Remembering Grandpa Williams -- by Jasmine

My grandfather requested that I speak at his funeral. I am honored and overwhelmed by this request. I do not know that I have the words to express who my grandfather was, but I shall endeavor to do my best.

My grandfather was the smartest man I have ever known.  He loved learning and pursued it throughout his entire life.  He was a quiet genius who knew his high school locker combination even until his old age.  His memory was keen, and his mind was always active. He was quiet about it--never bragging, never boasting of how smart he was, but always feeding his mind.  He kept an active tally of how many trick-or-treaters came each year; played games that are mentally stimulating -- like sudoku, crossword puzzles, and even jigsaw puzzles.  He read voraciously and loved to study a variety of topics but most especially books on the Bible.  He had a love of Christ and a love of the Bible -- both Old and New Testament stories were topics of great study for him.  His favorite was the story of the Prodigal Son.

He was the youngest of four boys born to Elsie Laura Ellen Talbot Williams and John George Williams.  He was born just after his twin brother on January 6th, 1922.  He would talk fondly of his memories of growing up -- of how he wore his hair one way and his twin wore his hair the other way and if they wanted to trick their teacher or another person they would part their hair opposite of normal and pull bangs forward or brush it back and nobody noticed the tan line from having bangs.  He talked about how he would steal grapes on the way home from school from a vine owned by a bank and how he would always take more grapes than he could eat.  I remember that he also grew grapes -- the green ones, both at his house in Colorado and in Provo.  And one time when I visited I overate grapes and got sick and he told me that you could have too much of a good thing but grapes were one of his weaknesses as well.

He also taught me about perseverance and deciding to be better and working towards it.  He told me of how when he was in school he was terrible at baseball, but he nailed a bucket to the side of the barn and would practice throwing the ball into the bucket until he could get it into the bucket often.  Though he never made it onto a national baseball team his love of baseball continued throughout his life.  He wore his (Oakland) A's cap frequently.  He knew stats of baseball players and games and followed them in his quiet pursuit of all his interests.  He followed horse racing with grandmamma.  He followed the news, and I heard that he had done so even in his younger days -- so much so that his own father would ask his advice on how to vote as he knew that my grandfather would have studied the issues thoroughly.

He loved listening to music -- both classical and folk.  Often I would visit and he would be listening to records, cd's, or even just using his t.v. as a radio playing classical music.  His appreciation of music and love of it was gained by each of his daughters, and he would attend concerts whenever he could.

In fact, he was a man who appreciated all the arts -- literature, poetry especially.  He wrote several poems himself, the most notable was one about a lighthouse, and then the lighthouse motif was a way of celebrating him.  He was himself like a lighthouse -- a beacon among the storms of life.

He was a rock himself.  Not very cuddly, and some might see him as stern.  But he was solid and firm, which in its own way is comforting.  He was a man who you learned to love  A man of greatness.  A man you respected.  A man with chiseled features.  He could have been a movie star.  He had the looks for it -- a mix of Charleton Heston and Gregory Peck.  But fame never called to him.

He pursued a career in soils science -- something that allowed him to be outdoors, something that allowed him the "thrill of discovery' as he figured out how soil was different and measure it and quantified how different soil was.  He had gone to Brigham Young University to learn this science.  It was there he met my grandmamma, the love of his life.

He met her at a dance and asked if he could 'stand under the light of her florescent-lighted watch'.  Many years later I got a pair of high heels for Christmas and grandmamma tried them on and he remarked how she still had the best ankles in the world.  He loved my grandmamma Arlene.  I could tell how much pleasure he got just from holding her hand.  She was his queen and the light of his life.  He was overjoyed every time she returned after her travels.  He was a rock and she was the wind.  They belonged together, and it was still okay every time they were apart.

He lived by the motto "Do the duty that lies nearest you and already the rest will seem clear". And "Fight the war from here".  And he passed that on to me and my family and it is a strength to rely on.  So when things seem overwhelming or you are struggling with any challenge large or small you look around and do the duty that lies nearest you.  It is about moving on, regardless.  It was this strength, this thought that carried me through the news of his death.  I knew he was old.  I knew that his time was coming to a close.  I loved my grandfather, and so finding out that he was dead was a hard blow.  I think that it was hard for all of us.  But instead of being immobilized by grief I drew upon his strength of character.  I found the strength to walk the dog; to reach out to my sister Julia and help her through this as well.

He and grandmamma had lived with my family for a few months in Springville, and then had come over frequently while living in Provo.  So he became our home-school-guest-tutor-of-honor.  He played chess and studied the middle ages with my sister Laura.  He took my sister Margret to her music lessons and instilled a love of music in her and helped train her ear for music.  With Trina he studied math and Ancient Egypt.  With Lark art was the main topic as he helped her to know the different artists.  Speaking of art he always gave us art supplies for Christmas and took the time to record shows of how to paint and gave them to our family.  He told Lark at one time to do the art that is inside of you.  For Julia he was the adult who was there when both my parents were at work.  He always shared his lunch with her, from sandwiches on rye bread to her all-time-favorite birthday present of a banana when she was two years old (which she carried around and cradled like it was a doll that entire day).  With Julia he shared his love of nature and puzzles.  His bond with Julia was a treasure she will always have.  I was glad I was able to be with her when we found out that he was gone.  He has a special place in all of our hearts.

He encouraged us to be who we were -- to follow our own paths and passions.  For me it was the theatre.
He came with us as support when we auditioned for "Our Town" and auditioned himself and got a part in the play.  He was in a few more productions.  I ran the light board for the production of "Arsenic and Old Lace" that he was in.  He also took me to see shows and even a few concerts.

He always appreciated  beauty, from nature to the little things in life.

I remember how he would kiss me on the ear.  It was strange and slightly prickly.  But I knew that he loved me.  Thinking of him helps me to realize that life is glorious and can be lived to the fullest in a quiet manner  You can be an athlete in high school, a radio technician in the navy, a boy in college who finds the love of his life, a soils scientist, the son of a farmer, a life-long learner, a patron of the arts, a father, a grandfather, a friend, a person of great importance to everyone who knows him.  He was a man who looked at life and lived it.  He enjoyed the beauty of the simple and complex.  He truly treasured every moment spent with hose he loved -- grandmamma (his wife Arlene), his daughters (Vivian, Gwenda, Velinda, Dawna, Natasha, and Tara), his grandchildren, his great grandchildren, the members of his church, and friends throughout his life (including those at The Seville where he spent his final days).

He was himself a lighthouse to me.  And even though he is gone it is up to us to pick up the torch and carry on.  "Do the duty that lies nearest you and already the rest will seem clear."  Thank you.  Thank you, Leslie Warren Williams.  Thank you for your light, your guidance, your strength, your example.  Thank you for your love.  Thank you for the time we were each able to spend with you.  We love you.  We will miss you terribly.  God be with you til we meet again.  We love you.  Farewell.