Tribute to Grandpa

This is some of what I said at Grandpa's graveside service on Wednesday:

Farrell Nielsen Anderson, 80, passed away Sunday, August 03, 2008, at his home in North Logan, Utah. He was born September 24, 1927, in Logan, Utah, to Cyrus and Violet Nielsen Anderson. His mom died when he was 8 years old and his dad later married Hazel. He grew up in College Ward. Farrell married Pauline J. Anderson on June 10, 1948 in the Salt Lake City Temple. They celebrated their 60 year anniversary this year. They lived in Providence, UT for 45 years.

I find an old photograph and see your smile.
As I feel your presence again, I am filled with warmth and my heart remembers love.
I remember who you used to be, the laughter we shared
I miss your being but I feel your presence,
Your spirit has become for me a guardian angel on high guiding, advising, and watching over me.
I remember you. You are with me and I am not afraid.

I know wherever Grandpa is right now he’s happy and content with what he left us. I imagine it was a great reunion on Sunday morning when Grandpa saw his Mom again after 72 years. Grandpa couldn’t talk to me this last week but I remember the last actual conversation I had with him. He was so excited about my new job and he told me that he loved me and that he was proud of me. Every time I saw him lately he asked me how each member of my family was doing and told me that he loved me and how proud of me he was. I don’t remember him doing that when I was younger. It is a change I saw in him the last couple of years. Grandpa was a man of few words and I don’t think it was easy for him to express his emotions like that. Every time I would visit him in the nursing home he would cry and I know he really hated for me to see it.

Grandpa and Grandma loved to travel and before Grandpa got sick they would frequently go places together. I have memories of spending Easter’s with them in Island Park at the condo and fishing with Grandpa in Yellowstone. They even went to Moab one year jeeping with the guys.

As most of you already know my grandpa really loved cars. Each time I bought a car I had to get right over for him to check it out and get his approval. Grandpa passed this love onto Dad, Jon, Tyler and Jaron. And even me if you take into account how many cars I’ve already owned. Grandpa and Grandma helped me get my first car. We needed another car and Dad had set a budget on how much we could afford to spend on it and of course nothing Dad found would meet Grandpa’s standards so he ended up helping with the payment. He bought it from Wilson’s and when it turned out to be a lemon, boy was he mad. He is the only person I know who has ever gotten a car dealership to take back a car after it was purchased and we then got another one (which I totaled, but that is a whole other story). Grandpa took such pride in his cars, in everything he owned really. I remember riding in the Packard and in the Cadillac with Grandma and Grandpa in the Labor Day parade in Wellsville.

I asked Grandpa one day how he knew what he wanted to do when he grew up. He said he never thought about it. He went on to tell me that soon after he was married he needed a job and went into Wilson Motor and asked if they had anything available. They were looking for someone to wash cars and he took it and worked his way up there for 35 years.

One day my Grandma Ila had hired me to wash her car. While I was in the process Grandpa and Grandma stopped by for a visit. I was quickly informed by Grandpa that I was doing it all wrong. I think he hand washed all of his cars at least once a week. I think one of the hardest things for him to deal with when his health started to decline was that he wasn’t able to take care of his cars and yard the way he liked too. The best part of that whole experience was that he washed the car and I got paid for it.

When I was in High School and College I always loved it when my schedule worked out so that I could get to Angie’s around 8:30 to have breakfast with Grandpa, Grandma, Jon and Dad. It was a pretty safe bet that either Dad or Grandpa would buy my breakfast and sometimes Grandpa would slip me $5 for gas. In the last few years they have started going to McDonald’s but back then it was always Angie’s.
Grandpa was a great listener. You could tell him anything and know he wouldn’t repeat it, because he never heard what you told him in the first place. If you spent any time with him then you know he couldn’t hear. This sometimes made it hard to carry on a conversation with him and I think it was a source of frustration for him. And if it wasn’t frustrating for him then it sure was for Grandma and the rest of us.

Grandpa was a hard worker and he passed this work ethic on to Dad, Jon and his grandkids. Dad and Jon are such hard workers and I honestly believe that between the 3 of them they could fix anything. When I was visiting him in the nursing home a few months ago Grandpa told me how proud he was of Dad and Jon and what wonderful men he thought they had become. He really appreciated all they did for him and the good care they take of Grandma. They are definitely a tribute to their Dad.
Grandma and Grandpa were devoted to each other for 60 years. Their world revolved around each other and I don’t think we were as attentive to them as we could have been because we knew they had each other. Grandma took amazing care of Grandpa and we as a family would like to thank her for that. We know it was a great burden for her to bear and that we weren’t as much help as we should have been. I know it was hard for her to watch him get sicker and weaker. I read a poem yesterday that I think describes how we felt Sunday morning.

God saw you getting tired,
When a cure was not to be.
So He wrapped his arms around you,
and whispered, "Come with me".
A golden heart stopped beating
Hard working hands laid at rest
God taking you proves to us,
He only takes the best
And though we loved you dearly
We could not make you stay
And when we saw you sleeping,
So peaceful and free from pain
We could not wish you back
To suffer that again.

As hard as it is for us to let Grandpa go, it was harder to see him suffer. And we are grateful that it didn’t go on any longer than it did. Brooklyn loves singing songs she makes up and she was singing one the other day about pioneers and when they died. Marijka asked her why she was singing about something so sad and Brooklyn answered, “But we aren’t sad that they went to heaven.” So today let us try to be happy that Grandpa has gone to heaven and isn’t suffering anymore.

We love you Grandpa. We appreciate the wonderful legacy that you have left us and we will miss you forever.

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.