In memoriam

After a truly overwhelming response to my wife recent post about our family's heartbreaking, overwhelming, and adventurous April, I wanted to give a little more depth to why her father will be so sorely grieved and deeply missed, and not merely by our small family.

The following is the lightly edited text from the eulogy (there were five, and even that seemed scant) that I delivered on behalf of the family at the memorial for Rachel's father.  In preparing and drafting the  eulogy, I was amazed to see that after marrying his daughter and knowing him for fifteen years, I didn't know the half of what he had done over the course of his time among us.

Wes' adult life included an M.D., an MBA, 40 years of both marriage and a medical practice in which a conservative count had him treating upwards of 40,000 patients, as well as serving as an adjunct professor of medical standards at a University. He also spent time on the boards of the local crisis pregnancy center as well as the high school all three of his daughters attended.  (Not going to lie-- after reading that, I do wonder if he ever slept!)  And yet, none of those numbers can truly bring to light Wes' true legacy he left behind...

   

"Legacy"

It isn't easy putting into words all the wonderful ripples of a life well lived. It's even more difficult when that person is family.  It's especially difficult when that person is Wes Clayton, as the ripples of generosity seem to have turned into tidal waves of hope.  When I first met Wes, I saw him as somewhat of a larger-than-life figure, a lion among men. This may have come from the very first time I met him when I was 19 and had come to meet Rachel's parents for the first time.  He bounded over to meet me and smiled and said, "Hi! I'm Wes Clayton, Rachel's father."  What his eyes added was: "and if you mistreat her, I'm also a surgeon."

All joking aside, I'm beginning to think that my initial estimations as larger-than-life weren't too far off.  (After all, no one but an organizational superhero would respond to my request for a screwdriver when one of the Clayton's door hinges was loose with, "Well.... I've got about fifty screwdrivers.  They're all in different drawers by size and type, so I'll need a little more info first.")

Now, here at the conclusion of his life, I find that when I reflect on the legacy he left Maggie, his daughters Sarah, Rachel and Laura, and by adoption the remainder of our motley crew of husbands and grandchildren,  I am moved to gratitude.  It only seems natural to say "thank you" when we will be inheriting the fruit of the legacy he has passed down from generation to generation.  And so, though he's no longer here to receive his thanks, I wanted to say it anyway.

First, I wanted to say thank you for loving your wife above all else save his God. Wes and Maggie's nearly forty-one years of marriage was a testament to the faithfulness of God, it is true; it is also a testimony to hard work.  At the time they were married, there were no role models of a healthy (or even intact) marriage in either extended family.  My own eleven years of married bliss has taught me, if nothing else, that relationships are difficult enough with godly role models and helpful counsel to guide us along. Wes and Maggie had to start without some of those advantages.  But much as the nation of Israel marked with memorial stones the record of God's faithfulness when they crossed the River Jordan into the Promised Land, so Wes and Maggie's marriage vows and subsequent living of the vows they took stand as a memorial of a real and dynamic marriage for their children and grandchildren to emulate.  It wasn't perfect -- ask any of his daughters about how they saw their dad retrieving a toy shopping cart from the roof once after a stressful discussion-- but it was committed.  When I asked Wes the secret of his marriage success, he said, "I promised I'd never leave -- and I stuck to it. No matter how upset we got, we promised to stick around and hash it out." Thank you for sticking to it.

 

                                                                                          Wes praying for our marriage at our wedding

Second, I want to thank you for making your family a priority.  One of his favorite stories to tell embodied the delight he took in his family. It was at the very beginning of their marriage, as he had applied to medical school but had not received word as to whether he was accepted at the time of their wedding.  As the acceptance may have requires a move, it was stressful going on a honeymoon not knowing what would happen next.  They decided to go on their honeymoon anyway, and when the returned, voila! the acceptance letter was waiting in the mail. "I always thought that was a pretty clear sign that my family would come before my work," he would say, and then add with a smirk, "and Maggie only had to remind me a few times!"  While the working hours of an on-call surgeon may not seem ideal for convenient family time, your daughters always knew that they were a priority by the fact that any free time was spent with them.  Better than being a priority, they knew that they were loved-- unconditionally loved, Thank you for making them a priority.
 

 

Third, thank you for being a fantastic grandparent.  Personally, I want to thank you for making the grandchildren possible by not holding the first two years you knew me against me for the next thirteen. When we did finally start blessing you with grandchildren, I am grateful for how you supported us in our marriage and parenting, even though you couldn't have possibly agreed with everything we did as we blundered our way through learning how to skillfully parent. And though there is a learning curve to grandparenting, too -- one of my very favorite memories of Wes is Christmas 2010, where he followed behind one-year-old Elijah picking up every toy that Elijah flung to and fro in real time... eventually an uneasy truce where Elijah was confined to the basememt resulted -- and even though we live six hours away, our kids have always known how much their "Pa" loved them and looked forward to kayaking with him on week-long trips to the beach. They anticipated with delight the Christmas audiobooks that he and Maggie would make as he narrated their favorite stories.  These books, now one of the last treasured memories of his voice that he have left, will be saved for sharing the memories of Wes with the youngest children.  Even during his final illness, the prayers that they offered daily for him were not rote prayers stolen from us, but earnest prayers for a friend.  Thank you for making that relationship rich.
 
  
  

   



Finally, thank you for leaving a legacy worthy of a namesake.  Like many families, we give our children names with imbued meaning or name them after heroes or people of significance.  Our second son is Judah Clayton,  named after Wes.  He is already proud to be named after his grandfather, and year after year we will tell him more of the story of Wes -- of his perseverance in putting himself through medical school, of his hard work at his job, where he saved so many lives, of his musical talent, of his friends, but most importantly, of his faith in Jesus as his Rock. I think that Nicole Nordeman summed up my thoughts perfectly in her song "Legacy":

In the end I'd like to hang my hat
On more than the temporary trappings of this world
I want to leave a legacy 
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love?
Did I point to you
enough to make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace
Who blessed your name unapologetically
I want to leave a legacy...

Wes, if you were here I'd say, "Look at your legacy -- and be proud," for we gathered here are your legacy... and we will profoundly miss you.