Don Palmer: The Wake He Left Behind

A Sudden Ending

Dad fell on February 14th, then he was gone. He was fit and mentally sharp for a 92-year-old man. But he had recently complained about occasional dizziness and struggles with his balance. I noticed it when I took him to lunch the week before and thought about suggesting he use a cane to help, “just when needed.” But I demurred; he wouldn’t have done it.

Dying that way is not a bad way to go. Dad lived independently until the end. There were no long hospital stays, no lingering terminal disease, no regimen of drugs or invasive procedures to suffer through until your time comes, as happened with Mom and her cancer journey a few years prior.

“Until your time comes” are sobering words, and I meditated on time and death as I prepared Dad’s graveside eulogy.

As the eldest child, I would deliver it, just as I had done for Mom. The reflections led me to the Preacher of Ecclesiastes. I missed church in the weeks around Dad’s death and did not know Walter was preaching on this book of the Bible. A random coincidence? Or God touching my heart and teaching me in a specific way as I lived through my grief?

A Time to Speak

I started Dad’s eulogy with my paraphrase of Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3:1, 7: “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven… a time to keep silence, and a time to speak…” Then I shared a story, some of which had not been heard by anyone before.

Today we bury Dad right next to Mom, here in his home place, as he wished. They are both gone now, and the time has come to speak more about their story, especially about Dad’s part of the story. I was not close to Dad growing up. But his life is a wonderful example of how anyone can change for the better, starting with the motivation and given the power to do it. The early years of our family life were tough. There was lots of arguing and anger and strife, and even violence between Dad and Mom, between parents and sons, and between brother and brother.

When Everything Fell Apart

Things worsened until finally, while I was in senior high school, Mom left Dad and divorced him. That was the end of what I call our “First Family,” the family my younger brother Daryle and I grew up in. My little brother Trent and little sister Trinka were small back then and don’t have many memories of the “First Family.”

A Life That Changed

Then Dad’s story changed. As I stated, change starts with motivation. Dad was highly motivated. The best thing that happened in his life had walked out the door, and he desperately wanted her back. He knew he had no chance unless he changed, and it needed to be big, real change.

Dad decided to become a Christian and give his life to Jesus Christ; Mom was already a Christian. He became deeply involved with the Church and with Christian fellowship and teaching.

I spoke about the power for change. That was the power for Dad, the Holy Spirit working in his life and Dad embracing it.

Dad then began wooing Mom to win her back. She was cold as ice toward him. Speaking of ice, I told him, as an obnoxious teenager, he had an ice cube’s chance in Hell of succeeding with Mom. But Dad’s change was dramatic over the next several months, and I became convinced it was genuine. Eventually, Mom’s icy resistance melted as she believed the change was real. Less than a year after the divorce, she accepted his proposal, and they remarried, 47 years ago, back in 1979.

The Second Family

Then “Second Family” began. But I moved on not long after that, going to college, getting married while in school at the University of Georgia, and starting my own family. I knew the “First Family” and was formed by it. Over the coming years, observing Dad and Mom and Trent and Trinka in the “Second Family,” I appreciated the real changes that were happening in Dad’s life, and in Mom’s also.

Dad became a more loving and dedicated husband and father, and grandfather. He became kinder, more generous, friendly, and accepting of others. He became more of his true self that God had made Jackie Donlaw Palmer, Senior to be.

Dad and I became closer over those years. When I was younger, I would have said I loved my Dad, but I would not have said that I had much affection for him. Over these last 40+ years, the genuine affection and respect I had for him grew. As I got to know him better and learn more about his story, I kept discovering delightful surprises.

The Surprises

Contemporaries around these parts say “Jackie D.,” as some call him, was “the fastest, toughest boy in the county,” captain of the football team and the basketball team. I believe the fast part. He once beat me by a couple of strides after I challenged him to a 40-yard foot race when I was 15 years old and he was 43. And I was not slow; that ticked me off. He served honorably in the army and won multiple citations for his artillery accuracy. He played golf once in his life and beat a scratch golfer. I don’t get that. I love playing golf, and I’m not very good at it even though I’ve tried hard to get better. He was surprisingly excellent at telling jokes. My brother-in-law called them “Jackie Jokes,” and they were a highlight of Thanksgiving meals together.

And a final example: Dad loved to read and study the Bible. It’s the only book he read and the only book he had in his house. Specifically, the King James Version, the only allowable translation. He would say, “If the King James was good enough for Jesus, then it’s good enough for me!” Exasperated, I once retorted that the translation was produced in England during the early 1600s and that Jesus was not walking around Palestine speaking English. He spoke Aramaic. Dad responded, “I know all that. But it was Jesus who directly inspired all those scholar fellows working for King James!” Touché, Dad. I think you may have a good point there. And I laughed.

After difficult early years, that’s the biggest delightful surprise about Dad for me, that he made me laugh and that we had fun being together. I will miss that, and of course, I will miss him.

The Wake We Leave

I think our life journeys can be compared to piloting a ship. As you pilot your ship through life, you leave behind a wake.

The wake is the impact you have on other people, especially in relationships closest to you. Is your wake full of love, generosity, kindness, and laughter, like Dad’s?

I believe Dad would say his life wasn’t always leaving behind a good wake when he was younger. The beautiful, encouraging part of his story is that he changed the course of his ship in a positive way. Like Dad, any one of us can also change with the motivation and the power, especially the power of knowing Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior.

The Question That Remains

Then I prayed for us, all who gathered at the grave.

The Preacher teaches us in Ecclesiastes about the fleeting nature of time and our short pilgrimage on earth. He exhorts us to enjoy our lot or portion and receive the gift of every day given. The Preacher’s pronouncements on our common fate are grim, death and the return to dust. But beyond the Preacher’s vision, a greater gift is offered, eternal life with God through Jesus Christ.

Even still, the wisdom holds.

Life is short. Time is a gift. And the question remains, how will we live it?