January 27, 2008 Memorial Service for John Knelson
My father was a guiding light, a beacon, and an anchor to many, many people. I think more than anything two people stand out-- my mother and Brenda. His light shone with the spectrum of the rainbow-- and I know many of you can understand what I mean when I say sometimes it was bright yellow and sometimes more along the lines of dark blue. But all those different colors combined become true white, and all those who have been in his light have been given a gift. Now our father is in the ultimate light and his true light will continue to shine on us.
As I stood in the receiving line yesterday afternoon I was awestruck by the throngs of people coming to pay their respect. I realized that we were only the first of his five children, for he surely has tens of thousands. What a tribute-- his wisdom, integrity, compassion and faith have touched so many people in so many ways.
This thing I know is true-- Papa set the bar high and would accept nothing less. We as children were really rarely disciplined-- we would hardly dare not to attempt to reach that golden realm of knowing that we had pleased our Papa. For him to be disappointed in us was much worse than any spanking would render in terms of punishment. I think he has imparted this ideal to everyone who has known him-- go for the top and expect to reach it. Why strive for anything less? He said what he believed and believed what he said. He taught us to be independent, to think for ourselves and be accountable for our decisions.
Papa had an eye for detail, for efficiency, he liked things to run like clockwork and woe to the one who would put a kink that machine. I'm sure many of you have experienced the "look" or the "voice" that would make the hair on the back of your neck stand out. But just as quickly he would give you that tender, other "look" and reach out to give you the biggest bear hug that you would glow in the warmth of for a very long time.
Growing up in the depression, Papa tended to hold onto things, "just in case." So, as kids we were naturally very industrious and Papa taught us to use stuff to fix stuff rather than throw it away or buy a new one. I for one seem to have inherited the pack rat gene. "Don't throw that away," was one of his favorite sayings, whether it was a leftover meal or those infamous blue towels that permeate all our households. Who doesn't need a good blue towel? How about a GB? That is short for "good box," in case you didn't know.
But as hard as he might have been on all of us he was hardest on himself. I know there was a very dark period in Papa's life where he felt so tiny, so helpless. The puzzle pieces of his life were strewn about and not connected. His coming to Morehead City, to the "promised land" was the beginning of him picking up those pieces and putting them straight. All of us here are a piece of that great puzzle, each an individual, unique, important piece, for without any one of us the puzzle would not be whole. Brenda was the one who showed him that it wasn't really that hard to start-- you just had to surrender yourself and let something much, much bigger take over. With her help, guidance and unending love Papa took that leap. Thirteen years ago yesterday, Papa gave me a job at the clinic and it has been quite a journey. His mission became my mission quickly, and I've been by his side all these years, living his mission, dreaming his dream. Papa lived his life with such intention; he walked to the edge, listened, laughed, played and prayed. To have been a part of his life is a blessing, an honor, a gift.
My father was a guiding light, a beacon, and an anchor to many, many people. I think more than anything two people stand out-- my mother and Brenda. His light shone with the spectrum of the rainbow-- and I know many of you can understand what I mean when I say sometimes it was bright yellow and sometimes more along the lines of dark blue. But all those different colors combined become true white, and all those who have been in his light have been given a gift. Now our father is in the ultimate light and his true light will continue to shine on us.
As I stood in the receiving line yesterday afternoon I was awestruck by the throngs of people coming to pay their respect. I realized that we were only the first of his five children, for he surely has tens of thousands. What a tribute-- his wisdom, integrity, compassion and faith have touched so many people in so many ways.
This thing I know is true-- Papa set the bar high and would accept nothing less. We as children were really rarely disciplined-- we would hardly dare not to attempt to reach that golden realm of knowing that we had pleased our Papa. For him to be disappointed in us was much worse than any spanking would render in terms of punishment. I think he has imparted this ideal to everyone who has known him-- go for the top and expect to reach it. Why strive for anything less? He said what he believed and believed what he said. He taught us to be independent, to think for ourselves and be accountable for our decisions.
Papa had an eye for detail, for efficiency, he liked things to run like clockwork and woe to the one who would put a kink that machine. I'm sure many of you have experienced the "look" or the "voice" that would make the hair on the back of your neck stand out. But just as quickly he would give you that tender, other "look" and reach out to give you the biggest bear hug that you would glow in the warmth of for a very long time.
Growing up in the depression, Papa tended to hold onto things, "just in case." So, as kids we were naturally very industrious and Papa taught us to use stuff to fix stuff rather than throw it away or buy a new one. I for one seem to have inherited the pack rat gene. "Don't throw that away," was one of his favorite sayings, whether it was a leftover meal or those infamous blue towels that permeate all our households. Who doesn't need a good blue towel? How about a GB? That is short for "good box," in case you didn't know.
But as hard as he might have been on all of us he was hardest on himself. I know there was a very dark period in Papa's life where he felt so tiny, so helpless. The puzzle pieces of his life were strewn about and not connected. His coming to Morehead City, to the "promised land" was the beginning of him picking up those pieces and putting them straight. All of us here are a piece of that great puzzle, each an individual, unique, important piece, for without any one of us the puzzle would not be whole. Brenda was the one who showed him that it wasn't really that hard to start-- you just had to surrender yourself and let something much, much bigger take over. With her help, guidance and unending love Papa took that leap. Thirteen years ago yesterday, Papa gave me a job at the clinic and it has been quite a journey. His mission became my mission quickly, and I've been by his side all these years, living his mission, dreaming his dream. Papa lived his life with such intention; he walked to the edge, listened, laughed, played and prayed. To have been a part of his life is a blessing, an honor, a gift.
I'll close with Luke 8:16-17
No one lights a lamp and hides it in a jar or puts it under a bed. Instead, he puts it on a stand, so that those who come in can see the light. For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open.
Papa has put his light on a stand for us all to see. He has passed on the torch.
Lise Knelson Fondren
