Blane Elmer HendricksMay 13, 1928 - August 28, 2008
The program cover read "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a well preserved body...but rather to skid in broadside, used up, worn out and loudly proclaiming, "Wow, What a ride!"
Never was there a saying more fitting for my grandpa. His body was anything but well preserved with a glass eye, a hand severed years ago, reattached but rendered useless. Yet, in his 80 years of life he truly did "LIVE". Just the day before he passed he was out on the farm roping and riding. I would imagine that he would be disappointed in the way that he passed. A much grander exit he would have envisioned. Certainly a car accident down a deep ravine pulling his trailer, or a fall from a cliff on horseback would have been much more fitting (and expected), but instead he passed in his sleep. It just doesn't seem fitting.
As I have been reading tributes on my cousin's and family's blogs of grandpa, it brings up many of my own memories of him. I wish I could say that most of them are the warm fuzzy ones; but in all truthfulness, far too many of my memories with him were of me being scared to death. From the horseback rides along a steep cliff where I'm begging and pleading to turn back; to the times where I was one of his guinea pigs and he'd put me up on one of his wild horses inevitably getting bucked off; or of the times he'd take us waterskiing only to have him gun the engine throwing me into a face plant every time. No wonder, I don't waterski or ride horses. : ) All joking aside, I have so many wonderful memories of him as well. I spent the day on Friday on his farm reflecting and remembering. Oh how the memories came flooding in and the tears soon followed.
Grandpa was so brave (or possibly crazy : )) but I don't know that he knew fear. That is one thing I would like to take from him. To live life to the fullest, to enjoy every minute of it so that one day I can look at my life and say "Wow, what a ride!"
What a blessing it was at his funeral service to hear the life sketch and the many stories of his life. Over 100 beautifully-penned pages had been written declaring his love for my grandma, his testimony of the gospel, and of his love of life. I hope that I can live to be half the kind of person that he was. He will be missed by many, as he was loved by many. I am grateful for him and for the life and legacy which he lived, and left, for our family.
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(Ironically my grandpa was selling several of his horses on Saturday. At the event, they paid tribute to him by bringing out his most beloved horse followed by a moment of silence. They presented my grandma with the beautiful bouquet.
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(the family after the funeral)
(even Grandpa's horse made it to the funeral. He would have wanted it that way)
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