My Eulogy For Lance

On November 11, my dear friend Lance (OK, his real name is Al) passed away suddenly at the age of 49. I was privileged to be asked to deliver one of the eulogies in his honor. Having never done that before, I wasn't sure exactly what I should (or shouldn't) say. I only knew that I would not let pass from me that opportunity to honor one of the greatest friends a man could have.

So, I stood behind the pulpit from which Al had led congregational singing and even preached, before a capacity crowd estimated by some to be around 400 people, with my friend's casket in front of and below me.

Following are my remarks, as best as I can remember them from that emotional day and borrowing from the notes I scribbled on the Fairfield Inn notepad. I have included some things I meant to say but didn't, mostly due to time constraints, but I don't think I have left anything out.

I hope it was good enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first rule of high-wire tightrope walkers is, “Don’t look down.” I am thinking that if I don’t look down, I will be able to make it through this okay. I am not a very verbal person by nature so, in honor of my dear friend Al, I will try to keep my remarks short.

I cannot remember the first time I met Al. He is kind of like that old jacket in your closet--you can’t ever recall where or when you picked it up, it just seems as though it has always been around. You only know that it is comfortable and warm, and you like it enough that you never plan to get rid of it.

We have known each other since the early 1980s, maybe ‘82 or ‘83. We played a lot of softball together for about ten years or so. For awhile, I batted leadoff and he batted second, forcing me out at second base anytime he hit the ball on the ground because he hit it so hard. Finally, I hatched a plan that we should switch spots in the order.

Al was much faster than I, so he would lead off with a base hit and I, having learned to hit to the opposite field, would advance him to second base with a ground out or to third with a simple single to right field, and occasionally, with his great speed, he would score. Even today, he has arrived Home ahead of me.

In the twenty-plus years that I have known Lance (we called him “Lance” for his uncanny mid-1980s resemblance to Lance Parrish, the slugging Tiger catcher from two decades ago), I have accumulated volumes--no, bookshelves--of stories about him. But, they are preparing today’s luncheon downstairs, not Friday’s breakfast, so I cannot take the time to relate as many as I would like…not today, anyway.

There are two words (among many others, of course) that will always come to mind when I remember Al. The first one is integrity. A mutual friend of ours noted that, whatever else some may think of him, amidst many ministerial failures of others over the years, Billy Graham has always maintained his integrity. No one has laid any charge of impropriety at his doorstep in his many years of ministry. Likewise with my friend Al. I know of no one who has anything bad to say about him.

Al would never consider doing anything that would besmirch his reputation, nor that of his wife, his family, his church, or his Lord. In fact, he oozed so much integrity that we sometimes joked that he was hardly any fun to be with anymore.

The other key word that has marked Alan Mol’s life is love. Now, with his cars he has had a love/hate relationship. He loved them (if there was a half of an insect wing on his windshield, you know he would stop at the next gas station to squeegee it off) and his cars, well, they didn’t always reciprocate.

(Ask Debbie about our double-date to Detroit to see the Red Wings--their first date!--when the radiator overheated on our arrival at Joe Louis Arena. After the game, concessionaires at the arena gave us two big pickle jugs full of water that we carried all the way to the top of the ramp and accross the lot to the car. We used them to refill the radiator at almost every gas station on the way back to Grand Rapids. It was so late when we returned home that we decided to go out for breakfast! Or, ask my dad about how Al knows everyone who lives along I-196 to Holland because his cars had broken down so many times on his way to work.)

Automobiles notwithstanding, Al’s love for people was perhaps the hallmark of his life. You can see that by glancing about the auditorium today at the many people whose lives he has touched. I assure you that there are many more who desired to be here but could not due the restrictions of time and distance.

There might have been a time when verbal expressions of love would not have been particularly easy for him as he was not one to bandy such a word about carelessly. He would refrain from a casual, “I love you,” perhaps because he understood better than many of us all that love entails: surrender, sacrifice, selflessness. Doesn’t mean he didn’t love you, he just didn’t like throwing the “L” word around without having established that level of commitment in his own mind.

In recent years, he seemed more comfortable in expressing his love with the spoken word, for example, at the end of a phone call. Mostly, though, Al expressed his love for us by the things he chose to do for us. He is a servant.

(I speak of Al in the present tense because one thing that really bugs me about funerals is that we sometimes speak of those who have passed on as though they have ceased to exist. Al still is, he just isn’t still here. As the song by Big Daddy Weave says, “When I say my last farewells, don’t forget to tell them, that I’m not really dead, I’m just changing neighborhoods.”)

Of course, he loves his wife, and our dear friend, Debbie. Could any husband and wife be more different? Yet, they have been united in their devotion to the Lord and in their desire to serve Him, which they have done very well during their nineteen years of marriage.

(You may not know that I was instrumental in bringing the two of them together in the early days. During a game of Bible Charades, I drew “Noah’s Ark” and so I began pairing off guys and girls and marching them across the front of the room. Of course, I matched The New Girl with “Lance Romance.” The rest, as they say, was history.)

Al also loves his family very much, as he has so often told me.

Al loves all of you, too, and people in general. He has always expressed his interest in people in the way he knows best--by talking to them. He would talk to anyone about anything at anytime. Once, upon returning to his former workplace to visit his former coworkers, Al reminded them of an earlier conversation when someone told him, “Al, if you could get a job talking to people, you’d be the happiest man in town.”

“Now I have that job,” he told them, “and I am the happiest man in town.”

Many Sunday nights after church, when we were in our 20s, we would stop at Mr. Fables to eat and, upon setting his tray on the table, Al would go off in search of people (other than those with him) for conversation, and then wonder upon his return to our booth why there were no strawberries left in his strawberry pie. Hmmmm…..?

Talking could sometimes get Al into trouble. It’s true. One time, he and I had just finished playing video games at the arcade in the bowling alley--we were in our 20s--when we stopped at Arby’s for a sandwich a little after midnight. I ordered and was ready to go on with my life but Al made inquiries of the young woman behind the counter in his usual folksy way, always as a means of setting up an witnessing opportunity.

“My name’s Al. So, what’s your name?”

“Sarah.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Do you live around here?”

“I live right across the street, about three blocks from here.”

“What time do you get off work?”

“I’m done at 3AM. My parents are out of town and I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

By that time, my flashing yellow light had gone to red and I extricated him from any embarrassment that might ensue once he realized that the two of them were on totally different tracks. Once seated, he innocently asked me, “What did she think I wanted?”

“I don’t know, Al. Eat your fries.”

You’ll have to ask me about the blood donation story later. I am not sure that one is suitable for this particular audience.

Author Steve Brown has said that he never elevates someone to “hero” status while they are still alive because there is always that chance that they will mess up. “Then, I’ll be all disappointed and disillusioned and have to take them off my list. So, I only have dead heroes. They can’t mess anything up now.”

I am proud to say that Alan Mol is now no longer only my friend, but he is now also my hero. He has taught me so much--sadly, I have not be able to learn it all quite as fast as I would like, but I am trying. He has shown me how to resolve conflicts, how to speak to strangers, how to love others, and how to not take one’s self too seriously.

Thinking about those lessons learned from Al helped me realize something in these past few days. Al’s life here was a relatively short one by our count, but his is the rare life best measured not by the length of his years but by the breadth of his influence.

The way that we can best remember Al is to apply the many lessons he has taught to each one of us. Cultivate integrity and love for the Savior and for others around us, those dear to us and strangers, too. If we can begin to do those things, we will never forget Al. He will become a little bit of the expression of everything we do every day.
posted by Turn2 @ 1:20 AM

4 Comments:

At December 01, 2006 10:38 PM
David,
Wow!! What an honor you have gave to your buddy "Lance". I forgot all about that! LOL! I guess it's in life's end that we see the importance of what we have or don't have in our lives.
Thanks for posting that. You did good!
I enjoyed it very much!
Your little sis,
Dee


At December 02, 2006 1:22 PM
Someones life legacy is far greater then anything else they can leave behind! He was and still is an amazing person, God has and will continue to use his life to bring Honor and Glory to Himself. That is what Al's purpose for living was and that should be our focuss as well. The only thing that matters at the end of this life/the beginning of a greater life is what you did for God and not yourself. Al got rewarded for that very thing, when he looked upon the face of his Creator and Savior (How amazing that would have been). You did a great job Sr. Thank you so much for sharing what was on your heart!
His Servant,
Cassandra Carrillo


At December 05, 2006 3:11 PM
WOW!!!
what a difficult thing to have to do. i believe you did it weel though. isn't it amazing what we forget sometimes? and what we remember. i've thought of several moleizims over these last weeks and so far they are still bringing quite a sharp pain in the center of my heart.
he will be greatly missed.
Rossi


At December 28, 2006 9:45 PM
Reading your eulogy reminded me of many good memories of the early 80's when Al & Debbie were still dating, the hotspot of Mr. Fables, Farrells Ice Cream on the Beltline, car rallies planned by the famous David that drove me crazy, etc. What an awesome chapter in our lives those days were and they would never have been nearly as fun if Al wasn't part of them. Truly we wer blessed to have his influence in our lives. And just as true is the reality that someday each of us will face the end of our days in this life to move on into eternity. What an impact Al made in countless lives for eternity - only God knows how many. May each of us remember to lift up dear Debbie in the weeks and months to come as she adjusts to life without Al. I simply can't imagine what she must be going through but at the same time am grateful she does not walk that road alone. She has a heavenly father who we know is walking along beside her and no doubt the many friends and family members she has in the Bay City area who are carefully watching over her as she attempts to carry on without the love of nearly 20 years. May we remember the date of 11/11 in the years to come and to contact Debbie to let her know we are praying for her still. Thanks Dave for all the memories your brought back to life.
Mishelle (Wood) Schoen