Bozgratch

It’s about 48 hours since Frank died. We’ve done the arrangements in advance of his funeral today, we’ve gotten a little sleep — in an actual bed — and there has been some time to reflect on the events of the last 9 1/2 weeks.

Frank was a sociable guy, but not one to say a lot. In my 40 yrs in the family he was always the quiet one, the gentle one, the stable, sober, rooted-to-the-ground one. He believed ardently, but he didn’t talk a lot about what ruled his life, fired his passions, or saw him through the rough times.

When Margaret died, 38 yrs ago, Peggy and I were concerned about him. Mom had been the love of his life, the reason he got through the war, the reason he built the house, the reason he worked hard as a union painter. At the time he grieved visibly, withdrew, and we weren’t too sure what would come of this barely 50-ish wonderful man.

Over time he came out of the funk he had fallen into and returned to life. He joined a widows and widowers group, got out a bit, met people, met women, started to live again. We were happy. There were a few he saw a couple times, one who became a regular friend, a friend who was with him through these last 9 weeks.

Mom had introduced him to a group called the Toledo Bible Students. Through them he gained a new faith, took an active part in church functions and leadership and matured as a believer. But being a quiet guy he wasn’t the kind to spend all his time blabbering about “thus saith the Lord” or such…. he believed what he believed and lived his life according to that without intruding on others.

A few years ago when he was talking with Peg about his end of life plans he wanted two things. He wanted to live with dignity and he wanted people to know about God’s Kingdom whe he died because he lived his life the best he could knowing that the kingdom Jesus promised was where he would once again meet Margaret, other family and friends.

From a large family, Frank was often the sibling others went to for stability, for help, for strength. As the “strong” one in the family he found that others would tell him their problems and cares. Soon he decided that because others often told him of their problems that he didn’t want to be a bother to those who already had enough difficult things going on in their own lives. So, he learned to hold a lot of things in; rather than be a bother to others he kept a lot of his health problems to himself. He chose to be there for others without demanding much of them.

It’s not hard to understand how Jesus’ promise of a coming kingdom would appeal to him. For Frank, Jesus WAS the way, the truth and the life. Over the years I have come to prefer the more contemporary translations of that verse: Jesus is the True and living way. He is the true way. He is the living way. With Jesus there is no deception, no deceit, no falsity. With Jesus is the entry into life. Believing and living like the young Jewish carpenter who finished his life on a cross meant living by the very simple and basic teachings that Jesus left behind in words. Simple ideals that fishermen and bakers and carpenters and painters could understand. Simple teachings that made Jesus popular among the people but a threat to those who represented a formalized system of belief.

After four decades with him I know one thing. There was a simple promise in the bible that he hung onto: as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive. Nothing complicated. Simple, straightforward. And enough to base a life of faith upon.

Those who are more complicated may find such a simple statement an impossible. basis to live an entire life, but not Frank. He didn’t need complicated. He was a simple man with a simple faith; a simple man for whom FAITH was a reality. Scripture says that faith is the evidence of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen. Faith isn’t something that is studied and analyzed and torn apart and reassembled until you know every detail of the process and how everything works. Faith is about living without guarantee. Faith is about setting a course of action and sticking to it whether or not you can prove that someone is paying attention. Faith is about taking God at his word.

The faithful of old did it. Abraham believed God and it was counted to him for righteousness. The children of Israel believed God and he lead them into the promised land — after those who doubted had died — involving a 40 year trip through the wilderness. The prophets believed. Jesus believed. The disciples and early church believed even though belief often resulted in their death. And today there are still those who believe — not because they have proven that God answers all the questions their frail human minds can compose but because when God speaks things happen.

To the rational this may be disconcerting; to the faithful it is life. And when Frank had been poked and prodded, when prospects of returning to a useful life dimmed Frank chose to do what many before him have done: to surrender. He accepted that God knew better than he and he chose to stop fighting. A simple act of volition. And from the time that he surrendered until he went home to be with Jesus was scarcely over a week. Accepting God’s will was easy, because he trusted God. He died in peace, easily, simply, the way he had lived, with loving caring people around him and the assurance that he would soon be with Margaret and those he loved.

Righteous men and women all through the centuries have been able to understand Frank. They know the same Jesus, serve the same God, lead similar lives of simple faith and inspire those around them to live better, love harder and trusth more.

Frank was an inspiration to me. He was a man I’ve heard NO one criticize, and a man I loved. He gave me a wonderful bride, and never once tried to live our life for us. He was wise beyond expectation: a lover of God and an example by example. I’ll miss him dearly, and so will all who loved him.

The good part of the story is, we will see him again. And that reunion will be precious indeed.

See Ya Soon Frank, Dad, My Friend.