Eulogy for George HowarthI wrote the following poem many years ago as a eulogy for George Howarth. He was a retired probate judge from Fremont, Michigan who died at the age of 91. He was a regular attendant of the United Methodist church even though he could have found many excuses not to go. He was always in pain and could hardly hear. He always sat at the very back with a special hearing device provided. At the end of each church service he would seek out any new face and hobble over to give them a genuinely warm greeting with a brilliant smile. Every child in the parish knew that he had a pocketful of the classic red and white mints to share with them so they all lined up and said, “Thank you, Grandpa!”. I doubt that he was every child’s grandpa but he sure felt like one. I never got to know him really well but I admired him anyway. I attended once in a while but never approached his regularity. Each time he saw me he would grasp my hand with the strength of a bear and ask my wife and I loudly, “Are you still living together?”. I always found that to be curious. I would have expected more the question about whether or not we were still married. The question was always the same and I earned a smile every time I answered with a yes. One day I glanced at his chair in the back and noticed it was empty. I did not know him very well so I wasn’t overly concerned. I asked about him after the service and learned that he was ill. Weeks passed and his chair remained empty. We just knew in our hearts that he would return because he was so much a part of every service. On a cloudy winter day soon after we learned that he had passed away. It left me with a feeling of despair and disbelief. How could it be possible? It was like hearing that the church had burned down. I felt remorese that I had never visited him even once throughout his sickness. I felt that I still needed to do something so I sat down at a table and wrote this poem. I presented it to his widow. She loved it and made copies for all the relatives that visited. She made sure that it was also read at his funeral as a final tribute to a man that even after his death continues to inspire the very best virtues of all humanity. 
THE CANDY MAN
Each week the children went to him Their arms spread open wide. He gave them not just candies sweet But love he did provide. He’d see me too from time to time And greet me with such glee That I could not help loving him For what he gave to me. Too old was I for sweets you see So this he did not give. The precious gift he gave to me? He taught me how to live. Be kind to all the little ones For that was George’s way. It’s now our turn to take his lead- The Candy Man’s away. |
