Saying Goodbye to Grandpa

(4 Generations of Carl Schoenebergs)

Yesterday we celebrated my grandpa's life and said goodbye. The visitation was full of family and sweet friends. The service made special note of Grandpa's character and ability as a craftsman. And at the burial he was given full military honors. For me, that was the most emotional part; to watch people who did not know him at all, honor him for serving as a pilot during WWII. It was so long ago, and not a part of his life we knew, but it was not forgotten by our country. It made Grandpa's life seem a lot bigger than our family, which was true beyond just his military service, but something I took for granted. He was just my grandpa to me.

Many sweet words about Grandpa were shared yesterday. Here's what I shared during the service:

In my childhood memories, Grandpa is kind of like a magician. He had a magical workshop full of big scary tools, and various projects in different stages of completion. My brother and I would scour the workshop floor, collecting scraps of wood and metal that seemed like little treasures. (I think that's how Grandpa got us to clean up his workshop for him.) Grandpa could make anything.

Grandpa's garage was full of antique cars and a huge RV that we spent hours in, pretending to drive across the country, making up CB handles while playing cards and drinking pretend sodas out of colorful aluminum cups. Sometimes Grandpa would even take us out for a ride around the neighborhood in one of the cars he was working on. I didn't really understand why, but the ride was better than a roller coaster and I felt like a Princess in the back seat with Grandpa as my chauffeur.

Every time we came over, the projects were a little more complete, the cars looked a little more like cars and when we were really lucky, Grandpa had a project he wanted to work on with us. It was sweet time when you got to be the magician's assistant. As I got older I understood that the magic was really just Grandpa's creativity and hard work. What he did he did well, and he loved it.

His greatest, most treasured creation was his family. He loved Grandma dearly, and every thing he did was out of devotion to her. He was devoted to all of us. And in recent years, when Grandpa couldn't hear so well, and didn't have as much to say, you could still see it on his face. He'd get this little smile and reach out his hand to give the nearest great-grandchild a squeeze or a tickle.

I think what God wants most from all of us (as part of faith in Him) is to try to love each other well. And I think grandpa really tried his best to do that, and to teach his family to do the same. He taught us to respect every single person we come into contact with, to be kind, to be generous, humble, and to lead lives of integrity.

I treasure the memories of the magic, but these lessons; the lessons about how to love well, are his greatest gift to us.