A REMEMBRANCE OF LOUIS GROSENBAUGH

Each of us will remember you in a different way: by your smile and wit, your helping hand, your leadership, or your persistence and dedication to a cause. I hope many of those here are thinking good thoughts right now.

I will remember you first as a father, a teacher, and a friend; but also as a gardener, a craftsman, a musician, a community servant, and all of the other things you were.

As a father, you built our family with a firm tradition of togetherness and love. I remember...as does Carol...the trips and activities which we enjoyed together as a family.

There are those little incidents that come to mind, and which you still talked about, like the time I caught a turtle on a fishing pole at Chippewa Lake and dropped the pole and ran. Or the time I fell through the candy store window or the time the horse tramped on your white shoes.

We will remember always the camping and outdoor experiences to which you exposed us. I can't forget either the persistence you had in getting me to learn to swim. How very glad I am you gently nudged me to do that. But you were always trying to get us to reach higher and extend ourselves.

And, of course, you had to act as a doctor, getting us through minor scrapes and bruises of childhood but also such major problems as pneumonia and a broken back. I will never forget the tender, loving care you gave.

I remember the support you gave Carol and me in our high school and college years. You and Mom were doers, volunteering to do those things that needed to be done for the benefit of your children. We are what we are today because you and Mom cared. You gave us as much freedom as we could handle. You helped us make decisions but did not make them for us.

I can see you trudging through all kinds of weather to deliver the mall, giving friendly greetings to all along the way. Then you would work in the evenings to take care of lawns so you could support your family.

You wanted a better education than you had for your children and you saw that we got it. We chose where we were headed in our careers with your guidance, but not pressure.

For all these things, Dear Dad, Carol and I thank you.

To me...and hundreds of other young men, you will always be the great Scouter, the great teacher and shaper of youth. Your Scouting work over some 45 years has molded the lives of young men all over the country. I've read some of the letters you've received from those former Scouts and talked to others, or their parents, in the community.

I have many happy memories of the camping trips we took. You taught me to be self-sufficient and to love the land. You taught me about right and wrong, about honesty, about friendships.

You made a big difference in all our lives. It was a very proud day for me when you got the well-deserved Silver Beaver and Scouter of the Year Awards.

They say you can tell a lot about a man from the contents of his wallet. I know now how you felt about Scouting because I found this "Scouter's Prayer" you carried in your wallet.

Dear Lord,from your Judgment Seat on high,
Look down on a Scouter such as I.
Search me thru and find me whole,
Then help me Lord to reach my goal.

Help me Lord to work for Thee,
Guard my homeland - keep free.
Help me to work with others and be kind,
Helpful with my hands and mind.

Keep me Lord, both well and strong,
To help our growing boys along.
Control my thoughts, keep them right,
Sound, clean weapons for life's fight.

Protect my morals, keep them high,
Grant this to a Scouter such as I.

We know, from your good deeds, that God answered your prayer.

You were a religious man and brought us up in the church for which I will be eternally grateful.

There are other happy images that I will call upon forever in remembering you.

I see you in the garden tending your roses, hoeing your corn, or watering your tomatoes or improving the yards of your children or your relatives. You had a great love for the land and growing things and a green thumb to go with it. Whenever I see or smell a rose I will think of you.

I will also think of the poem I also found in your wallet that I know you liked to share with others. I hope we will all give some thought to what it says.

 

I would rather have a little rose from the garden of a friend,
Than flowers strewn around my casket when my days on earth must end.

I would rather have a living smile from one I know is true,
Than tears shed 'round my casket when this world I bid adieu.

Bring me all the flowers today, whether pink or white or red.
I would rather have one blossom now than a truckload when I'm dead.

I know you got the flowers and smiles while you were alive but we still feel the need to give you flowers and smiles today as well.

I see you puttering around your basement workshop turning out your copper work and other crafts you did so well. Your artwork will have an honored place on my wall.

I can smell the odor of fermenting grapes that came with your role as "little old winemaker Louie." It was another way in which you could give enjoyment to others.

I can see the smile on your face when you beat Mom at cards and the playful little swat she gave you because you did. There was great fun in spending an evening around the card table.

I see you concentrating intently at recording music on the stereo equipment which brought you so much pleasure.

I'll remember vividly you playing in the senior citizen band on a little old drum you bought for me with Mom by your side on her maracas. It was a good example of how you kept active in retirement.

You never let up, doing everything you tried with great enthusiasm and vigor.

I could go on and on about the good times but I want to keep the rest of my memories for those times when I will miss you the most.

Through all the memories, I see love and understanding and support for your children in their ups and downs whether they were at home or far away. You taught by example.

I see true and long-lasting love and devotion for Mom that, though suddenly interrupted physically, will continue on through all eternity. It is a love that spanned 60 years and will serve as an inspiration for others.

I see involvement and concern for others in all the energy committed to community service.

All of these things continued almost up to your last breath. And that's the way you wanted it. I know, because I also found this poem...one you wrote yourself...in your wallet. You called it "My Greatest Wish."

To be of great wealth,
I have no desire.

As a man of esteem,
I would soon tire.

What then is my greatest wish
You ask?

To answer that query
Is no great task.

My greatest wish
On this earth, my friend,
Is to live in good health
'Til the very moment
My life doth end.

You not only got your wish of good health, Dad, but the wealth and esteem as well.