Thinking back, I cannot resolve the first memory of my grandfather; it seems that he was simply always there. Not “there” in the sense that he raised me or that he was around all the time. Just “there”. Part of the firmament. Extant. I recognize that I am fortunate in having known him. My own father and grandfather never met their respective grandfathers.
Last month my grandfather took his final breath. The hour after that moment was remarkable in the sense that it was the first hour in the previous 895,980 hours that grandfather was not breathing the air of this world. The following day was remarkable in that it was the first of the previous 37332 days that my grandfather was not alive. That’s no small number of days and, quite frankly, a plenitude of hours (certainly something to ponder the next time I am compelled to be waiting a hour for something tedious to be completed).
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of all those hours (900,000 if you’re into rounding) is how many of them were happy. 895,000 hours is well over 102 years; while the average life span in this country may be 78.4 years, there are plenty of people who do not reach 51. Thus my grandfather enjoyed somewhere between 1.3 to 2 lifespans during his time in this world, yet the numbers go off the charts if you compare the happy hours he lived with those of the seemingly average american life. I was blessed to converse enough with my grandfather to know that, though he lived though many hard times, almost all of his days (and hours) were happy ones. Indeed, he considered himself to be “the luckiest man on earth.”
My grandfather’s funeral was remarkably well attended for a man who outlived almost all of his cohorts. Anyone who lives over 100 years is something of a legend in their own right, and my grandfather’s life included certain aspects that made him slightly more legendary than most. Indeed, I met more than one person attending the services who had known him only by reference.
I was privileged to be one of two family members to speak at my grandfather’s memorial service. What follows is the essence of what I said:
My name is Tyler Blessing.
On behalf of all the friends and family of Olin Douglas Blessing, and I include all of you among those, I thank you for coming to remember and celebrate his very long and full life.
I am Olie’s youngest grandson and the only grandson to share his wonderful family name. Barring an unexpected miracle, I am his last genetic hope for continuing that name (and Olie reminded me of this this one at least one occasion).
But I am the last only in name. Look around and you will see that I am far from alone among those who call Olie dad, or grampa or great-grampa. Together with his wife Mabel, Olie welcomed into this world two daughters and two sons, eight grandchildren and twelve great-grandchildren. In addition to growing his family, Olie made connections everywhere he went. Look around and you will see that you are far from alone in calling him friend, or neighbor, or even legend.
For most of us, Olie was our deepest connection to the past. A walking and talking piece of history. For some he was the last connection to the past. Now with that connection severed it is left to us to remember the past, but also to look forward to the future, as Olie did, and carry forward our portion of his amazing life.
Those who knew my grandfather Olie to be a man of very few words … did not know my grandfather Olie. Olie was a gregarious, well spoken, fun loving and happy soul. His ability to easily strike up a conversation with almost anyone very much defined his life. If you ever had a conversation with him you likely heard him say that he was the luckiest man alive. But the perception of luck is often in the eye of the beholder, and is sometimes simply the result of recognizing opportunity and working hard.
Olie was a master at recognizing opportunity when it came, and he was a hard worker. He was born in the house where he was raised, the fourth of seven children. The house had no computer, no TV, no radio, no plumbing and no electricity. His mother cooked on a coal fired stove, and the young olie made many trips outside to the well to get water and to coal bin to keep the fire going. In the mornings before school he milked the family cow, and in the afternoons he brought the cow home from pasture. When his father became sexton of the church, the young Olie helped him with the hard labor including digging many graves in the village cemetery. He even dug the grave for the younger brother of his best friend; most children in this country today would not be familiar with such a life.
Olie also worked hard in school an excelled. When the opportunity to go to college came in the form of funding a generous aunt, Olie seized it, and again he worked hard and excelled. When he graduated college during the great depression and a rare opportunity to apply for a job came along he took it, moved away to different state, worked hard and again succeeded. When his mentor at Dow Chemical, Dr. William Collings, offered him the opportunity to help build a new enterprise he accepted the challenge and became the first full-time employee of little company named Dow Corning. And again he worked hard and succeeded, and Dow Corning is no longer a little company. After forty years of hard work, when the company board offered him the opportunity to retire he accepted it.
All of his life Olie was grateful of the generosity he had received. And in turn he was very generous, and he was a magnificent provider for his growing family.
Though he was not baptized until after his 100th birthday I cannot remember a single family meal where Olie did not return thanks for the gifts bestowed upon himself and his family and his friends. He was a very grateful man, and with gratefulness comes happiness and these qualities defined his life much more than luckiness.
Olie was certainly blessed, but the truly lucky ones are those who have known him, especially those like me who have known him for every single day of our lives.
I ask you now to join me in remembering this amazing man.
And I ask you to join me in being grateful, very grateful, to have been blessed with the opportunity of knowing him.
And I think that I do not need to ask you to join me in missing him.
