My Eulogy for Grandpa

The morning after my grandpa passed away, I spoke to my mom. She filled me in on all of the wake and funeral details, and also asked me if I would be a pallbearer and do the eulogy.

I started writing it Monday night, the day before the wake, only to essentially rework the entire thing on Tuesday night after the wake.

In the end, I was very happy with the final result. I don't know that I did my grandpa all the justice he deserved, but I felt I came as close as I possibly could. Although the below may not exactly match what I said -- I spoke from note cards and only later transcribed the full speech -- I think it's pretty close.

As I finished speaking, I heard a clap from behind me, and then the rest of the church joined in. As it turns out, it was the priest that was the first one to clap. He very well may do that for all eulogies, but it made me feel good to get a round of applause at all, and especially from the priest ... especially after my family had fought such a battle with the parish's bereavement lady to let the eulogy happen at church at all.

Anyway, here's roughly what I said at my grandpa's funeral mass:

Good morning everyone,

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Bob Wothe and I am Bob Ollerman’s grandson. On behalf of myself, my grandma, my mom, my uncle and the rest of our families, I want to thank all of you so much for being here today. It’s so good to see so many people who cared so much about my grandpa — from those of you I’ve known to those of you I just met, it’s really special to have so many people here to help us say goodbye. It really means a lot.

I don’t imagine that any eulogy is ever an easy one to give, but I feel a little bit of extra pressure here today because my grandpa was always the MC of various events, always the man behind the microphone … so I’ll try to do you proud here today grandpa.

I do have to say, though, that I feel a bit unqualified giving this eulogy because I’ve only been here for 28 of his amazing 86 years. Fortunately, though, my grandpa was a great storyteller. In fact, he was so good at telling stories that he could tell them multiple times and I would still love it every time.

For example … have you ever heard how he won World War II?

I had to mention that because if I heard it once, I heard it 500 times. For those of you who haven’t heard it before, my grandpa of course served in World War II and was on a ship headed to Japan when they surrendered. He knew how lucky he was to not be involved in any of the intense fighting of the war, but of course he always said since he was on that ship, they knew he was coming and didn’t want any part of him.

I wanted to share that story today not only because it was his most famous story, but it sums up how lighthearted he was and how much he liked to enjoy himself. In talking to people yesterday, the thing I heard more than anything else was how much fun he was to be around. He had a line for everyone and every occasion with his legendary wit.

My grandpa connected to people and left his mark on them. I’ll never forget how people less than half his age would come up to him and say, “Hey Ole, how you doing? How’ve you been?” every time we were out in public. I was consistently blown away by the number of people he knew and appreciated him.

And I think people liked him so much because he had such a bright outlook on life. He made life fun and made the people around him feel good. He just enjoyed being alive, and everyone who was around him understood that immediately.

There’s one story in particular that I shared in the obituary but wanted to share one last time because I think it sums up how much he enjoyed life so well. It’s probably my favorite memory of him. I was 10 years old and pitching in the championship game of my summer baseball league. I recorded the final out and started running off the field, but I didn’t get far. Grandpa always had some knee issues and was dealing with that, but that day I think he covered 40 yards in about 4 seconds flat to run on to the diamond and give me a huge hug to celebrate with me.

And I just really think beyond meaning so much to me and making me feel so good that day, it sums up how invested in life’s moments he was — how invested in other people’s lives and happiness he was — he just couldn’t contain himself from celebrating the success of others.

Even in his later years, grandpa still wanted to get out and live his life. We would go to the bar on Saturday afternoons — of course I had to pick him up at 2:30 so he could be home for dinner by 5 — but he would tell me stories all the time. And, like I said earlier, he would tell me the same stories a lot, but one in particular kept coming up and really hit home with me.

To sum it up briefly, he had the opportunity to make more money at the railroad, but it would have required working nights.

He passed it up.

He was happy making what he was making what he was making and living how he was living. And he realized he already had it all — he had a wife and kids he loved at home, his nights free to spend time with them and do other things he loved, be it bowling, baseball, and so on.

And I always thought to myself … in today’s world, and especially my generation, everyone wants more all the time. Nothing is every enough. But grandpa had his priorities figured out and he knew what was important. We’re all here to have a little fun, and I think anyone here today would tell you that my grandpa had plenty.

I’ll remember so many other things about him:

• Watching him bowl: Obviously, my grandpa lived bowling, and it was so cool to see him do it. We should all be so lucky to find something we’re so passionate about and leave the kind of mark he did in the bowling community.
• The attention he paid to that old white fence in the backyard: I think he nearly drove my grandma crazy for a while there.
• The martinis he drank that could get you drunk from five feet away.
• Singing Christmas carols in the car on the way home from John and Dolores’ on Christmas Eve, which may or may not have had something to do with those martinis.
• The stories about the pools he ran at the Soo Line: I talked to a few retirees yesterday and they said, yep, we were in those.
• The stories he told me about good times with friends at Brickles bar and other family events from before my time.
• And that pile of coins on his kitchen table that never seemed to get smaller: Father Ryan mentioned coins earlier and I know I’ll think of grandpa any time I have one in my hand.

Now we’ve all shed some tears in the past few days, but that’s OK because grandpa wore his heart on his sleeve. He wasn’t afraid to cry. My grandma was always the strong, steady one. And grandma, you and grandpa were such a perfect match and complemented each other so well.

I remember when my wife Candeth and I got married, right here in this church actually, we said to each other that we hope we can have the kind of marriage and be as great together as my grandma and grandpa. I want to thank you, grandma, and thank you, grandpa, for setting such a great example for us.

And that example he set is, to me, my grandpa’s enduring legacy. I remember being in grade school and our teachers would ask us who our hero was. My classmates would say someone like Michael Jordan or Brett Favre or some other athlete.

I would always say my grandpa.

And to this day, and for the rest of my life, I’ll consider him my role model. If I can be even half the husband, father, grandfather, uncle, brother-in-law and friend he was, I know I will have lived an absolutely amazing life. Thank you, grandpa, for all you did for me over the years and everything you were. I love you and I hope they have Schlitz in heaven.