October 13, 2016
The day was warm, the tall grass wet our shoes in the old southern memory entrenched cemetery at Midway. Michael was there in his simple, yet rich looking wooden box while his family surrounded him. For me, it was something out of a movie - heartbreaking, yet when I blinked, I could see it was also beautiful and full of years of rich stories, kisses, songs sung, hugs, trips, steaks, baked potatoes, games and laughs.
Before Lynn, JT and I left for our final farewell, we received a blessing I'll hold with me forever. The house was quiet. A faint song could be heard in the background yet no radio or tv was on. We couldn't find where it was coming from. We searched until we found my phone across the room untouched and turned up the volume. The song below was playing. It was Michael telling us through his love of music that he was okay, he was in that better place. I'll never believe anything different.
A Better Place - Glen Campbell
I've tried and I have failed Lord.
I've won and I have lost.
I've lived and and I have loved Lord,
sometimes at such a cost.
One thing I know, the world's been good to me.
A better place, awaits you'll see.
Some days I'm so confused Lord, my past gets in my way
I need the ones I love Lord more and more each day.
One thing I know...
The world's been good to me.
A better place, awaits you'll see.
A better place.
We all asked God to heal Michael in prayer over and over physically. In the end we all finally got what we wanted -- spiritually. Michael beat cancer because cancer cannot follow him where his is now, in heaven.
Below is the eulogy JT spoke at his service along with happy memories and Michael's voice singing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLcC-rvwlqc
Thank you
all for coming today to support our family during this sad time. It truly is a testament to my dad, and all
our family, that you all came to show your love and support.
Michael
Turner was a son, a brother, a husband, a cowboy, a lineman, a builder, a
biker, a boater, a traveler, a musician, a singer…but above all to me…he was a
Dad. He was my Dad. He was my hero. He showed me that people can change…that there
is always hope…that I can always be better.
I could talk forever about what he was to me, but today I wanted to
share this…
There are
three things I will always carry with me that my Dad taught me.
1. When I would go to Michael with my
troubles, whether it was venting about work, or money, or any of a host of
problems…my Dad would listen. He would
offer advice sometimes, and sometimes he would let me figure it out on my
own. Inevitably, at the end of our
conversation he would say….Remember
son, millions of people would line up right now to trade places with you. In other words, we are blessed. God has blessed us immeasurably. Look at all the people here to pay their
respects, to show their love and support for Dad and our family. I feel blessed…and Dad taught me to
appreciate that.
The second thing my Dad would say is…..
2. If you show me how worrying will help, I will start worrying.
My Dad was not a worrier.
He just wasn’t. He realized that
worrying did not help the situation – it only made us stress even more. Now, that isn’t to say he didn’t care – I
think some of us often get that confused – but he was good at realizing what he
could control, and what he had to leave in God’s hands. To let go and let God. Even in the deepest depths of his struggle
with cancer, he wasn’t worried. He knew
things had gone past his control, and it was in God’s hands now. He knew his place in heaven awaited. That was a comfort to him. A comfort to his family. He didn’t worry – he just didn’t.
The third thing my Dad would say to me, and the most
important one of all is…..
3. I love you son.
Most that knew Michael I think would agree that he was indeed
a man’s man. Rugged, tough as nails –
but he had the heart of an angel. Dad
did not shy away from expressing his love – and also to show it. My wife said on Monday – every time I was in
a room with Michael, I felt his love. And
oh how he loved his family. I watched
him, and even when cancer had riddled his body, and was weakening his mind,
every time Lynn would help him…he looked up adoringly at her and said…”Thank
you, baby”. The love in his eyes and
voice…you could see it and even feel it.
Even then…his love permeated the room.
And he loved his sons and daughters…me, CJ, Jessica, Natalie and Rebecca
- titles like step and in laws were words that didn’t apply in Michael’s world
– just family - we were his sons and daughters.
And we were his grandbabies. How
he doted on his grandbabies…Dustin and Josh, and Skylar and Logan. From the moment he first held them, to
driving them around on hayrides, to singing Great Balls of Fire and Fire on the
Mountain to them and with them – he cherished them. And they loved The PawPaw.
And in his later years, Dad’s love often leaked out in his
tears. He showed me that a man could cry.
Some of you may not know it – but Dad
was a crier. A trait, as you all have
plainly seen, he passed on to me. And
I’m ok with that. I’m proud of that. For I am my father’s son.
These are just a few of the things my Dad taught me. I am not yet the man I wish to be – but I am
a better man because of my Dad. He made
me a better man. And isn’t that
something? Isn’t that something?
I’d like to
leave you with this poem I found. I
think it captures Michael’s spirit and his wish. It’s called:
I wish you enough.
I wish you enough sun
to keep your attitude bright no matter how grey the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain
to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough
happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain
so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain
to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss
to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough
hellos to get you through the final good-bye.
Good bye
Dad.
Once again,
on behalf of my Dad and Lynn and all of our family – thank you so much for
coming. It means the world to us. And to each and every one of you….I wish you
enough.
