Written 10-01-1984 by him (two years before his death)
Background Music is Richard Wagner's "Siegfrieds Funeral March" - The selection Dad chose for his service.
My Dear Ones –
Rather than have someone speak their words over me – I have chosen to speak to you in my words –through the voice of another. To speak myself, at this time, would be unpropitious and inconvenient. This way, I have the advantage of speaking freely. In life, speaking of the problems and privacies of daily living are things we shrink from if we are to do it with a whole, frank mind. All attempts to do it fail, and we recognize that we are trying to accomplish a thing which is wholly impossible to a human being. The frankest and freest and most private product of the human mind cannot be expressed – unless it is in a young girl’s personal diary. That way, the writer feels limitless freedom of state – want and expression from her confidence that no stranger will ever see what she wrote. But if her remarks came out in print, it would make her cruelly uncomfortable and she would realize that she never would have unburdened herself to the degree had she known she was writing for the public. One could not find anything in the diary that was not true, honest, and respect worthy. But no matter…she would have been very much more reserved if she had known she was writing for print.
It seems to me that I now feel free and frank and unembarrassed, since I know that what I say will not be heard or exposed until I am gone – and unaware – and indifferent. In truth I need say nothing. The music of the requiem said it for me, if you could comprehend it. It was not selected at random. I chose it myself. It has always had a deep, personal meaning to me. Perhaps those very close to me will understand. If it caused ill ease to anyone else, forgive me.
What a very small part of a person’s life are his acts and his words. The rest of life is in his head and heart, and is known to no one but himself. All day, every day, the mill of his mind is grinding, and his thoughts. None of the other things are his history. His acts and words are merely the visible, the audible, the crust of his world, with its scattered snow summits and is vacant wastes of water, and they are so trifling a part of his bulk! A mere thin skin enveloping it. The mass of him is hidden. It and its volcanic fires that toss and boil and never rest, night or day. These are his life and they are not written or spoken. They cannot be written or spoken. Histories, testimonials, eulogies are but the clothes and buttons of the man. The true history of the man cannot – and never will be – recorded.
I know I have never been known as a “religious” man, as it is referred to in common usage. I supposed I never had the proper respect for Hell. However, I am convinced I have always had a deep feeling of Spirituality. It is not that I have done little that was wrong. I am guilty of more “wrongs” that any one human being’s fair share. But I always knew they were against my moral principles, and my conscience was – and is – burdened with guilt. I can only hope the Almighty forgives me. I never have.
When I was a boy, and at last able to think for myself, I concluded that atheism was only for the feeble-minded; that the creation of this universe and the countless universes that lay beyond our own could not be a mere accident. It is far too ordered and precise – planets orbiting around an untold number of “suns”, satellites orbiting around the planets, the cycle of the seasons on earth and doubtless other worlds beyond our knowledge, as has occurred for untold millions of years – is not by chance.
No, there has to be a Power, a Force, a God- call it what you will – that set this about with such precision and order – and has continued the process.
Throughout more than half my lifetime I thought of this Higher Power as being occupied with the larger enterprises of the Universe, and could hardly conceive of His taking time out from this vast work to be concerned about mankind – much less on an individual basis – or of his brief little blink of existence here. So gradually I became an Agnostic, that is to say I hoped Man meant something to Him, but I simply did not know for sure. On the other hand, I remember that all during this period I did some pretty fervent praying when things got desperate. I did not want to take any chances you see. How many of us at some time in their lives have done that?
In later years, however, I became more and more aware of guidance of some kind and my awakening to this feeling became deeper and deeper as I began to look back through my entire life at some of the terrible, tragic things which could have ended it, but didn’t. I have often asked myself, “Why am I still here?” I have no answer. I don’t know, and perhaps never will.
Has anyone ever asked you the question “Have you been saved?” How do you answer a question like that? Who knows? I certainly don’t.
But if someone were to ask me “Have you known God?” I think I should reply:
“Have I known God? Yes, I think I have. I have known the vastness of a shore less sea and have known the pounding surf on snow-white beaches with its roar and rumble as it crashes on cliffs and jutting rocks. I’ve known thick, green forests which blot the sun from view and craggy purple mountains capped with glittering snow, and, too, the vivid paint-splashed hues of autumn. I’ve known the silence of cities and fields in their winter blanket of soft white snow, and the ever changing shapes of billowing clouds which drift across an azure summer sky. I’ve known the blasting, roaring thunder amidst a violent, awesome storm. I’ve known the sound of children’s laugher and the warmth it brings to an aging heart, and the softness of a baby’s gentle touch as it nestles in sleep against my breast. Have I known God? I believe I have! I’ve known the quagmires into which all men can sink and for too seldom I much confess, glimpsed the way which Christ would have us live. I’ve walked in valleys of deep and dark despair and I’ve stood atop tall mountain peaks to see the world stretched out before me below. I’ve known, and felt, the glistening drops of dew on bespangled flowers in early morning light, and the long, lean shadows cast from the East by the clean and radian rising sun. I’ve known the soft-lit, velvet world that a full moon brings on a cloudless night, and the rainbow hues of the sky at sunset giving radiant promise of another day. Have I known God? I believe I have! Yet – that is for God to say. “
Auf Wiedersehen – God Bless You All.
Copyright 1986 - 2010 Sherrod/Scheretz Family
My Dad's Eulogy - 1986
