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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