Month: January 2013

Tonight I share with you the tribute written and shared by my brother-in-law Dan….

In the past, my family has gathered and enjoyed so much of life, laughed, shared, celebrated and occasionally cried together…

This past week we cried more than ever, but still shared moments of laughter and wonderful memories…

Dan’s tribute captures those memory moments in such a delightful way….thank you Dan for inviting us to laugh and celebrate the funny and generous guy Len was….

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My name is Dan DeKam and I am married to Len’s sister, Arlene.  It is my honor to be here today.

Men aspire to have lived a life of significance.  We want to leave our mark, to have made a difference.  I don’t fully understand this desire, but I do believe it originates in our created nature – for God has made us in his image- creative, purposeful, lovers -= God created us to develop, unfold,  explore and take delight in his creation – making this world all that he intended.

I know that Len felt this calling strongly.  He longed to live the moment, to experience the unusual, to push the limits. He loved extravagance and longed to “suck the marrow” from the bones of his existence.

There is a lot to learn from the way Len approached life. I am better for having learned from him.  He was generous and kind.  His love for adventure was contagious and often very funny.

Shortly after 9/11, Arlene and I visited Len and Marc in Bremerton, Washington where they were living on the naval base. When we arrived, Len had been playing with Noah. Len was wearing a superman t-shirt and a child’s sized cape.  After some small talk, Len offered to take my on a quick tour of the base.  l  We got in the car and within minutes we found ourselves having to ignore some “restricted access” signs to see the really interesting stuff.  At this point, the military police vehicles swooped in.  Blocking any exit.  Confidently, as was the norm for Len, Len exited the car to approach the very serious looking MP’s.  I am unsure what was the most compelling reason the MPs let us go – whether it was Lens credentials or the superman shirt and cape – but judging by the amused look on their faces, the cape didn’t hurt the argument.

Golfing:  Lens golf game mirrored the way he approached life – and this made him a great partner.  Not just because shooting the lowest score seemed secondary. Golfing was all about having the most memorable drive, sinking the longest putt, making the hardest shot out of the rough.   Crushing it!!!  Being safely in the middle of the fairway was almost boring.   I think Len liked it just as much when his partners succeeded as when he did (well, except maybe for Andy, that just gets tiring) — And along the way – enjoy a cigar.

Some of favorite memories come from Nichols Lake – our annual cottage week at a small lake in Northern MI.

-Len did not fish much – but when he did it was never for blue gill.  Typically, he would have a huge hook, some weights, and a big hunk of meat – maybe sausage or beef – whatever leftover was available.  He said he was after a huge catfish, but I think that he was secretly hoping to be the first to catch a freshwater   Marlin or shark.

-One year Len had made a trip to a Native American Indian reservation in the UP and came back with a load of fireworks.  We didn’t dare set them off from the shore, so we tied a couple of rowboats together and rowed out a short distance. With Len and I in one boat and the fireworks in the other, our plan was to light the fireworks and then gently push the other boat away from us.  We did not anticipate that when the rope became taut, the recoil would draw the boats together again.  We saw most of those fireworks from an uncomfortably close viewpoint – but I can also still hear Len laughing through it all.

– Lens cooking at the cottage also became somewhat of an obsession.  Always over the top, always good.  I think this was a way that Len expressed his love for his family. Sharing this extravagance with them demonstrated what was in his heart.

There are other stories, all demonstrating Len’s zest for life.  And to bring us back to the beginning – they demonstrate how Len succeeded in living a life of significance, for he made a difference in all of our lives.  He taught us to love, laugh and live.  I am thankful for having known him and thankful for what he helped me to learn – for what he helped us all to learn.  While we are comforted to know the assurances and Len and all of us have in Christ, our hearts will miss him.

Dan DeKam
12/26/12

I was blessed with two brothers….

Ten months apart and very different, but both with keen minds and tender hearts….

I love this picture I have of Len cutting in on my dance with Nick…

Today this picture brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my face….

I have often thought about what I desired in my relationship with each of them, but this past week I was deeply impacted to hear Nick reflect on his relationship with Len…

His words are full of honesty, sorrow, love and admiration…

I am so proud to have had two wonderful brothers….one who now lives in my heart and the other who I will enjoy for all he adds to my life!

And so again today, I share with you Nick’s remembrance of Len. Pastor Van Dyke incorporated this into Len’s funeral service and they will be words cherished for many years to come.

Dear Len,

At the end of the summer of 2001 you asked me if I could go on a dependent’s cruise, taking the submarine from San Diego to Bremerton, WA.  As we approached the Straits of Juan de Fuca the sub surfaced and I was able to spend some quality time with my brother on the sail, under the stars, smoking cigars with a glowing wake behind us. I’m pretty sure I told you how cool that was. Once in a lifetime.

We always counted on you to be the one in front.  You did the toasts, spoke first, told stories with research, style and enthusiasm.  Quick to laugh, cry, criticize and praise. I never met anyone who was like you.  No one so willing to be completely different from everyone else with a core commitment to achieve something great.  Good work was not good enough if great work was in sight.

The thing I admired most was how you always wanted to act on principle – not task oriented, not accepting of others’ conclusions.  Just wanted to break everything down to its elements and wrestle with it until the principles were in tune with your heart and head.  I’m sure it made being your boss a pain at times; but that clarity of purpose made you a beacon for those under your command.

We grew up together, 10 months apart.  You enlisted in 1982, I enlisted in 1986.  You studied Electrical Engineering and I was Mechanical. Our paths crossed on golf courses around the country, family vacations, forced family fun, weddings.  Surely we would enjoy more time and reflection together when we retire, right?

I don’t know how to process your passing.  I always wanted to be like you but didn’t know how.  You frustrated me and your approval soothed me.  You led and inspired people and I felt if you had those qualities they must be within my grasp as well.  The faults you had, flaws we all share, did not diminish you in my eyes, rather they highlighted the struggle that you welcomed.  On principle.

I do not lose all hope in your passing.  Your light shines in Marcia, Olivia, Sonta, Noah and Jean Marc.  And I stand by them as I know you would have done for ours in other circumstances. Your impact has been incredible, even more evident in the response to your accident. It does not make life seem futile, but certainly uncertain, fleeting.

I will not speak at your funeral service.  I need one more day to listen, to adjust to your absence at events where you should do the toast, speak first, tell the story. I will remember you as a leader. My leader. Never comfortable in compromise.  Inspiring to those who follow.  Always wanting to give more than you had.  Huge heart.  Imperfect.  Relentless.  Stubborn.  Loved.  Missed.  Father.  Husband.  Son.

Brother.  Friend.

Love,

Nick

 

 

 

 

In yesterday’s blog I shared the words I read at Len’s funeral….

Today I would like to share what Suzi read at Len’s funeral…

I share it with you so you can catch more of a glimpse of the wonder of my brother, but I also share it because this blog is my archive of the journey to my heart and I never want to forget the words that were shared…

And so, I invite you to read the following and share in a bit of our grief while celebrating the life of my dear brother…

dear Len,

I always thought I would be alive to speak at your funeral since I am so much younger than you.  The problem is that I was expecting to be about 80 so you’re 46 years early.

I can’t say that we grew up together because we only spent four years living in the same house.  Of those years together, four of them I don’t remember.  So my memories of you are of visits back home from the Naval Academy or the various exotic places you lived.  It’s hard for me to explain the magic you were in my young life.  You swept in from all of your adventures and brought gifts and happiness and laughter to our house.  I remember a teddy bear the same size as my six-year-old body and rides on your motorcycle and being carried screaming upside down around the house and taking you for show and tell to my elementary school classes.  I remember many times where you asked me if there were any available girls in my third grade class that you could take on a date.  And then, of course, I remember the real date you took 8-year-old me on at your Naval Academy graduation ball.  You bought me a corsage and danced with me and made me feel like the luckiest girl of them all.  I felt special because of you and the courageous choices you made and the way you included all of us in those adventures.  I would not be who I am without that bolstering influence in my young life.

It is impossible for someone who wears their heart on their sleeve as you did to escape life unscathed.  I remember times of struggle where you were so ready to give yourself completely to someone, but the girls you chose never seemed able to bear the weight and strength of your love.  You know as well as anyone the pain of a broken heart.  But then, after so much heartache, along came Marcia.  And she was strong enough to be your true love.  I remember how much fun the two of you had from the first time you brought her home.  She was unlike anyone we knew.  She was the keeper of your heart.  I am so grateful for her and the commitment you had to each other.  You excelled at loving her.  And you have made such a lovely family.  Strong, beautiful, hilarious children.  They are your legacy and we cherish them.

As adults, we have had less time to be together.  Naturally your attention shifted to our own family and your own children.  I still have a soft spot for you, even as a grown up.  I am especially fond of how you are over the top on every last thing you do.  When we asked you to do the toast at our wedding, you purchased a 1200 page book of classic toasts in search of the perfect one.  When we went fishing on Lake Milacs you purchased every fishing accessory that they were selling (including magic fish love potion) and threw your heart and your money into catching a fish.  You also jumped whole-heartedly into your role as Uncle Len.  You won the life-long affection of our oldest, Peter, when you let him drive your boat on nighttime cruises as you blared Pavarotti to all the irritated fisherman on Nichols Lake.  You also won the life-long affection of our second son, Isaiah, by calling him Miguel.  In those moments, he believed in his heart that he was the star of the Detroit Tigers.  I am forever grateful for the attention you paid to your young nephews.

I don’t know if I have the words to tell you how  much you will be missed.  We will all grieve the loss of you in pieces in the coming weeks, months, and years.  As we read our Christmas poems or attempt a family vacation, we will never be the same without you.  We are not as interesting or exciting and we certainly will not eat as well.  I promise you that we will remember you well, laugh often, and continue to care deeply and actively for your wife and children.  They will never be left alone.

After your exhaustive search for a toast for our wedding, you decided that the best one out there is the Irish Blessing.  So, today I bless you with the same words:

May the road rise up to meet you

May the wind be always at your back

May the sun shine warm upon your face

and the rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

may God hold you in the palm of his hand.

I will love you forever.

Suzi