Tribute to my amazing Granddad

On March 28th, approximately 4 am, I lost my dear Granddad. His blood sugar had been out of control for a week and on Friday night he slipped into a coma. My Aunt Liz flew out from New Jersey, cousin Ryan flew from Oakland, and other cousin Mike flew out from Denver. We all gathered around him Friday, Saturday and Sunday, singing bluegrass songs and telling stories. Then on early Monday morning he slipped away.

Today we had the funeral. Though there were only a few people present, it was a great service, loosely structured and very much a McAvoy gathering. A few of my aunts and uncles from my mother's side attended. Other than that it was my family, my aunt Cathy's family and my aunt Liz via speakerphone. Each of us had a few things to say, my cousin Ryan played on the guitar and sang a song he had written in tribute to my Granddad and we listened to country/bluegrass music.

My Granddad, Russell, was an amazing person. He lost his mother at only 5 years old and was shipped off to live with aunts/uncles while his father looked for work during the Great Depression. He barely had enough to eat and certainly never enjoyed the nice things in life as a child. His father and, later, step-mother were extremely hard on him. His childhood was spent in poverty. Before he turned 18 he lost his father. At age 17 he got his step-mother's permission to enlist in the Navy so that he could join the armed forces in WWII and leave Fayetteville, West Virginia. He spent the war as a gunner in the South Pacific.

After he returned from the war, he went on to get his degree in Chemistry from Bridgewater University in Virginia. Later he worked for the US Geological Survey in hydrolysis doing clean water control. He married my grandmother, Edith Saunders, in her parent's living room. They went on to travel around the country as he was working for the government in northern Virginia, Alaska, Louisiana, North Carolina, Salt Lake City and Denver. When their four children were grown, they eventually settled in Roseland, Virgina.

I wrote a few things about my Granddad that I read at the funeral this afternoon. I'll write them here so that I can have a permanent record.

I have to admit that I was always jealous of my cousin Michael. Being the oldest grandchild, it seemed like he knew Granddad better than anyone. He always had the best stories about Granddad from the 80s and 90s. The only time I saw Granddad was when they made the long journey from Virginia to Utah either driving in their camper or a few times when they flew. My favorite memories had to be from our famous McAvoy camping trips.

Every few years when I was younger we would all take a vacation together and go camping. Granddad seemed like he was so at home in the great outdoors. I was fascinated as a little girl that when he roasted marshmallows, they were always perfectly toasted with the inside being completely fluffy and melted. I would beg him to roast me one and when he did all the other cousins were jealous and would also beg for his perfect marshmallows. He was always the first one to wake up in the morning. I remember crawling out of the tent, being filthy and greasy, and he would be preparing breakfast or working on his fishing line, clean and well slept. I remember standing on the banks of the lakes, casting my line out only a few feet and he would be patiently, slowly casting perfect lines. I got bored so easily but he would patiently wait for those mountain lake fish to bite. He was calm and happy in the outdoors, the most peaceful and serene that I can remember seeing him.

The first time I remember going to Virginia to that beautiful house in the countryside, Granddad was so proud of the garden. He showed me all the strawberries, asparagus and the cherry tree. Their house didn't have any exciting toys or movies, but the beauty of the pine forest he helped plant with my Grandma and the big garden were enough to entertain me. It was there that for the first time, I tried their home grown asparagus from the garden. It was love at first taste and to this day, I crave their home grown asparagus sauteed in a little bit of butter. It was at that house that I fell in love with the Blue Ridge mountains, the big blue sky and those rolling green mountains were, to me, tranquility. Granddad took so much pride in that land, in his garden, his barn and their pine forest.

I am no longer jealous of Michael. I have realized, within the past few weeks, that my relationship with my Granddad blossomed in his later years. Although I got to know him better when he was affected with Alzheimer's, I would see glimpses, now and then, into the true man he was. One day he and I were sitting next to each other on the couch talking about nonsensical things, he started telling me that he missed his daddy, his mommy and wanted everyone to be happy and get along. I believed then, and I believe now, that he was making sense and that his mind was working fine in that moment. I really learned to love and appreciate Granddad as the disease progressed.

It's hard for me to sum all my feelings and thoughts about the entire life of my Granddad. How do you do him justice in a five minute speech? I am sure Granddad is listening. And what I would say to him is this: thank you. Thank you for teaching me to love the great outdoors. Thank you for teaching me, though it has taken til now, the value, both literally and metaphorically, of standing still on the side of a lake, patiently casting my line waiting for something good to come along in perfect stillness and patience. Thank you for teaching me to love vegetables and the wonder of digging your hands in the earth to grow your own food. Thank you for teaching me the art of roasting the perfect marshmallow. Thank you and I love you.