| | I know it's been a while since I posted last...
But let's just say that since then, my life has been in the fast lane! I've been working as a Nurse Tech in Chattanooga...and in between that, am busy with wedding and GYC planning! Not to mention a couple of backpacking trips and other fun stuff...
Here's a few things that've been happening:
- Finalized all GYC speakers
- Finally set up a wedding website (basically 100% complete, minus a few pics): www.lukeandaudrey.com
- Went to Kentucky for my Grandfather's memorial (he passed away on July 4...more on that later)
- Attempted to go to a friend's wedding in Spokane on cheap AirTran standby tickets (unfortunately, they were overbooked so we went backpacking instead. Sorry Kyle and Rachel!)
- Bought a house! Yes, that's right...provided everything goes through, we'll be closing on our very first home on August 17! It's a great little place on a country road 10 minutes from Southern. Needless to say, both Audrey and I are super excited!
Outside
Inside
You all are welcome anytime! (Once we get moved in after the wedding of course...)
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My grandpa was a pretty special guy! He was a missionary, world traveler, and director of the Health and Temperance Department of the GC. I'll post more pictures later, but for now below you'll find the tribute I gave at his memorial...
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My Grandpa
Grandpa Bert was the best grandfather a kid could want—because he knew how to be a kid. Even though he held a top position in the Seventh-day Adventist denomination, he was never too haughty to roll around on the carpet with his grandkids. He understood what made little boys tick—what they enjoyed doing, how to make them laugh, and how to keep them busy.
When we visited, the first thing we’d pull out of the closet was “the suitcase.” The suitcase was held together by duct tape and had obviously seen much better days. But inside the suitcase was the biggest collection of odd-sized wooden blocks you’d ever seen. With those blocks, Grandpa would help us build enormous and elaborate towers and marble rollers that started on the floor and ended wedged on the ceiling.
After the blocks got boring, Grandpa would take us on one of countless trips to the Air and Space Museum in Washington DC. I’m sure he was sick and tired of seeing it and probably wanted to check out some of the other museums in the city. But the airplane museum was the only one that my brother and I wanted to see—so that’s the one he took us to, spending hours walking through the much-too-familiar exhibits. Invariably, he’d end up taking us to the IMAX too—and buying us our perennial favorite, “astronaut ice cream” (which, for the unenlightened, has been freeze-dried and has the consistency of chalk).
Back home, there were creeks to build dams in, catch fish from (for dissection with butter knives later), and skinny dip in. When that got tiring, Grandpa would regal us with an endless supply of hilarious stories from his past…about the “green monster” and the time Grandma had to drive the kids home backwards because the car wouldn’t go forward…about the time that my dad backed into the garage when he was learning how to drive…about the dog he and his brothers dyed pink…and a thousand other interesting experiences he’d managed to collect.
And then, if things got rowdy or out of hand Grandpa would chase us to our bedrooms, threatening to spank us the whole way (one time he even pulled me to my room by the hair.)
But our favorite time was Christmas. All the aunts and uncles were there to help engineer an even better wood block marble roller than last year. Grandpa had a giant stocking that hung from the ceiling and touched the floor—filled with presents for the family “white elephant” gift exchange. There was all kinds of laughing and goofing off and vicious silly string battles—not to mention the mean pancakes that Grandpa would whip up for breakfasts.
Even more than a Grandpa that I played with, though…Grandpa was a man I respected greatly. I loved visiting his office at the General Conference headquarters in Maryland. My chest burst with pride when we sat close to the front with Grandpa at the General Conference sessions—because Grandpa was an official delegate. In later years, I would smile with satisfaction when people recognized me as “Bert Whiting’s grandson.” Grandpa was a well-known, well-respected man—and I consider it a privilege to be related to him.
I’m reminded of a few bits of advice he dropped on me over the years. He’d say to me, “Boy, if you can learn to read voraciously, write lucidly, and speak intelligently, you’ll lead the world—and make me proud.” It was a principle that he exemplified powerfully in his own life. And as I got older, he’d always ask me “Boy, when are you gonna get a girlfriend? Or do you have one already? Get a good woman and you’ll have it made.” (Another principle he modeled to the T).
So far, I’ve taken at least one bit of advice to heart—I’m getting married in January to the woman of my dreams. Grandpa would’ve been proud—but his mind was too far gone to recognize it when he met Audrey for the first time earlier this year. I wish he could have made it to the wedding.
I’m working on the first piece of advice. But Grandpa left big shoes to fill. I can only hope that someday I’ll be able to look over a life like his--filled with hard work, good humor, and rich experience. (Not to mention a good woman and plenty of wood blocks.)
So Grandpa Bert, I know you’re not here to hear me say this: but I love you more than you’ll ever know. Someday…on that sea of glass…we’ll swap funny stories together and maybe even build an even more incredible marble roller. By the grace of God, I’ll have lived a life that’ll make you proud. I can’t wait.
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| | Posted 7/24/2007 2:27 PM - 39 Views - 14 eProps - 7 comments
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