This will be a different king of post.  My father, John C Trube, Sr., passed away one year ago today.  The picture above is the last photo I took of him before his death, about 10 days before the fall that led to his passing.  This is the eulogy I wrote for my dad for his memorial service:

Thank you for coming to honor our dad and express your care for us as a family.  We deeply appreciate your expression of love.

Many people have written or spoken to me about what a wonderful and rare person my father was, what a blessing he was in your life or in the lives of others you know.  And I have to answer, “you don’t know the half of what a wonderful man he was.”  Shortly after his marriage, he answered the call of his country and served in the Army for four years during World War II with a tour of duty in France and Germany.  He loved my mom for nearly 69 years of marriage and was holding her hand when she breathed her last breath two years ago.  He survived a couple serious illnesses that would have killed most so that he could live to care for her.  He always found ways to be a good father and grandfather—whether fishing with Jack, going for walks in Mill Creek Park and giving me wonderful memories of our talks together, or going to rock concerts at Blossom Music Center with my sister.  One of my son’s favorite pictures was of him and grandpa playing pool in grandpa’s basement.  He served as an elder and clerk of session in church and even in retirement visited other shut-ins.

One of the ways he blessed me (and probably my siblings as well!) was in teaching us how to do good and thorough work.  When I was 10, I asked for a raise in my allowance.  Instead, he proposed that I find some work to earn money by cutting grass for neighbors.  He fronted the money for a mower.  But that wasn’t the end of it.  Early on, he would stop by as I was finishing a job and make sure I had done it right, that I had given people their money’s worth.  That annoyed me as a kid, but stuck with me ever since.  He would often say, “do your best and trust God with the rest.”

Perhaps more profoundly, he modeled Christ to me.  When I was in college we were a one car family.  I had a friend in school up in Meadville, PA that I wanted to visit.  I arranged to borrow the car but on the day of the trip it snowed.  Dad didn’t want me to go.  I pressed the issue and he reluctantly surrendered the keys.  I got there OK but was snowed in.  Returning the next day, I got within a couple miles of home and hit a patch of ice, banged into the curb, bent a wheel and threw the car badly out of alignment.  He was justifiably angry and I felt like dirt.  That evening, I was skulking around in my room.  He came in and said, ‘feeling pretty bad?’  I said, “Yeah, I really screwed up.”  He said, “Yeah, I know, but it will be OK.”  He modeled forgiveness to me in a way that taught me that the forgiveness of Christ was possible.  I will never forget that night.

It’s funny, like most people who are such a blessing, what he was most conscious of was how greatly HE was blessed.  In our conversations, he would come back again and again to what a blessing his marriage was, how proud he was of all his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, what a privilege it was to serve his country, his boyhood memories of adventures in Mill Creek Park, how rich he was in friends.  He often spoke of how good the Lord had been to him and of his hope in Jesus that he would be with the Lord and reunited with my mom.  Today, I believe what was once hope is now reality.

What is the key to such a blessed life?  The King James Version of Psalm 1:1-3 reads:

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.

And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

My dad sought to live by these verses, and all of what was written in the Bible.  He had a very simple set of watchwords that he wrote out in the form of a poem.  It is in your program today.  He wrote:

Read and pray;

Trust and obey;

Live God’s way.

I can’t think of nine words to sum up my dad’s life that are better than these.  Nor can I end with any better words than those he used to say good-bye in each of our calls.  “God be with you ‘til we meet again.”  

Dad, I love you and thank God for your impact on my life and miss you.  And I look forward to the day when all our tears are dried and we meet once again.