Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Grandpa Wally's Passing




It's time to share the news of my father Wally's death, and share with extended family and friends the legacy of his life. In the past few days I've reminisced on so many things that it's hard to know where to start...

Tonight I returned home and read to Kieran an amazing book that I bought to share his legacy with the kids on the day after I learned of his passing, last Friday. Wangari's Trees of Peace: A True Story from Africa, shares the story of tree planter and first African woman to receive the Nobel Peace Prize (Kier was impressed!). I have no doubt they would have been fast friends if they had ever met, but it so happened that they were spent their young lives reforesting different parts of the planet. Their legacy is similar though, and it is now in his death that I understand the significance of the movement he worked to create with a hard working cooperative of Hoedads. At age five, Kieran hasn't quite grasped the finality of death, but he loved his Grandpa Wally and I have no doubt that he will have playful memories...he did however start to tear up when Wangari was imprisoned, and for several pages asked pleadingly, "When did she get out of jail? When?" It made me realize how fortunate Wally was to live in a time and place to have the freedom to what his heart longed to do.

Instead of memories, Makenna will be left with this heartfelt photo of her and Grandpa Wally at the Oregon Country Fair last summer. We had met on the outskirts of the main stage meadow on pre-fair Thursday, where she proceeded to flirt and romp, and share her joy with both grandparents, as my Mom was there to care for her and spoil her with fair fun.

My east coast Cronin family remembers Wally as the silver haired hippie who splurged on kegs and an eight piece swing band for our wedding outside of Ashland nearly nine years ago. No doubt they may have thought he was the one who stunk up the shuttle bus!

Speaking of parties, we held one amazing wake for Wally last night. We packed a few hundred of his closest friends into his favorite place outside the woods and the country fair: Sam Bond's Garage. It may seem odd (I didn't really understand wakes until last night), but this gathering of his tribe will be one of the most significant experiences of my life. I can only hope to have the grace of so many wonderful souls to honor my passing. For those of you who weren't able to join us (or who weren't able to understand me through my tears), I'd like to share my opening remarks:

Thank you all for coming together to celebrate the life of Wally. More than anything he was our father, and everyone’s friend. I know the loss is sudden and deep, and it’s going to be heartbreaking to share and hear the stories of his life. But from an early age, we always knew that Wally wanted a wake when he passed. I didn’t quite understand it as a kid, but in the past days of grieving I can see the wisdom of sharing and celebrating life, even as we privately morn.

It’s in this reflection that I can now clearly see just how much Wally’s wacky and wonderful persona shaped who I am, who we all are today. More than anything, Wally taught us how to have fun and enjoy life. As most of you all know, our childhood experience with Wally was spent as visits from the South Umpqua up to the big city of Eugene. On drives north, he would entertain us with jokes, not just one or two, but long-winded riddles that always left you laughing. As an adult I don’t know how he managed to keep them so clean, but we felt the shift from father to friend when he let us in on his zany humor. No doubt, the best jokes of his life were with his Hoedads, and there weren’t nearly as many jokes to share once his hoedad was finally laid to rest.

As kids, we felt like lucky to have a father who would take us to ice cream often more than once on each visit, first at our mid-way meeting point of Rice Hill, then at Prince Pucklers. For nearly every breakfast before he met Karen, he would take us to Fifth Street Market for day old croissants with extra jam and butter and pint sized kiefers. For our 13th birthday, he and Karen surprised us by leading us blindfolded down the railroad tracks to his friend Ib’s place, where we were served rum flamed ice cream. We felt like the specialist girls in the world.

Once we were grown, Wally shared his love of a good pint. I remember bonding over my first public pints at High Street, and here at Sam Bond’s during college with all his myriad of friends from my childhood. At age 20, we shared a very special trip down to Boont Ale country where he picked cones and we slept under the stars.

Wally taught me his love for sailing, feeling the wind in your hair and the rush hiking out the entire weigh of your body and cantilevering against the waves. He loved sharing his joy for sailing with others, and I truly hope that Tami will share her joyous memories with us.

Most of all, I will miss hearing Wally’s guitar and the stories he shared through his guitar. He would serenade us with quirky folk songs, and he always made us squeal to the story of four wet pigs. That was his greatest joy, sharing stories and smiles everyone, because everyone he knew was his friend. We feel blessed to have such a tremendous friend as a father. The loss of his life will be a big hole to fill, but here today I feel your joy and friendship that was his life.

Thank you again for coming together to honor Wally.

I am only disappointed that Kev and the kids couldn't make the wake, and I could make the excuse that Kev happened to have back to back night mtgs and an early morning work obligation (Thanks Auntie Carla for being our savior!) But the fact of the matter is that I didn't have the capacity to be a grieving daughter and a mother at the same time. Hopefully sharing will help my nuclear family understand the sorrow and joy I feel right now.

For his "fair family" obituary, visit my twin sis's blog: http://www.vicariousnomad.com/2011/05/wally-jones-passing-on.html

Even though Wally wasn't of the Facebook generation, we felt it perfect to keep his stories going by creating a 'fan page'...his occupation is appropriately titled: Entertainer.

Grandpa Wally, may you fly in peace.


No comments:

Post a Comment