28 In His Everlasting Love

Day 28 - February 16

The night before, Harold Martin revealed he’d traveled with no overcoat, not having one suitable to wear over suits. Temperatures between ten and eighteen degrees Fahrenheit were predicted for the gravesite ceremony after the funeral. Harold suggested his youngest son take a look at his grandfather’s overcoat. With the rest of us sincerely doubting this solution, Harold M. slipped his arms into father’s dark overcoat, only to discover it fit perfectly.

Randy brings the Christian flag from his church in Canandaigua to drape on the casket for the service. Representatives from the church of Poland arrive to pay tribute in a special viewing before the proceedings begin.

For a very long time, I have experienced family as our small group which maxes out at five, plus father. This afternoon I feel family in long rows all around us.

Friends throughout the auditorium travel to Toronto with father as they view the musical slideshow overhead. They plant his garden and attend his birthday parties. They peek in on our thirtieth anniversary vow renewal service, officiated by father. They remember the taste of his strawberry pies and blueberry pancakes. They learn father was a gunner in the air over Italy in World War II as they read his bio. They gather to celebrate his life.

Matt and Harold Martin, then Ron and Walt Gretz, and finally Bobby and Brett, line up to bear father into the ceremony. A flank of honorary pall bearers follow, men who lifted father up in life, and who in return had been lifted up by father.

In an Elim Fellowship newsletter the next week, bullet-points will highlight the service:

--“He was a Gentle Giant.”
--“Uncle Chester was like a quiet river that flowed very deep.”
--“Chet taught us that love always wins.”
--“Everyone felt special around Chet.”
--“He taught me how to give.”
--“His significance came from making others successful.”
--“He loved his Dr. Pepper!”

His ninety-three year old dear friend of many years, Carlton Spencer, sent an email to father in his last week. With dramatic expression, conveying Carlton’s love in every sentence, the pastor brings his letter to life:

Thanks in our Lord, Chester, for your phone call this morning.

I have been debating how best to reach you and was going to call David or Marie to find out, when I received your call. You report that your doctors are giving you, “not many” days before you join Mary Ruth in the presence of our Lord! Please take my loving greetings to her and to Elizabeth! I’m on my way Home--but do not know when He will call.

David and Marie report that you speak occasionally of our times together--our travel by car into the night and our escapades in the plane. You have flown with much better pilots than I, while in the military and of course in commercial aviation. I attempted to be a pilot while you prayed! And the Lord preserved us through all our journeys. Praise Him! And, I remember you taking my VW on a Western trip on Elim’s behalf--and got converted to VW’s. If we were together we could do a lot of reminiscing. Right? I am sorry that I am so far away at this point in your life.

I also recall your conviction and call from above, when you first joined us at Elim --my first year as president-- and yours as Dean. Together we faced the challenges in those ensuing years. You stood by me. We stood together, as we watched the Lord intervene for us time after time, including the transition of Elim from Hornell to Lima. You were a true brother throughout those years. Thank God, Chet, for those grand recollections and your loyalty all the way! You have been a stalwart in integrity, Christ-likeness and brotherly love at all times!

And our unity did not end there--it continued while you served in the pastorates and in your years in Eastern Europe. I’ve not forgotten your trip from Germany to a distant airport, to bring my passport, which I had left on a shelf at your home. Through the years our lives have been intertwined--and I am grateful to God for you and for your loving faithfulness which proved itself in the occasions when in a loving spirit you corrected when I failed. A real brother! Thanks, again!

Our times together have been few in these more recent years, but I am glad that you lived so close to David and Marie, where in my stead they could serve you, and you serve them! Thank God you have been knit with me and my family through the years. All of mine love you, as do all whom you served, at and through Elim and elsewhere…

How can I say Farewell ?

I wish I could be with you now--and share in your farewell service, but age is telling on me also. Your 84th birthday is in May, and my 94th follows in July. Together we have seen God’s good hand over and over again--in fact continuously for nearly sixty years. God has been good to us and our families. So glad you have yours with you now. Please, greet each of them for me.

Au revoir, my beloved brother -- “Till we meet at Jesus feet…”

In His everlasting love,

Carlton

Speakers and eulogies continue, providing insights, humor and inspiration. We break down during the hymn, “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” just before the pall bearers lead father down the aisle. Outside, they replace the Christian flag with the American flag for the ride to the cemetery and the closing gathering at the grave.

Uncharacteristic of an Elim funeral, we end right on time. Not expecting such timeliness, the funeral director has advised the Honor Guard of a later meeting time at the cemetery.

We wait in the row of cars for the young men in uniform to arrive, while the pall bearers stand outside by the hearse. Sun shines brightly over the snow covered fields all around. The crisp cold uses the sun to focus each tree, stone and pine needle with a fine-tuned clarity against the white back-drop. Through the car window I watch Harold Martin and Matt in their suits and overcoats, by father’s side. They don’t even feel the bitter cold as they wait the twenty minutes. Rather, they know duty and love, focus and companionship, with Ron, Walt, Bobby and Brett, as they prepare for father’s last journey.

“On behalf of the President of the United States, we thank you for your father’s service to his country,” the young man kneels as he hands me the meticulously folded flag. Aunt Anne sniffles and tear droplets try to freeze on our faces. Taps play and echo in the snowy woods.

Brett holds my elbow as I navigate back to the car. Then he disappears, back to Virginia Beach again.

Everyone else dines at the church on one of Esther’s specialties.

Near the end of dinner I stop at Nancy and Floyd’s table. Floyd is clearing and cleaning up the area. “See, I’m being like Bobby, helping out. I’ve noticed it seems like everyone has that helpful spirit right now.”

Cousin Floyd works nights as a mechanic on tractor trailer trucks. He explains, “I’m going to miss your Dad. Whenever I was with him and someone else came around, he would introduce me with such enthusiasm. He would say, ‘This is Floyd--you know, he works on those big rigs!’ And he would have this really big smile on his face, like it was the greatest thing. He made me feel so good. I’m really going to miss him.”

Yes, we’re really going to miss him.