Saying goodbye

Last week my great-grandpa Clarence died.  He was 99 years old; born in 1910 and died in 2010, just 4 months away from his 100th birthday.

Friday we went to his visitation at a funeral home in Marshalltown.  We took the kids.  It was nice because it was a celebration of his life, a life well-lived.  We got the chance to reconnect with family and see friends we hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Jude and Jett had a lot of questions about Grandpa Clarence and how he died, questions about death in general.

On the way to the visitation, Jett said in the saddest tone: “He was my most famous guy.  He was the funniest guy I met in my life.”

The boys had not seen Grandpa Clarence in about 2 years and when they did, I doubt that Grandpa Clarence made that much of an impression on him.  They would have been about 3 and 2 years old.

Jude said, “I’m sad that Grandpa Clarence died, I’m going to miss him so much.”

They were sad that someone in our family passed away.  It was sweet.

Saturday morning was his funeral at the church in Conrad where he attended.  It was such a nice funeral, very well attended for as old as he was.  A lot of family, too. 

Grandpa Clarence loved playing the fiddle throughout his life.  Part of the service included two of his much younger friends playing bluegrass music – a fiddle and guitar – first a somewhat sorrowful song, then “Amazing Grace” and then “You are my Sunshine”.  The congregation was toe-tapping and clapping its hands during the last selection.  It was sweet, just what he would have wanted. 

When Grandpa Clarence was 95 years old, one of the guys who played during the funeral helped him record a CD of Grandpa Clarence on the fiddle.  It was played as the funeral began and ended.  Grandpa Clarence attended jam sessions weekly for years – he loved getting together and playing music with others.

He was such a special man who left a lot of people to mourn his passing, grateful to have known him.