[My son-in-law, Peter C. Franklin lost his battle with cancer on August 8th, 2014. This is the longer version of remarks I gave at his memorial service]
I did not wear a suit to this evening’s memorial in solidarity with Peter. I believe in the hereafter, and in my version Peter is wearing a Batman tee-shirt and a pair of shorts, the latter because he no longer has to be embarrassed about wearing compression socks. I wanted to wear a Batman tee-shirt tonight, but it was impossible to find one in my extra-large size. There were a smattering of mediums, but the majority of shirts were small. I think there’s a lesson to be learned from my search: superheroes like Peter only come in small sizes!
Don’t let all the talk about superheroes fool you. Peter Franklin was also a world-class intellectual, but the thing that set Peter apart in my mind was the fact that he was one of the humblest individuals I’ve ever met. Brilliance and humility don’t frequently go hand in hand. With Peter, they did. The guy didn’t have a single conceited bone in his body. The world has lost a true gem.
Peter became my son the first time I met him, not because my daughter, Abby had already told me how crazy about him she was, but because I saw something in the way he looked at her that set my mind at ease. It wasn’t a starry-eyed gaze, a fawning facade or the fake expression of somebody trying to make a good impression. In fact, I’m quite certain he didn’t realize I was watching. What I observed was a young man interested in what my daughter had to say, curious about what she thought, unafraid to challenge her opinions or argue for his own, but not overbearing or disrespectful. Peter exuded a humble confidence that the world is in such short supply of these days, and I could tell by the way Peter and Abby spoke that they valued one another in a way that good people should. Sometimes, you just know that two people are right for each other. I know I did, and I gained a son because of it. Now, he’s gone, and I have to admit there’s a big hole in my heart.
It’s a testament to Peter’s diverse interests there are so many things in my daily life that remind me of Peter. Whenever I see somebody wearing a superhero tee-shirt, I think of Peter. If I hear about Toronto’s crazy mayor or the Comic-Con Convention, I think about Peter. Whenever I pass the classics section in a bookstore, Peter’s face comes to mind. I even think about him in the supermarket. There’s a case in the vegetarian section where black bean vegetarian burgers are kept. Peter once assured me that those burgers were very tasty, and I assured him that there was not enough ketchup in the world for me to eat one!
A few days ago, I was writing at the desk in my den when my gaze fell upon the bronze paperweight that Abby and Peter gave out at their wedding last year. The paperweight bears an inscription from a line written by the poet, E. E. Cummings – “Love is the voice under all silences.” As I pondered that inscription, it occurred to me that while Peter’s physical voice has been silenced, the voice behind his love has never been louder. If you allow yourself, you can hear that voice, you can feel it, you can be warmed by it, and it will comfort you for as long as you live!
No comments:
Post a Comment