Walter and Frances Blackley were married on the Tuesday before Valentine’s Day, February 13, 1945. They were married for 58 years. In February 2003, they both passed away, ten days apart, around Valentine’s Day. So each time Valentine’s Day rolls around, I remember them and their wonderful love story. The following are the words from their memorial services.
On February 8, 2003 I said…
This scripture text contains one of the most beautiful prayers found in the Bible. In fact, it is more of a hymn than it is a prayer. It is a wonderful hymn of celebration consisting of verses found in the Hebrew Scriptures from the book of Isaiah. It is the last hymn of righteous and devout man named Simeon.
Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of al peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for the glory to your people Israel.
This was the last prayer of a righteous and devout man, named Simeon. I want to suggest that this was also the last prayer of a righteous and devout man named Walter Blackley.
Simeon was able to sing this prayer, because Simeon was given the blessed opportunity to hold the Christ Child in his arms. Simeon was given the opportunity to hold the hope for the world in his arms. Simeon was given the blessed opportunity to hold grace in his arms.
More than perhaps anyone that I know, I believe Walter was also a holder of grace.
Allow me to define the concept of grace for you by asking you a few questions:
What do you call a seventy-something-year-old man who was able hit a baseball and ran the bases with his grandson during a little league’s parents’ day?
I believe you call that grace.
What do you call an eighty year old man riding a jet ski with his thirteen-year old granddaughter?
I believe you call that grace.
What do you call someone who valiantly served his country in the Second World War, surviving untold horrors, without loss of limb and life?
You call that grace.
What do you call someone who contracted malaria that sent him home to a military hospital until the end of the war where soon after he married his girl named Frances with whom he shared 58 long years of happiness?
What do you call the gift of a small farm which provided needed therapy which helped a war veteran overcome the dreadful experiences of war?
You call that grace.
What do you all someone who was given the gift of three beautiful daughters and the gift of four beautiful grandchildren? What do you call the miracle of Vida Mclawhorn who has and continues to confound medical science and inspire us all?
You call that grace.
Walter understood that these gifts—this gift of abundant life, this gift of vigorous health, this gift of miraculous strength, and the gifts of love—were all completely unearned and underserved gifts of God’s amazing grace.
This is what I believe made Walter such a wonderful man. This is what I believe made him so endearing and so loving to so many people. This is why I believe Walter lived is life and served others in the community with such incredible integrity. This is why he treated everyone the same regardless of their ethnicity and regardless of their religion. This is what gave this endearing man such a wonderful sense of humor.
Walter understood that it was God’s grace which kept him going so strong so late in his life. Always in a hurry. One of Walter’s all time favorite sayings was: “C’mon Frances, we got it go!”
It was the amazing grace of God which enabled him to mow is own lawn every summer, even this last summer. . .with a push mower. Walter Blackley was indeed a holder of grace.
Like Simeon, Walter had been given the wonderful opportunity to hold the Christ Child in his arms. He had been given the opportunity in his eighty-six years to hold the promise of strength and the promise of help in times of trouble which was found through his relationship with Christ. Walter had been given the opportunity to hold hope and salvation in his arms.
I believe this is what compelled this man to attend Sunday School and worship so faithfully Sunday after Sunday. Walter came to church, even during the past year when the pain in his neck and shoulder was the greatest, because Walter realized that all that he had, and all that he had received were unearned, undeserved gifts of God’s amazing grace.
I believe the best news for us is that we who loved Walter and were loved by Walter, are also holders of grace. We are holders of grace because we too have been given a wonderful gift. We too have been given a gift which was completely unearned and undeserved. For we each of been given the gift of Walter—of knowing him and loving him and being loved by him. And when we can consider this, I believe our mourning and grief can be and will be transformed into thanksgiving and joy.
And in what may be more difficult, I believe we should also consider that we are holders of grace because have also been given the peaceful, gracious death of Walter. I have heard many Christians tell me that they do not fear death. It is dying that they fear. Christians do not fear going to be with God, it is the pathway to God that we fear—it is the suffering we fear. Yes, the way that Walter died is yet one more reason that I believe the last prayer of Simeon was the last prayer of Walter.
And I believe we also need to consider that we, like Simeon and like Walter, have also been given the gift of the gift of the Christ child. We too have been given the gift of the promise of strength and help in times of trouble. As God had delivered Walter through so many of life’s storms, we can know that God can and will do the same for us. God will see us through our grief and our pain, and God will one day see us through our deaths, as God has seen Walter through his. We are indeed holders of hope, holders of salvation, and holders of grace.
And hopefully, we too will one day be able to sing the prayer of Simeon and the prayer of Walter Blackley:
Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.
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On February 19, 2003 I said…
I need to say it, because during the last three days, we have all have been thinking it. We have said it silently to ourselves and out loud to others.
Frances was always just a few steps behind her husband, Walter.
It was like Walter had called from heaven, “Come on Frances, we got to go!” Frances was always a few steps behind Walter because Frances loved to tell a story. Walter would say, “Frances, we’ve got to go” or “They’ve got to go. They’ve already heard that story ten times!”
And she would respond, “Well, I’m going to tell it again!” Then she would say: “That man’s been rushing me since the day we got married!”
Yes, Frances loved to tell a story. And this woman was the perfect story teller because she knew a little something about everything. She was one of the most well-read ladies that I know. She was also one of the most faithful Christians that I know. Thus, many of her stories, her grandchildren recall, were like Aesop’s Fables. She had a story for everything, and each story taught us a valuable lesson about life. Carol, Janice and Vida, your lives and your children’s lives have been enriched forever because of those stories. You are who you are—strong, caring, compassionate, loving, Christian—because of the many wonderful stories Frances told. Her stories taught you to avoid gossip and pettiness. Her stories taught you not to sweat the small stuff; to respect and to love everyone the same. Her stories taught you to work hard, to be fair and to keep it simple.
Her stories taught you about love. That love is patient and kind. That love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. That love does not insist on its own way. It is not irritable or resentful. It does not rejoice in wrong doing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.
Many of us have said to one another and said to ourselves that Frances died the way Frances lived: Ten steps behind her husband, Walter, telling stories.
Frances spent the last ten days telling and retelling a wonderful love story that mimics a fairy tale. Eleven days ago, Frances had the rare opportunity to share this love story with her entire family and a host of friends:
A love story of a seventeen-year-old beautiful stenographer from Salisbury named Frances who had eyes for a handsome, confident 25 year old named from Franklinton named Walter— A love story of a courtship that was only six months old when the couple was separated as Walter was called to serve his country during the Second World War— A love story of a long distance relationship which endured two-and-one-half years as the two sent exchanged love letters between Salisbury and New Guinea— A love story of a young man who came home from the war to meet his girl in Salisbury on a Monday, and to elope the next day on Tuesday, the day before Valentine’s Day. Frances told us of a love story which encompassed fifty-eight years of marriage— A love story about a couple who were completely devoted to their family, supportive of every good thing their children did— A love story of a couple who always stayed together, always worked together, always worshipped together and always played together— A love story of a couple who spent many Saturday nights dancing together in their living room to ball room dance tunes emanating from their television tuned to the Lawrence Welk Show.
This past week I believe that Frances also told us another love story. However, this story was not told with mere words. This story was told more with her life. This story was told more with her tremendous faith in God. One of the grandchildren showed me Walter and Frances’ big family Bible. Throughout the book, from Genesis to Revelation, there are dates written on the pages with two initials, “W.” and “F.” Beginning in Genesis, Walter and Frances read the Bible together and then dated and initialed each passage. They did this for years until they finished reading the Bible from cover to cover.
Yes, Frances loved to tell a story, but more importantly, Frances loved to tell the story. With her life and with her faith, and with the word of God engraved on her heart, with tremendous fortitude, Frances shared with us the love story of God. –The love story of a God who has promised to never leave us or forsake us. –The love story of a God who walks with us in the valley of the shadow of death no matter how many times we are forced to walk there –The love story of a God who promises to be present with us through the storms of life and to see us through them—The love story of a God who always gives us the strength that we need to face any trial and any tribulation—The love story of a God who is always in our world working all things together for the good—The love story of a God who has given us the wonderful gift of God’s self, the gift of the Spirit and the gift of the Church.
One of the first things that Frances said to me after Walter’s death was, “Jarrett, I have said it before, and I will say it again: “If you are going to have to go through trouble in this world, there is no better place to be than the church.” Frances loved her church. She knew that it was through her church and through her many relationships in the church that she was going to be alright. She was so looking forward to attending her circle meeting on the Monday after Walter’s death.
Frances’ tremendous faith was unwavering. She was so strong, so hopeful.
Over and over and over again, with her life and with her faith, Frances has shared with us the love story of God— The love story of a God who promises each of us who have lost so much recently that we too, are going to be alright— The love story of a God of resurrection and of hope— The love story of a God who is in the business of transforming our sorrow into joy, our despair into hope and death into life— The love story of a God who has brought life, abundant and eternal to Walter and Frances through resurrection and who is working even now to transform our shock and grief and pain into peace.
I believe God has already done that for many of us. When we first heard the tragic news of Frances’ sudden death, we were shaken and dismayed beyond belief. But then the God of resurrection came, and the God of resurrection began to work. And it was not long before the look of bewilderment on our faces was transformed into great big smiles.
“Come on. Frances, we got to go!” he said.
“That man has been rushing me since the day I married him!” she quipped.
“Come on Frances, they have heard that story already ten times!”
“Walter, you are going to have to wait, because I am going to tell it again!”
And that is exactly what she did.
She told us one more time the story— the story of unseen things above— the story of Jesus and his glory, the story of Jesus and his love. She loved to tell the story, because she knew it to be true. It satisfied her longings as nothing else can do.
My prayer for the Blackley family and for all of us who grieve is a simple one. Remember the love story of God which was shared over and over again by this beautiful woman. May the love story of God, which was Frances’ story become our story. May this story fill us with courage and with strength. And may we spend the rest of our days sharing this story with others, until that day comes when we will see the couple again face to face, as we will one day see God face to face.
Just Love 