Patiently, he waits as mother arranges us
Around the table; and when we're seated
He asks that we sing together.
Eyes closed, hands clasped,
He begins to sing, "God is so good,
God is so good, He's so good to me."
And then he prays a blessing
On his children, grandchildren,
And on the food,
Praying in hushed tones
To the Savior he loves so much.
Slowly he reaches for another piece of celery
As we still sit around the table
Busily chattering like noisy magpies.
Mother has finally seated herself
To enjoy her piece of pie
After serving the rest of us.
His blue plaid flannel shirt
Faintly echoes the softness of his smile
As he reaches over to stroke Mother's arm.
His heart, too, is warm and soft,
Like that flannel shirt.
At the door, his tender "good-bye"
And warm hug is coupled with
"God bless you, my daughter;"
I feel as loved and accepted by him
As if I were his own daughter.
Little do I know it is the last time
I will look into his "Jesus eyes,"
The tender-hearted eyes
Of a soul we called Irvin.
I am richer for having known him,
And I am doubly blessed to have his son
As my husband.
Elaine Beachy
November 29, 1994
Born in 1919 on the first day of spring, Irvin would have been 95 years old this week. He died on the first day of winter in 1991. My husband, David Weldon Beachy, looks so much like him, and my grandson Caleb Weldon is almost his "spittin' image!"
Irvin left his family a legacy of love and kindness. God bless you, Irvin.
Copyright © Elaine Beachy 2014
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