Catching up
It's a shame that I've not been keeping up with sharing my life via Livejournal and things of this sort because so much has been going on since my last post...
On Thursday, 4 March around 2:00 PM I got word that my 91-year-old grandfather back in Los Angeles was in bad shape. I learned that an aneurysm present for nearly a decade had finally ruptured after a fall in his nursing home (or that the fall was caused by the rupture). At 91 an operation would really leave him in poor shape. My grandfather had a 'do not resuscitate' order, so they were keeping him off life support to let his body shut down on its own. I immediately booked a flight to Los Angeles for the next morning, hoping that I could at least be present before he died. I was able to see him, though he was technically in a coma since the initial rupture. He hung on until around three in the morning on Monday, 8 March.
The soonest funeral opportunity was on Friday, 12 March, but my flight back was scheduled for Thursday because I needed to meet Alex in Glasgow Saturday morning since we had long planned his spring break visit to Scotland. Thankfully Arleta was able to meet Alex for me so that I could push my flight back a day so that I could be present for his funeral and share the eulogy.
Rose Hills Cemetery, 12 March 2010
We are all here because of the unparalleled impact that this man, our beloved brother, father, grandfather, Santa Claus, great grandfather, uncle and friend, has had upon each one of our lives. Govanhill, Glasgow - that’s where God began to bless the world through the life of David Alexander Stevenson. That blessing eventually made its way across the Atlantic Ocean and the Continental United States to Los Angeles.
When thinking about the greatest loves of Grandpa Dave’s life two things immediately come to mind. His first and greatest love was the Gospel, the grace and love of his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ extending over the entire universe. This love came to fuel every other aspect of Grandpa Dave’s life, most notably his second greatest love, which was without question his beloved Marie.
At my request, Grandpa Dave told me this story countless times. He first met Marie at a church at 49th and Hoover in LA. He was rehearsing on the drums for the praise band when she came into the church with her mother. Grandpa Dave told me that she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He mustered up enough courage to introduce himself and invited Marie to the youth group later on that evening. It was during the praises of this youth meeting that he first held her hand.
They ended up seeing each other every night from thereon out. Marie’s mother wasn’t very fond of the amount time they spent together and told her, “If you spend so much time with him, why don’t you just move in with him?” Kicked out of her mother’s house, Marie ended up in a bind, living with a rather immoral friend. After a while Marie ended up breaking down to Dave about her living situation. He suggested, ‘Well do you want to just get married?’ And so they did, in his living room, officiated by his minister and witnessed by his parents. Concerning his relationship with Grandma Marie, Grandpa told me, ‘We had our problems, but we always worked it through.’ Indeed - they worked it through for over sixty years.
Over that long marriage Marie and Dave were blessed with five children: Robert was the firstborn, Dennis was Dave’s best friend, Dave saved Mark’s life as a child, Pamela was his first daughter and Elizabeth was his baby.
Now you may or may not know the story of Grandpa Dave joining the USC marching band for a period of time, playing trombone until the organisers asked him for his student information for insurance purposes in order to perform at a road game in Palo Alto. He didn’t intend on deceiving anyone, he merely saw an opening in the band and took the opportunity to try out. It’s not his fault that he didn’t realise only students played in university marching bands and that the organisers assumed only students would have even considered trying out.
Grandpa Dave served faithfully as a mechanic in the United States Navy aboard the aircraft carrier USS Swanee in World War II. Later on, while employed by the City of Commerce, he worked his way up from a lowly bus mechanic to become superintendent of the entire department of transportation.
Still, in his view, these accomplishments paled in comparison to the feat of parenting his five children. And those five children went on to give Dave 20 grandchildren and an additional 25 great-grandchildren, all of whom Dave prayed for often and loved deeply.
In 2001 Grandpa Dave experienced the most difficult loss in his lifetime - the passing of his beloved Marie-Allie. I had never seen this phenomenal man-a gruff-voiced Scotsman, a man whose blind, grey eyes were hidden behind his dark glasses, adding to his mysteriousness in the mind of a child, a man bigger than words-I had never seen this man so broken. When Grandma Marie died I remember talking with another grandchild, Christina, both of us utterly disoriented. Our disorientation was not primarily affected by the loss of our wonderful grandmother, for she had been stricken with many ailments including senility for several years leading up to her passing, and we were convinced that she, free of worldly pain and in her right mind, was in the presence of her Lord. No, we were disoriented primarily due to the fact that we had never seen our grandfather in such a state. Christina and I wept with Grandpa while sitting beside his chair, holding his hands.
At that time I didn’t understand the magnitude of Grandpa Dave’s love for his wife and it still eludes me. His devotion never faltered even when his beautiful wife became less physically and socially functional due to the ravages of old age. Grandpa was more than glad to take care of this woman who-to an ignorant and naïve child-hardly resembled my grandmother. To seek to describe Grandpa Dave’s love for Grandma Marie would be foolish, as I am convinced that no words in any language could adequately describe the magnitude of such love. But I’m a fool, so the best way I can describe it is this: a love that characterised God’s intention for marriage, the completely selfless and utterly faithful type of love as described by St Paul in illustrating the marital relationship between Jesus Christ and his Church - this is the sort of love that Grandpa had for Grandma.
And the pain never left Grandpa over the next decade. At any moment he could be right back in that place, the place of feeling the extreme heartache at the reality that the best part of you is missing. He would often tell me, ‘Elijah, I don’t quite know why I am still here without Marie.’ Why was Grandpa still around? The answer is no mystery to any of us.
During that decade Grandpa Dave had the most profound influence on my life. His love, wisdom and guidance provided me with the strength I needed to become the man that I am and the man that I will be. Tonight I will board an airplane and return to Scotland to continue my studies to become a priest and minister, and while I am there, in the country of Grandpa Dave’s birth, I will be constantly reminded of his amazing example of love and faithfulness. He would tell me during our regular outings, ‘I can’t do much, but I pray that God would use me to be a blessing to someone this day.’ God answered these prayers.
Grandpa Dave’s obedience and submission to God was steadfast and enduring. In his long life he experienced more than most men. I suppose such a long life would render one susceptible to callousness, a self-assurance that hinders active receipt of continual transformation through the work of the Holy Spirit. Just a couple of years ago Grandpa suffered a stroke. His sensitivity to the will of God led him to the conviction that the stroke had specific purposes in his life. Grandpa’s ability to speak was significantly hindered at first, and it was never fully restored. He told me that he believed that regardless of the physiological cause of the stroke, God desired to use it so that Grandpa would be more careful to avoid speaking words that tore down instead of built up. Now let’s be honest, Grandpa was probably a wee bit of a gossip even until his last days, but his genuine sensitivity to the call of the disciple of Christ, even at such a mature age, demonstrates to us the need to humbly seek and serve God. As Uncle Denny says, Grandpa Dave was a true man of God.
Grandpa Dave was also a true Glaswegian - working class, stubborn, tough as nails, light-hearted and loyal. His knees, his hearing, his eyes and his beloved wife departed. Still he remained with us, hanging on in order to push the kingdom of God forward in this world. During this last year we saw him come back to life five times on an emergency room table. ‘You’re so stubborn, Dave,’ Grandma used to say.
I got wind of Grandpa’s last battle while I was several thousand miles away and immediately booked a flight, praying feverishly that I could at least be in his presence one last time before he passed. Grandpa hung on, not for my sake alone, but for the sake of his whole family. Even while he lay unconscious in that hospital bed he ministered to us. He told us, ‘Look at the power and strength of God,’ as we looked upon a nearly 92-year-old man who had been preserved in order to bless this world for so long. He told us, ‘Don’t take the most important things in life for granted,’ as his large family to whom he gave so much sat beside his bed, eagerly waiting as thirsty recipients of God’s fountain of grace that flowed so powerfully through the man. He told us, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll see me again, but you will hardly recognise me,’ as he breathed his final breaths and slipped into the hands of God.
I am thoroughly convinced that this world is less beautiful in his absence. But let us take this tremendous loss and see what Grandpa Dave wants us to see. We look forward to the Resurrection of all things and the presence of the kingdom of God. We look forward to seeing our beloved Grandpa Dave, healed in the presence of God. All injustice and unrighteousness will be dealt with. The lame will leap, the blind will see, the hungry will eat and we will reunite with David Alexander Stevenson, our brother, and with him adore our Lord Jesus Christ, who reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
And as he might have said,
May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. May the rains fall softly upon your fields. Until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of his hand.
David Alexander Stevenson, born in Glasgow, 5 May 1918, died in Los Angeles, 8 March 2010
Immediately after the reception I went to LAX and flew back to Edinburgh. Alex and Arleta traveled from Glasgow to meet me in Edinburgh and I was incredibly blessed to see them.
During Alex's time in Scotland we went many places and thoroughly enjoyed our time together - we did too much to post about at this point. Just a couple days after Alex left his brother Jason and our friend Sean came into town to hang out in St Andrews and Edinburgh for a couple of days before continuing on their European backpacking trip. Just a couple of days after they left I went to Poland to receive a great tour from Arleta.
I just got back into St Andrews not even a week ago. Easter was incredibly lonely, what with my closest friends in St Andrews gone and being so far away from my old community in Long Beach and Los Angeles and dealing with the death of my grandfather.
Because of how fast-paced things have been in my life recently I haven't had the proper time to deal with my grandfather's death. I really miss him - he was absolutely the most important and influential single person in my life. I really feel like a failure in so many ways. But in the end I keep going.
I still have more than two years left in St Andrews - I hope I do this decently.
On Thursday, 4 March around 2:00 PM I got word that my 91-year-old grandfather back in Los Angeles was in bad shape. I learned that an aneurysm present for nearly a decade had finally ruptured after a fall in his nursing home (or that the fall was caused by the rupture). At 91 an operation would really leave him in poor shape. My grandfather had a 'do not resuscitate' order, so they were keeping him off life support to let his body shut down on its own. I immediately booked a flight to Los Angeles for the next morning, hoping that I could at least be present before he died. I was able to see him, though he was technically in a coma since the initial rupture. He hung on until around three in the morning on Monday, 8 March.
The soonest funeral opportunity was on Friday, 12 March, but my flight back was scheduled for Thursday because I needed to meet Alex in Glasgow Saturday morning since we had long planned his spring break visit to Scotland. Thankfully Arleta was able to meet Alex for me so that I could push my flight back a day so that I could be present for his funeral and share the eulogy.
Rose Hills Cemetery, 12 March 2010
We are all here because of the unparalleled impact that this man, our beloved brother, father, grandfather, Santa Claus, great grandfather, uncle and friend, has had upon each one of our lives. Govanhill, Glasgow - that’s where God began to bless the world through the life of David Alexander Stevenson. That blessing eventually made its way across the Atlantic Ocean and the Continental United States to Los Angeles.
When thinking about the greatest loves of Grandpa Dave’s life two things immediately come to mind. His first and greatest love was the Gospel, the grace and love of his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ extending over the entire universe. This love came to fuel every other aspect of Grandpa Dave’s life, most notably his second greatest love, which was without question his beloved Marie.
At my request, Grandpa Dave told me this story countless times. He first met Marie at a church at 49th and Hoover in LA. He was rehearsing on the drums for the praise band when she came into the church with her mother. Grandpa Dave told me that she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He mustered up enough courage to introduce himself and invited Marie to the youth group later on that evening. It was during the praises of this youth meeting that he first held her hand.
They ended up seeing each other every night from thereon out. Marie’s mother wasn’t very fond of the amount time they spent together and told her, “If you spend so much time with him, why don’t you just move in with him?” Kicked out of her mother’s house, Marie ended up in a bind, living with a rather immoral friend. After a while Marie ended up breaking down to Dave about her living situation. He suggested, ‘Well do you want to just get married?’ And so they did, in his living room, officiated by his minister and witnessed by his parents. Concerning his relationship with Grandma Marie, Grandpa told me, ‘We had our problems, but we always worked it through.’ Indeed - they worked it through for over sixty years.
Over that long marriage Marie and Dave were blessed with five children: Robert was the firstborn, Dennis was Dave’s best friend, Dave saved Mark’s life as a child, Pamela was his first daughter and Elizabeth was his baby.
Now you may or may not know the story of Grandpa Dave joining the USC marching band for a period of time, playing trombone until the organisers asked him for his student information for insurance purposes in order to perform at a road game in Palo Alto. He didn’t intend on deceiving anyone, he merely saw an opening in the band and took the opportunity to try out. It’s not his fault that he didn’t realise only students played in university marching bands and that the organisers assumed only students would have even considered trying out.
Grandpa Dave served faithfully as a mechanic in the United States Navy aboard the aircraft carrier USS Swanee in World War II. Later on, while employed by the City of Commerce, he worked his way up from a lowly bus mechanic to become superintendent of the entire department of transportation.
Still, in his view, these accomplishments paled in comparison to the feat of parenting his five children. And those five children went on to give Dave 20 grandchildren and an additional 25 great-grandchildren, all of whom Dave prayed for often and loved deeply.
In 2001 Grandpa Dave experienced the most difficult loss in his lifetime - the passing of his beloved Marie-Allie. I had never seen this phenomenal man-a gruff-voiced Scotsman, a man whose blind, grey eyes were hidden behind his dark glasses, adding to his mysteriousness in the mind of a child, a man bigger than words-I had never seen this man so broken. When Grandma Marie died I remember talking with another grandchild, Christina, both of us utterly disoriented. Our disorientation was not primarily affected by the loss of our wonderful grandmother, for she had been stricken with many ailments including senility for several years leading up to her passing, and we were convinced that she, free of worldly pain and in her right mind, was in the presence of her Lord. No, we were disoriented primarily due to the fact that we had never seen our grandfather in such a state. Christina and I wept with Grandpa while sitting beside his chair, holding his hands.
At that time I didn’t understand the magnitude of Grandpa Dave’s love for his wife and it still eludes me. His devotion never faltered even when his beautiful wife became less physically and socially functional due to the ravages of old age. Grandpa was more than glad to take care of this woman who-to an ignorant and naïve child-hardly resembled my grandmother. To seek to describe Grandpa Dave’s love for Grandma Marie would be foolish, as I am convinced that no words in any language could adequately describe the magnitude of such love. But I’m a fool, so the best way I can describe it is this: a love that characterised God’s intention for marriage, the completely selfless and utterly faithful type of love as described by St Paul in illustrating the marital relationship between Jesus Christ and his Church - this is the sort of love that Grandpa had for Grandma.
And the pain never left Grandpa over the next decade. At any moment he could be right back in that place, the place of feeling the extreme heartache at the reality that the best part of you is missing. He would often tell me, ‘Elijah, I don’t quite know why I am still here without Marie.’ Why was Grandpa still around? The answer is no mystery to any of us.
During that decade Grandpa Dave had the most profound influence on my life. His love, wisdom and guidance provided me with the strength I needed to become the man that I am and the man that I will be. Tonight I will board an airplane and return to Scotland to continue my studies to become a priest and minister, and while I am there, in the country of Grandpa Dave’s birth, I will be constantly reminded of his amazing example of love and faithfulness. He would tell me during our regular outings, ‘I can’t do much, but I pray that God would use me to be a blessing to someone this day.’ God answered these prayers.
Grandpa Dave’s obedience and submission to God was steadfast and enduring. In his long life he experienced more than most men. I suppose such a long life would render one susceptible to callousness, a self-assurance that hinders active receipt of continual transformation through the work of the Holy Spirit. Just a couple of years ago Grandpa suffered a stroke. His sensitivity to the will of God led him to the conviction that the stroke had specific purposes in his life. Grandpa’s ability to speak was significantly hindered at first, and it was never fully restored. He told me that he believed that regardless of the physiological cause of the stroke, God desired to use it so that Grandpa would be more careful to avoid speaking words that tore down instead of built up. Now let’s be honest, Grandpa was probably a wee bit of a gossip even until his last days, but his genuine sensitivity to the call of the disciple of Christ, even at such a mature age, demonstrates to us the need to humbly seek and serve God. As Uncle Denny says, Grandpa Dave was a true man of God.
Grandpa Dave was also a true Glaswegian - working class, stubborn, tough as nails, light-hearted and loyal. His knees, his hearing, his eyes and his beloved wife departed. Still he remained with us, hanging on in order to push the kingdom of God forward in this world. During this last year we saw him come back to life five times on an emergency room table. ‘You’re so stubborn, Dave,’ Grandma used to say.
I got wind of Grandpa’s last battle while I was several thousand miles away and immediately booked a flight, praying feverishly that I could at least be in his presence one last time before he passed. Grandpa hung on, not for my sake alone, but for the sake of his whole family. Even while he lay unconscious in that hospital bed he ministered to us. He told us, ‘Look at the power and strength of God,’ as we looked upon a nearly 92-year-old man who had been preserved in order to bless this world for so long. He told us, ‘Don’t take the most important things in life for granted,’ as his large family to whom he gave so much sat beside his bed, eagerly waiting as thirsty recipients of God’s fountain of grace that flowed so powerfully through the man. He told us, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll see me again, but you will hardly recognise me,’ as he breathed his final breaths and slipped into the hands of God.
I am thoroughly convinced that this world is less beautiful in his absence. But let us take this tremendous loss and see what Grandpa Dave wants us to see. We look forward to the Resurrection of all things and the presence of the kingdom of God. We look forward to seeing our beloved Grandpa Dave, healed in the presence of God. All injustice and unrighteousness will be dealt with. The lame will leap, the blind will see, the hungry will eat and we will reunite with David Alexander Stevenson, our brother, and with him adore our Lord Jesus Christ, who reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
And as he might have said,
May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. May the rains fall softly upon your fields. Until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of his hand.
David Alexander Stevenson, born in Glasgow, 5 May 1918, died in Los Angeles, 8 March 2010
Immediately after the reception I went to LAX and flew back to Edinburgh. Alex and Arleta traveled from Glasgow to meet me in Edinburgh and I was incredibly blessed to see them.
During Alex's time in Scotland we went many places and thoroughly enjoyed our time together - we did too much to post about at this point. Just a couple days after Alex left his brother Jason and our friend Sean came into town to hang out in St Andrews and Edinburgh for a couple of days before continuing on their European backpacking trip. Just a couple of days after they left I went to Poland to receive a great tour from Arleta.
I just got back into St Andrews not even a week ago. Easter was incredibly lonely, what with my closest friends in St Andrews gone and being so far away from my old community in Long Beach and Los Angeles and dealing with the death of my grandfather.
Because of how fast-paced things have been in my life recently I haven't had the proper time to deal with my grandfather's death. I really miss him - he was absolutely the most important and influential single person in my life. I really feel like a failure in so many ways. But in the end I keep going.
I still have more than two years left in St Andrews - I hope I do this decently.