Jack Rhoades was the first born of seven children to Petter and Ila Rhodes on December first 1925 in Fuquay Springs, North Carolina. Today marks a year since we lost this very wonderful man who lived his life by example to all of those around him. He showed us his strength and his courage from as far back as I remember. He was a very selfless man that would do anything to help from stopping for every stranded motorist along the road to having a garden that generated more food than his family could ever eat just so he could give the majority of it away to other folks that may need it. He constantly told me that he would always have a helping hand for those that were willing to help themselves. It took me a long time to understand what he really meant by that.
He was happily married to my grandmother for sixty one years. The father of seven kids, the grandfather of twelve, the great-grandfather of fifteen, and was well loved by very many others. He was a quiet, easy going man, but not one that should ever be underestimated. A very stubborn person by nature as all of us Rhoades' are and could not be budged when he set his mind to something. No one could ever call this man lazy or a procrastinator as he was always doing something. He had moved to Odessa in his early seventies and would be out mowing the yard, trimming the hedges, and just about anything else that needed to be done. This isn't an expected behavior of a man of his age, but for him he never got "old" as he was always just six going on four (ie 64) He was a really compassionate person whose moral ethics could not be wavered. A prime example of what you wish for your son to be like when he is a man. I know that is what I hope for with my boys.
When I was small I would go with my grandpa to fetch water from town to fill the cistern, help him in the garden, work with him in one of the shops, go with him to fish in the pond, hang out with the horse folks that rented barn space (they were more family than anything else), sat with him as he tinkered or whittled or just wandering around the fields. We could talk about anything or not talk at all. I would wait patiently most of the time to see what appealed to him more. It suited well that he called me Brendan as he had trouble with the letter "s" and there was no denying that I was a tomboy by nature. It was obvious how much I looked up to him, then as much as now.
His funeral was held on July 29th 2010. All of his children were in attendance among other family and friends. Among the missing were his three brothers and his sister along with nieces and nephews from North Carolina who couldn't make it in time for the funeral, but whose thoughts were with him. During the funeral I introduced people to each other as if I was a tour guide, trying to acknowledge each person as we went through the room. Because I had stayed so close to my grandpa, grandma and aunt I knew practically everyone there. The guys who use to keep their horses on the farm, the family from out of state that hasn't seen most of us in twenty years, the family friends who don't really know most of his kids or other family, the lady who went on vacations with my aunt, the magnificent singer and pianist couple that my grandfather had wanted to perform during his services.
I had never been a pal-bearer before, but I requested to be one for him. He was laid to rest with full military honors including the twenty one gun salute (So very glad my sister had thought to warn my children as it didn't occur to me until the officer called the orders) As the services came to a close I said goodbye to some of the friends as I knew I wouldn't see them again for years, as well as some family that would not be attending the family dinner after the services. As I was saying my goodbyes one person told me that out of everyone there that I should be at peace with my grandfathers passing (It would take me many months to understand that this meant that I should not have regrets as many others would because of how much time I had spent coming to visit or help over the past years)
After the services I drove my kids and my sister from the funeral to the family dinner at the big church on the hill taking the long way as to pass the old family farm that is now covered with more than forty new oversized houses but still has the tree that was in front of the old farm house. I found a place for my boys and myself to sit as Baby Girl had found a place to sit with others, I opted for the very empty end of a long string of tables as everyone had seemed to gather at the first string of tables until it was full and started loading up the second string from the other end. I knew everyone in attendance but I was worried about getting pulled into a group conversation when I wasn't yet ready to talk. I made the youngest two plates of food along with one for me. I went back and forth through the crowds refilling the little ones plates with small amounts of food at a time, as to not waste the food that the church had generously donated as well as prepared and served, also keeping me busy as a reason to be less social until I was ready. Occasionally someone would stop me as I went through the crowd to ask a question or to compliment me on how well behaved my children were or to thank me for helping out with my grandfather since he had broken his hip in February that year. The churches preacher came over and sat with us for a few moments to offer his condolences.
I went to a gathering afterwards at an uncles house in Kansas City. Among us were five of my grandfathers seven kids along with four of the eight grandkids and one of their spouses, and two of the great-grand kids. We gathered around reminiscing of years long past. Some had brought photo albums and one had brought a detailed account of his fathers time in the service as he had joined the army in June of 1944. He had been in Company "C" 10th Armored Infantry Battalion of the fourth Armored Division serving in WWII at the Ardennes, Rhineland, Central Europe, including the Battle of the bulge. He received an Honorable Discharge in May 1946 but he would never really get past the experiences that he lived through during his time served. Something some of his boys never seemed to understand, but I lived through some of his memories with him during my stays in the hospital with him. Each of which came with deviation from trying to convince me to help him escape to asking me for my hand in marriage as he had been suffering from dementia. He still had his moments of clarity as he would mess with the hospital staff. My favorite one being when a doctor had asked him his name, on the second attempt he had responded "Jack" but the doctor had persisted wanting him to give his full name, in which he responded "Ass" (I wasn't present for this exquisite example of ornery, but I could see him say it as if I was right there in the room) He liked being difficult sometimes as some hospital staff doesn't treat you as good as they should just because your mind wanders.
I try to live my life in the same manner as he did. Take care of your family, trust in god, help others if they need a hand regardless of how you feel of them, don't except any payment for good deeds as this makes it a service, don't succumb to the will of others as you know what is wrong and right, and my favorite; you can't walk backwards and expect to move forwards cause that is just craziness that gets you where you don't want to be. As with everyone though, I learned that living life this way is not easy. I sometimes can stray just as everyone does, but I believe as long as I am trying then I will have shown my children some of what he has shown me. I can live with that.
