Funeral Service for Robert Garwood

Saturday, May 23, 2009

St. David’s Episcopal Church, DeWitt NY

The Rev. James C. Bresnahan, Interim Rector

 

John 14” 1-6

‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.

 

In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

 

Years ago, before I came to St. David’s, I knew Bob Garwood only from the briefest conversations at his store when he checked me out.  He was that odd man who played classical music in a liquor store. When I became priest here six months ago, Bob had already been incapacitated for two long years – unable to speak, unable to move, thousands of thoughts swirling in his mind with little way to get out. 

 

Whenever I visited Bob and Terry in their home, Terry would rouse him from his afternoon nap, see that he was dressed, and take him into their living room in his wheelchair. 

 

And there I would talk and he would listen.  I read Scripture. I prayed. I offered him the bread and the wine of the Eucharist. He opened his mouth to receive it.  He opened his heart to embrace it.

 

Many have wondered how much he understood over the years of his incapacitation, how much he followed the threads of conversation, how much he wanted to chime in but could not.

 

How much? More, I believe, than some might think. There were clues for me: the knowing nod of his head when told “Fahter Jim is here.” his grasping of the worship bulletin in his one hand to follow along, the glitter and sparkle in his eyes I saw at times, and the look of gratefulness.

 

I think Bob Garwood understood very much and remembered much, though unable verbally to express it.

 

There was so much to remember. The many places and homes he and his family had lived in – thirteen different times he had moved - and always, before seeking out a new home, seeking a church to be part of.  Being spiritually connected took precedence for him over where he was residentially located.

 

In receiving the sacrament during the last years of his life, would he not have been remembering the faith communities he was part of and where he was nourished? Remembering the years he administered the cup as chalice bearer, and read aloud the lessons of Holy Scripture.

 

And might not the second lesson that you, Terry, chose for today have been one he had once or more than once read aloud as lay reader:

 

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

 - I Corinthians 13

 

You told me, Terry, that you chose this reading because it was so expressive of him. Despite his physical condition, despite the great difficulty involved in moving about here and there, and in communicating, he was ever so lovingly patient, as you, his family, were with him.  

 

And would he not also have been remembering with regard to church how he had raised a family in the faith and in the life of the church? Remembering too the friendship of those he fellowshipped with?  And remembering the days and nights hanging out in the basement of his home, where he cut and sanded wood for Terry to design and paint, that hand-made ornaments might be offered at Christ Church’s Christmas mart each year to benefit the Church’s ministry?

 

I want you to know Terry and family that we have a large collection of those ornaments at our home, acquired over many years, and many more ornaments that we gave to our children and grandchildren that adorn their trees at Christmas. 

 

Sometime this coming Advent season, when our Christmas bins are unpacked again and we are near ready to decorating our tree, you’ll have to tell me which ones he cut and sanded and which ones you painted so that we can hang them in a prominent place on our tree and always have you in our mind at Christmas.

 

Finally, with regard to church, how could Bob, along with the people of St. David’s, not also have remembered that sunny winter day some months ago when Bob showed up in church in his wheelchair and sat in the center aisle and was greeted with thunderous applause. I remember saying at the time, “You can tell Bob Garwood is here today, because the sun is shining so brightly.”

 

What else may he have been reflecting on the last years of his life?

 

The pride he felt in serving his country, beginning with his entry to West Point - he was first in his entrance score; moving on to dangerous missions he flew in Vietnam, and, afterwards, his continuing service to our country at location after location, rising to high rank.

 

Remembering the more painful parts of life – the losses, the deaths of people near and dear, some of them tragic, but remembering as well the support he was able to give to grieving relatives, and hoping in Christ to be reunited with those he loved in a new body.

 

And would he not have been remembering all the years spent with the wife he loved, the children he proudly fathered, the in-laws he embraced, and his grandchildren whom he enjoyed so very much:  Joyful and fun vacations at the shore, trips to West Point and elsewhere, games and fun at the house, and the comraderie of working together at the store.

 

Remembering also journeys and cruises with Terry the world over, on many of which he displayed his extraordinary skill at Bridge and played in tournaments.  He had a brilliant mind. His ability to calculate was not limited to cards but was a blessing to the church also, since for many years he served as Treasurer at Christ Church.

 

And did not Bob also understand – understand that he had a family that loved him as he loved them, that this family and others encouraged and supported him, and that he was surrounded by those who would not give up on him but kept him always close.

 

Bob is with us today in blessed memory.  He is with us in blessed hope.  And he is with God who through Jesus made the lame to walk again, the despondent to be joyful, and the dead to be raised.

 

God, who remembers everyone and everything, remembers Bob, and now and throughout all eternity will not let him go.

 

Now it is for us the living to go on without him – yet not without remembering the witness of his life, and not without the enduring ways in which his life has wonderfully shaped our own.

 

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  A way is a path, a path to walk on, a road to take on our life’s journey.  As Christians we say, Christ is that path –the path of prayer and reliance on God, the path of forgiving as we have been forgiven, the path of kindness, mercy, and compassion, the path of sacrifice and service, the path of patient love.  In walking that path, we are drawn into the life of the Father through the example of the Son, in the power of the Spirit.

 

So let us walk on that path as Bob did.  Let us love one another, as Christ loved us. And in our grief, let us trust in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.  Amen.