Lloyd Morris Guthrie
My grandfather, Lloyd Morris Guthrie, passed away on Friday June 17, 2011. He suffered a fatal heart attack while riding his bike up a hill from Lehi to Draper. A passer by stopped, called 911 and began CPR, but it was too late. The paramedics and the doctors did all they could, but sadly he had already left this world for good.
A viewing and a funeral was held on Monday June 20, 2011. Craig, my mom and I prepared the programs-- Craig actually did all the work, my mom and I picked out paper, proof read and help to fold and cut. I spoke at his funeral along with my aunt. My cousin played a piano arrangement, which was absolutely beautiful.
I didn't realize how much I would miss this man till now. I truly grew to admire him in so many ways. I struggle to find peace with everything. I find I can continue normally if only I not think about it, but then I see a biker on the street or a commercial talking about heart health and a rush of sadness comes over me. I have now lost both grandpa's that I grew up with and I never realized how lonely that would feel. I feel like a piece of me is gone.
I know as time goes on my heart will ache less, but I'm sure the pain of loosing him will never completely go away until I see him again. Either at the Second Coming or when I too pass on.
Here is the talk I prepared for those who would like to read it:
I got permission from Craig to post the talk here and he said it was alright with him. ;)
I don't feel I deserve the honor of speaking at this funeral today because for so many years I feel I misjudged the man I call grandpa. Or at least I didn't see all that he was. But I felt a real need to take part in the services today, and my grandma graciously allowed me too. I hope by doing so I can make up for those years that I misread my Grandpa Guthrie.
I really feel like I knew two different grandpa's. There's the grandpa I knew when I was younger, and there's the grandpa I was just getting to know as a wife and a mother. The grandpa I knew, or thought I knew, when I was younger was bold and blunt. He seemed to have such a hard exterior and to be so opposite of me. I was a hopeless romantic with a love for fairy tales and fantasy. My grandpa was very rooted in the real world. My life choices probably seemed illogical and strange to him. We seemed to disagree at every turn. If you had told the younger me that I would be here speaking at grandpa's funeral I probably would have rolled my eyes in disbelief.
I thought I knew the man, but I didn't. I wish I had known sooner just how wrong I was about him.
As I grew up, and out of my teenage years, I met a man, we married in the temple and we had three kids. Suddenly I got to know a different grandpa. He was proud of me and my choices. Gone were the lectures and simple, enjoyable visits took their place. I felt now I could just talk to him person to person, parent to parent, granddaughter to grandfather.
But the true realization of who my grandfather really was, and still is, came when he talked about his children. Most importantly: My Mom. He told the story of when she left her first husband. How she called him not knowing what to do. She had a baby, no money and she lived 800 miles away. He told her she had better just come home. As he told the story there was no sound of disappointment in his voice. Not a hint of “I told you so.” In fact the only thing I felt was the pride he had for his daughter and how he knew that what she did took true strength. Soon after she left her husband died and he told of how he felt such a need to protect her while funeral arrangements were made.
Now, my mother and my grandpa didn't always get along. I'm sure he didn't always agree with her decisions. But that isn't what mattered to grandpa. What mattered was family. Not only that, but having them safe and protected. I then realized that everything that man did in life, good or bad, was to just that. To keep his family safe and protected.
I used to think that grandpa was the last person you would want to turn to when you were down and out. But I now know, no matter what decisions you've made, grandpa would always welcome you home with open arms-- or in his case a side hug and a kiss on the cheek. And no matter what the need he would do what he could to get you back on your feet. He wasn't the one to avoid. He was the one to go to. He had a forgiving heart, and he would never turn his family away.
My own time of need came not too long ago. I hope my husband can forgive my for telling this story, but it is one I would really like to share with you. I was home one evening, with the kids, cooking dinner when I received a phone call. On the other end of the line was my mother in law. She informed me that Craig, my husband, had been arrested. He had an unpaid parking ticket, which he thought he had taken care of, and it finally caught up with him. I felt so lost. I didn't know what money we had and I knew it certainly wouldn't be what we needed. I couldn't think straight. I could barely wrap my mind around it. I never felt so alone. I just wanted my husband home but my parents were out of town and my in laws live 250 miles away. I could not think of anyone else who could help. I then told my mother in law, “I'll call my grandpa.”
Now if you had told my teenage self that I would say that, in this situation, you most definitely would have gotten an eye roll.
I dialed his number. He picked up and I just began to cry, “Craig's been arrested and I don't know what to do.”
Him, and grandma, quickly came to my side. Grandpa made all the phone calls and he helped me get my husband out of jail.
I realize now that my grandpa and I are not so much opposites as we are a like. We both have tempers that we tend to loose. We both let our emotions get the better of us. And we both do and say the wrong thing from time to time. What I didn't understand, as young teenager, was that we both also feel incredibly sorry when we have wronged, been hurtful or hard.
I wish I had realized sooner just who my grandpa was. I feel I was just getting to know the man and now he has been taken away. In some ways it seems so unfair or surreal. I kept hoping that we would get another call saying he had been revived. That we would all be standing around his hospital bed that night, not planning a funeral. I was hoping that I still had a chance to continue to get to know him. I guess at least I can find peace in knowing I caught a true glimpse of this amazing man.
As we prepared things for the funeral I caught sight of his military discharge papers. I read, “Honorable Discharge”. I thought to myself, “Of course it was. Everything that man did was honorable and honest.”
He was a valiant servant to the end, and now the Lord has called his valiant servant home. I'm sure he will continue to serve him well.
I am sad to see my grandpa go. How I wish I could have just one more visit with him. But I know there were others anxiously awaiting his arrival on the other side. Perhaps now my brother, who passed away so long ago, can get to know grandpa as I have.
I love you grandpa! And I will always miss you! But I know one day we will have time to visit once more. And I can continue to get to you again.
I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
