Meaning of Marriage. We have been reading and discussing the book with other couples, some of them not married, some of them married. I know I have gleaned a tremendous amount of wisdom, and just have been soaking up advice. Last, but 900% not least, we have been spending time praying and reading the Word.
Probably nothing can really prepare us for what's next, but at least we both have Jesus! The wedding day is not an end point that we are trying to survive until, but just the very beginning of a worthy journey toward our final day when our glory selves are revealed before the throne of Christ.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
A tale of two loves
It is 2015! TWO
THOUSAND FIFTEEN. When and how did that
happen? Wasn’t Y2K just yesterday? Life is entirely different than just a couple
of weeks ago when Jeff and I headed to Kansas to spend Christmas with my
family. The holidays ended up being
filled with more events and emotions than I could have ever expected when we
stepped on the plane heading east.
There were two main characters from the holidays that stood out the most: Jeff (my now-fiance) and Jerry (my grandfather). I’ll start with Jeff.
In Topeka he met my family, experienced a traditional Christmas on the prairie, and met many important people in my life. Nearly every neighbor and family friend nicely threatened him to take good care of me, as I was a very special person. Yet he never flinched or wavered from wanting to make me a more permanent part of his life.
On Christmas Day we all served at the Topeka Rescue Mission, where my mom works. The Mission is a fixture in both the Christian and Topeka community, as it is the only shelter for those who are homeless or struggling immensely in poverty or substance abuse. It was, by far, the best possible way to spend Christmas Day. Nearly 500 people came to the Mission for a warm meal and gifts. Those who came through the door were of every shape, color, and age. Their need and the community’s generosity brought me to the verge of tears many times that day. Jeff and I prayed for guests who wanted prayer, and meandered around helping with other odds and ends. After a few hours, we headed home earlier than my other family members.
Then Jeff said he had a gift for me. He had asked (and apparently received) my Mom’s permission to marry me! He started to play a worship song through Pandora and then gave me a Christmas-y box to open. It had four coupons he made for me: 1 special letter, 1 hug, 1 “I love you,” and 1 gift at the bottom of the box. That gift was a gorgeous engagement ring. He pulled out a bonus “1 hand in marriage” coupon from his pocket, took the ring, and got down on one knee. Right then, a commercial played on Pandora, perkily advertising for a mattress sale at Macy’s! I couldn’t stop laughing. Later he grumbled about why on earth he didn’t pay the extra $3.99 to get commercial-free radio. But after we composed ourselves, he asked if I would marry him, and I said “Yes!”
I am looking forward to marrying Jeff, who loves me dearly and loves Jesus even more. His character, missions-minded heart, humor, humility, easy-going attitude, and super hot body made it pretty easy to say yes to being his wife! I will provide more details on future plans in the near future, but I’d like to talk about another love in my life, Jerrold Gearhart or “Grandpa G.”
Later that day—still Christmas Day—we received the news from my grandma that Grandpa G. had passed away peacefully in Rochester. He had gotten pneumonia earlier in December, seemed to get better for a short while, and then declined again. He also had dementia for the past three years So on Christmas Day, Grandma was still sitting by his side, holding his hand, as he went to celebrate Jesus’ birthday with Him in heaven. Most of his children and grandchildren in far-flung places, including us, had choked out our goodbyes over the phone to him a couple days before. Grandpa was one of my favorite and dearest people on earth. He had lived his 92 years with great purpose and love. Losing him left me feeling cold and numb.
A few days later we jumped in the car and drove 1200 miles northeast to frigid upstate New York, arriving on New Year’s Eve. My entire extended family from seven different states also arrived for his funeral. It was bittersweet to see my family members, while knowing that Grandpa G. wasn’t there with us in person, regaling us with his witty comments, corny jokes, and clever ditties or songs.
At 10 a.m. on the most beautiful, snowy Friday morning, we laid Grandpa to rest at the Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Rochester. Although I knew Grandpa was in heaven, it was still incredibly painful and sad to see his American flag-draped coffin being carried by my cousins to his final resting place on earth. Four active duty Marines in their dress blues saluted as they carried the casket to the tent that blocked us all from the snow and cold. Grandpa had been a decorated Marine Corps bomber pilot in World War II nearly 70 years ago. And so the Marine Corps Honor Guard stood there with their faces and hands freezing off, in order to respectfully send Grandpa on his way.
A deacon led us in a couple of prayers and said a few words, which I don’t really remember. Petite little Grandma G. bravely stood there in her black coat and cute white hat. Two Marines came over to the coffin to solemnly fold the flag into a triangle while one Marine played “Taps.” One of them walked to Grandma, handed her the flag, saluted, and then told her the nation grieved for this loss and thanked Grandpa for his incredible service to both God and country. How could anyone not burst into a flood of tears?
Then Grandma walked up to the casket, placed her hand on it and said in her typical fashion, “I haven’t done this before, Jerry, and don’t know what to say, but thank you for a wonderful 62 years. Or was it 63?” Afterwards we all slowly made our way back to the cars, right as the snow stopped and the sun peeked out from the wall of gray clouds. Grandpa was in a better place with his Savior, surrounded by his mother, father, and sisters, all while knowing he had left earth better off with four amazing children and eight grandchildren.
Only family members were at the cemetery, so we all headed to the funeral home for a memorial service, where 100 old neighbors, friends, and colleagues showed up to honor such a beloved man. My professional musician cousin, Eric, played the violin, and people came to the front to share humorous and poignant memories of their father, grandfather, and friend. I listened, proud and enraptured, as colleagues from Kodak, where Grandpa worked for 35 years, shared about the “most brilliant chemical engineer” at all of Kodak. Kodak used to employ 60,000 people in Rochester before the company disintegrated in the late 1990s. They talked about how his patent made it possible for a huge Kodak Colorama sign to hang in Times Square for many years, how he was a problem solver who could solve problems no one else could, and how he taught many younger engineers everything they knew.
Then Andrea and I went up to talk about Grandpa. I went first, talking about how he never cut corners and how I loved spending weeks at a time with him during the summers in Kansas and on Cape Cod. He helped explain my trigonometry homework to me when I only wanted the answers, he made us walk seemingly for miles on the beach at Cape Cod to find the perfect spot, he fulfilled his childhood dream by going to Antarctica for a month on a Russian icebreaker when he was 71 years old, and he always lamented that guys these days were blind and dumb for not dating or marrying me. I shared a bit more about his love and care for us, and how it was fitting that I waited for just the right man he would want me to be with and became engaged on the very day that he went to heaven. Maybe he knew that his task of watching out for the Freeze girls was coming to the end, as Jamie and Jeff now had that role for Andrea and me.
Andrea next talked sweetly about her 20 year journey as Grandpa’s apple pie apprentice. From the age of 3, Grandpa taught Andrea how to make the best apple pie on earth. As the years progressed, she was given more and more responsibilities when making an apple pie together. For the last pie she made with him on Thanksgiving 2010, he just watched and gave some advice while she made the whole pie. She had graduated as a fully-credited apple pie maker, and Grandpa was proud. She also would miss his stories, humor, intelligence, hugs, and big precious eyes that could make anyone melt.
After the service, so many people stayed to chat. It was a happy crowd. No one was happy Grandpa was gone, but they were delighted to have known him and learned from him and been in his life. The mostly white-haired crowd milled about in their reserved, dignified, and well-dressed Rochesterian way, hugging my Grandma, laughing about some ski club story, or looking at pictures of him throughout his life. It was a fitting way to celebrate one the dearest men in my life. For 28 years he was there for me and my family, especially after my parents divorced. He taught me so many things, encouraged me, challenged me, and delighted in his rediscovered Christian faith.
I love you, Grandpa, and will never forget you! Thank you for teaching me to be loved and how to love. I hope and pray I will live a worthwhile life like you. And I’ll see you very soon once this short life has come to an end.
Jerrold J. Gearhart: September 29, 1922- December 25, 2014
There were two main characters from the holidays that stood out the most: Jeff (my now-fiance) and Jerry (my grandfather). I’ll start with Jeff.
In Topeka he met my family, experienced a traditional Christmas on the prairie, and met many important people in my life. Nearly every neighbor and family friend nicely threatened him to take good care of me, as I was a very special person. Yet he never flinched or wavered from wanting to make me a more permanent part of his life.
On Christmas Day we all served at the Topeka Rescue Mission, where my mom works. The Mission is a fixture in both the Christian and Topeka community, as it is the only shelter for those who are homeless or struggling immensely in poverty or substance abuse. It was, by far, the best possible way to spend Christmas Day. Nearly 500 people came to the Mission for a warm meal and gifts. Those who came through the door were of every shape, color, and age. Their need and the community’s generosity brought me to the verge of tears many times that day. Jeff and I prayed for guests who wanted prayer, and meandered around helping with other odds and ends. After a few hours, we headed home earlier than my other family members.
Then Jeff said he had a gift for me. He had asked (and apparently received) my Mom’s permission to marry me! He started to play a worship song through Pandora and then gave me a Christmas-y box to open. It had four coupons he made for me: 1 special letter, 1 hug, 1 “I love you,” and 1 gift at the bottom of the box. That gift was a gorgeous engagement ring. He pulled out a bonus “1 hand in marriage” coupon from his pocket, took the ring, and got down on one knee. Right then, a commercial played on Pandora, perkily advertising for a mattress sale at Macy’s! I couldn’t stop laughing. Later he grumbled about why on earth he didn’t pay the extra $3.99 to get commercial-free radio. But after we composed ourselves, he asked if I would marry him, and I said “Yes!”
I am looking forward to marrying Jeff, who loves me dearly and loves Jesus even more. His character, missions-minded heart, humor, humility, easy-going attitude, and super hot body made it pretty easy to say yes to being his wife! I will provide more details on future plans in the near future, but I’d like to talk about another love in my life, Jerrold Gearhart or “Grandpa G.”
Later that day—still Christmas Day—we received the news from my grandma that Grandpa G. had passed away peacefully in Rochester. He had gotten pneumonia earlier in December, seemed to get better for a short while, and then declined again. He also had dementia for the past three years So on Christmas Day, Grandma was still sitting by his side, holding his hand, as he went to celebrate Jesus’ birthday with Him in heaven. Most of his children and grandchildren in far-flung places, including us, had choked out our goodbyes over the phone to him a couple days before. Grandpa was one of my favorite and dearest people on earth. He had lived his 92 years with great purpose and love. Losing him left me feeling cold and numb.
A few days later we jumped in the car and drove 1200 miles northeast to frigid upstate New York, arriving on New Year’s Eve. My entire extended family from seven different states also arrived for his funeral. It was bittersweet to see my family members, while knowing that Grandpa G. wasn’t there with us in person, regaling us with his witty comments, corny jokes, and clever ditties or songs.
At 10 a.m. on the most beautiful, snowy Friday morning, we laid Grandpa to rest at the Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Rochester. Although I knew Grandpa was in heaven, it was still incredibly painful and sad to see his American flag-draped coffin being carried by my cousins to his final resting place on earth. Four active duty Marines in their dress blues saluted as they carried the casket to the tent that blocked us all from the snow and cold. Grandpa had been a decorated Marine Corps bomber pilot in World War II nearly 70 years ago. And so the Marine Corps Honor Guard stood there with their faces and hands freezing off, in order to respectfully send Grandpa on his way.
A deacon led us in a couple of prayers and said a few words, which I don’t really remember. Petite little Grandma G. bravely stood there in her black coat and cute white hat. Two Marines came over to the coffin to solemnly fold the flag into a triangle while one Marine played “Taps.” One of them walked to Grandma, handed her the flag, saluted, and then told her the nation grieved for this loss and thanked Grandpa for his incredible service to both God and country. How could anyone not burst into a flood of tears?
Then Grandma walked up to the casket, placed her hand on it and said in her typical fashion, “I haven’t done this before, Jerry, and don’t know what to say, but thank you for a wonderful 62 years. Or was it 63?” Afterwards we all slowly made our way back to the cars, right as the snow stopped and the sun peeked out from the wall of gray clouds. Grandpa was in a better place with his Savior, surrounded by his mother, father, and sisters, all while knowing he had left earth better off with four amazing children and eight grandchildren.
Only family members were at the cemetery, so we all headed to the funeral home for a memorial service, where 100 old neighbors, friends, and colleagues showed up to honor such a beloved man. My professional musician cousin, Eric, played the violin, and people came to the front to share humorous and poignant memories of their father, grandfather, and friend. I listened, proud and enraptured, as colleagues from Kodak, where Grandpa worked for 35 years, shared about the “most brilliant chemical engineer” at all of Kodak. Kodak used to employ 60,000 people in Rochester before the company disintegrated in the late 1990s. They talked about how his patent made it possible for a huge Kodak Colorama sign to hang in Times Square for many years, how he was a problem solver who could solve problems no one else could, and how he taught many younger engineers everything they knew.
Then Andrea and I went up to talk about Grandpa. I went first, talking about how he never cut corners and how I loved spending weeks at a time with him during the summers in Kansas and on Cape Cod. He helped explain my trigonometry homework to me when I only wanted the answers, he made us walk seemingly for miles on the beach at Cape Cod to find the perfect spot, he fulfilled his childhood dream by going to Antarctica for a month on a Russian icebreaker when he was 71 years old, and he always lamented that guys these days were blind and dumb for not dating or marrying me. I shared a bit more about his love and care for us, and how it was fitting that I waited for just the right man he would want me to be with and became engaged on the very day that he went to heaven. Maybe he knew that his task of watching out for the Freeze girls was coming to the end, as Jamie and Jeff now had that role for Andrea and me.
Andrea next talked sweetly about her 20 year journey as Grandpa’s apple pie apprentice. From the age of 3, Grandpa taught Andrea how to make the best apple pie on earth. As the years progressed, she was given more and more responsibilities when making an apple pie together. For the last pie she made with him on Thanksgiving 2010, he just watched and gave some advice while she made the whole pie. She had graduated as a fully-credited apple pie maker, and Grandpa was proud. She also would miss his stories, humor, intelligence, hugs, and big precious eyes that could make anyone melt.
After the service, so many people stayed to chat. It was a happy crowd. No one was happy Grandpa was gone, but they were delighted to have known him and learned from him and been in his life. The mostly white-haired crowd milled about in their reserved, dignified, and well-dressed Rochesterian way, hugging my Grandma, laughing about some ski club story, or looking at pictures of him throughout his life. It was a fitting way to celebrate one the dearest men in my life. For 28 years he was there for me and my family, especially after my parents divorced. He taught me so many things, encouraged me, challenged me, and delighted in his rediscovered Christian faith.
I love you, Grandpa, and will never forget you! Thank you for teaching me to be loved and how to love. I hope and pray I will live a worthwhile life like you. And I’ll see you very soon once this short life has come to an end.
Jerrold J. Gearhart: September 29, 1922- December 25, 2014
Will dearly miss this handsome man! Grandpa on his sailboat in the 1980s.
Grandpa visited us often in Kansas and we always had the best time!
Andrea showing off the dollhouse Grandpa built for her.
The Thanksgiving when Grandpa and Andrea made their last apple pie.
All the family gathered in Rochester.
Andrea and Laura with their beaus on Christmas Eve.
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