My father died on July 27th, three days after his 93rd birthday. I miss him so much. On the 29th we had his funeral in the Good Shepherd Episcopal Church of George West, TX, where my parents had their membership for so many years. It is a beautiful little stone church, the plans of which were drawn up by my mother and grandfather Schley on their dining room table. My cousin Robert came in from Mexico City, where he lives, to play the organ. My sister in law Gail did the first reading, my brother Holman and his daughter, Esther, read a psalm, my cousin Robert did the second reading, I read a psalm ,and Rev Mac Keeble read the Gospel lesson, and said words of comfort. Then a good friend of Dad and my family, Tige Brown, gave a very touching tribute to Dad, and then I did. Dad was then buried in the Massey family plot in the George West Cemetery. The graveside service included the mimitary send off Dad requested.
I'd like to share the thoughts about Dad's life that I shared with every one that day:
Good Morning. We the Massey/Etter family thank you for joining us this morning as we celebrate the life of this wonderful man that we love so much, and our Gracious Heavenly Father who shared him with us. I'd like to share a bit of Dad's life with you.
He was born on July 24th, 1918 in White City, San Augustine County, TX. His father owned a lumber mill there. But after the family lost the two eldest sons in childhood, and Dad's father became ill, they were told by doctors to move to a drier climate, and they moved to George West in Live Oak County. My dad was six years old at the time; just about to enter the first grade. Part of the un-official welcoming comittee was my mother, Lavinia Adair Schley, and her mother, Edna Schley. Dad with his usual charm, that we all came to know, invited mom to view his new puppies, and a life long friendship was started, which led to romance, and later on to enduring love.
One of my familie's favorite stories of their childhoods together is that of when my mother's parents invited the boy scouts to camp out in their yard. My grandfather was a boy scout leader. Dad positioned himself right under my mom's bedroom window, and my mom put her arm out the window, and they held hands all night long. That was my dad. He loved to hold the hands of those he loved. And he would always extend a hand in welcome to all he met.
He always loved George West, but after graduating from high school he headed off to A&M University where he was a member of the Corps. He often told a story on himself from this time.
This was at the beginning of WWII, and so the corps at A&M held mock battles, where those learning to fly, would fly over those learning to be soldiers on the ground, and drop flower sacks on them as bombs. One day as dad and others crouched in ditches, dad pointed up to the planes and said,"That's where I'm gonna be." And he enrolled in flight training, and then the Air Corps, which became the Air Force.
During WWII and the Korean War he was a bomber pilot in the Pacific theater. He received a number of metals, including the Distinguished Flying cross, the Air Force's highest metal of honor. He received this for saving his crew and plane when one of the four engines was shot out, and he had very little fuel, six hours less of fuel than he needed to reach land. And yet, with God's help, he did make it.
During WWII, on leave, he married my mom in Fort Worth, where she worked for American Airlines. During the wars and right after, his three children were born. After the Korean War, Dad worked with AFCS. When we lived in Japan, he and his squadron flew all over the Pacific, checking and maintaining the equipment that direct planes at airports, both military airports, and for good will, a number of civilian airports as well. Later he was in charge of AFCS crews at Carswell Air Force Base in Fort Worth ,TX, and Scott Air Force Base in Illinois. He flew into Vietnam just before and during the early part of that war, and then retired in 1967, after serving his country 26 years.
He completed his BA and then went on to complete his MBA in 1969.
He and mom then moved back to George West, where Dad accepted the position of one of the vice presidents of The First Nat'l Bank. Later, he bought and ran the Live Oak Ins. Agency, and also was mayor for a number of years. He was a hunter, an avid golfer, a gentleman cattleman, and most importantly a man of faith, a loving husband, father, grandfather, recently great grandfather, uncle and friend. As he aged, he endured 2 auto accidents, a stint and also pace maker in his heart, and a kidney removal, and each time bounced back to get back to his beloved golf course. In fact, he and my mom were known as the Ever Ready Battery Couple in George West for their ability to keep on going. Dad did so with a sense of humor and a great love of God, and family, and friends.
After mom's fall and illness, they moved to San Antonio in 2004, and moved to Chandler in Dec. of 2005. Mom died in March of 2007. She and Dad had been married almost 62 years, and to the very end, Dad spent hours by her side, holding her hand. In fact, the second beautiful woman he loved so well, Jewel Etter Massey, has said that she first noticed him as the dapper man in suspenders holding his wife's hands. Jewel was there so often visiting her husband. Dad and Jewel first met in grief support after their spouses died. Later, she moved into chandler where they developed a friendship over dominoes, which deepened into love. Dad was so blessed to have two great love stories with women who he loved so dearly, and who loved him dearly in return.
One of my new sisters, Kay Hudson, said at the time of their marriage, that Dad and Jewel taught us to love well, and I so agree. Dad and his two sweethearts not only have taught us to love well, to love wholeheartedly and unconditionally, with hearts as open as the south TX sky. They also taught us and are teaching us to live well, to live unselfishly and couragiously, in honor of God, and country, and family. In the last few days of Dad's life, as his heart, and kidney, and respirtory systems were failing, he went through moments of discomfort and moments of calm, sometimes responding to us, and sometimes not. But just as my mom had before him, Dad, in these last moments of his life taught us how to die; with courage and grace, and most importantly, with faith; the faith that knows so fully that this life here on earth is just the beginning of the life lived eternally with Christ and the Father.
My dad loved to entertain. He loved to host a party or meal. He loved taking family and friends out to a restaurant to eat. And he so loved to give gifts.
But I think that the greatest gift he ever gave any of us was this teaching us how to live, and how to love, and how to die all with the grace of God.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM
Proverbs 31:30
Today, June 25th, would be my mother's 93 birthday. But she went with her Lord to His Father's house four years ago March. Losing parents has been on my mind alot lately. A dear friend lost her dad a few weeks back, and that same week another close friend lost her mom. My heart goes out to them.
I miss my mom greatly. We were close when I was growing up, maybe at times too close. We went through periods when we hurt each other, as mom and daughters sometimes do, but over all we were close. And then God, in His graciousness and love, healed so many of the wounds between us the last few years of her life, and we ended our relationship in a very good place. Praise be to God for that.
One of the things that preparing to go abroad has done for me is to have reminded me of a book I bought for my daughter several years ago. It is called To My Daughter With Love, A Mother's Memory Book by Donna Green. It's part scrap book and part journal. It is in three sections, the first where I can place pics and write memories of my mom and her life, then a section on my life, and then a section on my daughter's life. Each section traces our beginning and early life,school, becoming a woman, love and marriage, wisdom, and more. It has been so wonderful to look at an over view of all three of our lives. It has especially been wonderful to look at, and pass on to my daughter, what I remember my mom telling me, or what I know about, her hopes and dreams, her fears, her favorite things, her wisdom, her finest qualities, and so many other things this book prompts. It's given me a much fuller view of my mom. I really love that.
And one of the things it has really showed me, though in some ways I already knew, is how much my mom's faith influenced mine. I always knew she was a woman of faith, and a number of people from her church, and he rsouth TX town, had said how much her faith affected theirs. I have touching stories, like the day I was with her when she was being prepped for surgery, where she was to lose about a forth of the bone structure of her face due to cancer, and she had printed out and brought with her beautiful copies of St. Patrick's Breast Plate Prayer which she was handing out to other patients and nurses as they were prepping her. And how she said that she wasn't afraid of the surgery or what might happen because she knew that God was with her.She was so incredibly calm; so fully at peace.
But as I looked over our lives, I saw how many small and large ways she shared or lived her faith in ways that impacted mine. Thank you, Lord, for my mother's life and faith. Thank you for sharing her with those of us who loved her.
Happy birthday, Momma. I love you. Here's to the day we once again stand side by side in worship and praise of the Lord of our lives..............
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
In a boxed state of mind
My house is full of boxes right now. Boxes of this. Boxes of that. But mostly boxes of books. A friend said recently that it is a time to purge. And that is what I'm trying to do. Getting a house hold down to a storage unit. Decluttering. Letting go. Getting down to what I really want to save for my daughter and myself before I head out. I pray that God give me the ability to prioritize, to keep Him and what He has placed in front of me in focus, to be able to let go. And I'm looking at all these boxes. Esp. boxes of books. How could I have collected so many. Granted I've had over fifty years to do so .... but really. Granted I inherited some from my grandfather, and grandmother, and great aunt, and mom and dad.....but really. I feel like the Amelia Marcos of books. Each was a friend. Each has a memory. But really....... Now I have piles to sell, piles to give away, piles to save for me, piles for my daughter..... piles in boxes, a few here and there not boxed yet. Truly, Lord, help me let go. In the name of Christ. Amen.
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