The memorial service for Gilbert Colegrove was yesterday at 9:30 a.m. For a man who thought he was not worth anything, he had two wonderful, kind & compassionate ministers officiating....The Rev. Dr. David Ruhe (left - from Plymouth Church) and The Rev. Dr. Herbert Hedstrom from Elgin, IL. During the service, Pastor Hedstrom gave us some insight into Gilbert's past which he had gleaned from Gilbert over the approximate 20 years he knew him. Nobody had a dry eye when he was... done. It was difficult listening to the pain, both physical and emotional, that Gilbert experienced in his lifetime. I placed Gilbert's ashes in his spot in the Memorial Garden and we all took a turn covering it with a spade of soil. My grandson, James, helped me with the first topping of soil. In attendance was Pastor Ruhe, Pastor Hedstrom, his wife, and another lady whose name I did not remember. This was the lady who was responsible for finding a home for Gil's dog, Pocket. Also in attendance, my daughter, Kristin and my two grandsons, James & Benjamin. The symbolism of Gil's permanent home in the Memorial Garden, representing his permanent home with our Lord & Creator did not escape anyone in attendance. We all agreed how everything played out over the past several months was truly a "God Thing." Burial of cremains in the Plymouth Congregational Church of Christ is intended for members only and there is a fee. Pastor Ruhe waived both of those requirements. Coincidentally, both Pastors Ruhe & Hedstrom are graduates of Yale Divinity School. After the service, they were headed in to the coffee shop to visit. I feel so blessed to have been a part of this. 

 

I received the phone call on Thursday, February 7.   Melissa of The Polk County Medical Examiner’s Office called me to let me know they could find no next of kin for Gil.  I was asked if I wanted to sign the papers to handle the cremation process.  “Yes,” was my response.  Once again I was informed that Gil’s body would be sent to the funeral home of my choice.  They would contact me so I could go in and sign all necessary paperwork.  Melissa patiently answered all of my questions.  Dealing with death every day has to callous a person just a bit I imagined, and yet Melissa spoke of Gil with as much respect as if he were a member of her own family.

I was hoping that somehow I could still have a Christian service for Gil.  I have had some friends mention they would like to attend the service, along with me and my daughters.  What had been nagging me, however, is what I would do with the cremation remains.  I chose the Westover Funeral Home, as I had grown up living across the street and down a ways from it.  It was the same funeral home that handled my Father’s funeral.  Within hours Cindy from Westover Funeral Home called me and we made arrangements to meet the next morning. 
My appointment was at 9:00 a.m. on Friday, February 8.  As I parked my vehicle, I could see the house across the street where I grew up.  I walked in to a full lobby as people were gathering for a funeral service.  A nice gentleman walked me back to a quiet and lovely room where Cindy waited for me.  She recognized me as a member of Plymouth Congregational Church.  If I have ever met anyone who was fully and exceptionally suited for their occupation, it would definitely be Cindy.  She had the appropriate look with her dark blue business suit…and she had more.  She had a soothing and calming voice, kind eyes and empathetic demeanor. She asked me questions about how I knew Gil and her caring seemed to go beyond what her job would dictate.  Cindy, too, was concerned about Pocket’s whereabouts and wanted to know if he had indeed been claimed.  I was informed that I would be able to view Gil’s body that morning if I so chose. “He has been at the ME’s office since January 22, so I do not know what shape the body would be in.”  I knew she was trying to prepare me for what I might see.  I declined, as I was afraid whatever I saw would only make me more sad.  I chose to remember Gil as I had last seen him with Pocket by his side.  The paperwork was next….which really was not very extensive.  They had little more than his name, birthdate, SS#, and most recent address. Next I was told of the process of the cremation and how the cremated remains would be turned over to me.  It was at this point that I asked about some sort of final service for Gil.  I explained that I was not familiar with the laws, rules or regulations which might dictate how cremation remains be handled.  Cindy placed her hand on my arm and told me how she was touched by my desire to have a service for Gil and she would provide for me a room at the funeral home….at no charge…..for a service for him.  I was in awe.  The funeral home was not making any money from me.  The amount they would be paid for the cremation was approximately 1/3 what their normal charge for a cremation would be.  I was not purchasing a large & fancy casket or anything else for that matter, yet she was taking her time with me and was so helpful. 
It was then that Cindy said to me, “Perhaps you could contact Dave and ask him if he would do a service for you at Plymouth Church.”  And then she spoke the words that made me the happiest… “you might be able to have Gil’s remains buried in the Memorial Garden there.”  Of course…..what a perfect idea!  The Dave that Cindy spoke of was David Ruhe, Head Minister at Plymouth Congregational Church where I have been a member for nearly 30 years.  Cindy went on to explain that she knows Dr. Ruhe to be a most kind and compassionate man. He has been senior minister at Plymouth for at least 20 years and he is a wonderful and extremely popular minister.  I had never considered asking him….but instead thought that I might contact one of the other ministers to see if they would consider having a service for Gil.  As in most congregations, everybody wants the senior minister to marry them, or baptize their children or be the one who comes visit them in the hospital.  Senior ministers have so many obligations and can’t possibly do it all.  And the Memorial Garden, I was pretty certain, was for Plymouth members only, but I felt so uplifted when Cindy gave me the idea that it almost seemed possible to me.  I gave her a hug and thanked her for the idea.  Then she suggested that perhaps somehow I could find a way to let others know about the service…….the others who had been called by the ME’s office looking for next of kin.  Once again, another wonderful idea.  She also volunteered to help me write an obituary for the Des Moines Register.   She told me she was aware of the container required for burial in the Memorial Garden and volunteered to have the remains placed in such a container.  Even Cindy felt as though this would happen. My spirits were soaring and I knew that the Holy Spirit was in that room. 
Cindy promised to call me when Gil’s remains were prepared and I would call her to let her know what arrangements I had made.  I hugged her once again and told her how much she had helped me and how I appreciated her compassion.  Feeling buoyed by my meeting, I went home to call Dr. Ruhe.  Unfortunately, he was not in, so I left a voicemail asking him to check his email and set about composing my correspondence to him.

Email sent…..and knowing what a busy time weekends are for ministers, I did not expect to hear from Dr. Ruhe at least until Monday.  The next day –Saturday --shortly after noon, I got a call from David apologizing for taking so long to get back to me.  Then he told me he was touched by my story, he would feel HONORED to perform a service for Gil and that it appeared to him to be most appropriate to have Gil’s final resting place to be within the arms of the Plymouth family.  OK, there were tears in my eyes and the Holy Spirit was at work again.  We discussed some of the details…he said he had some ideas for a service….I told him I would leave that part totally up to him….and we both agreed that Cindy is an incredible human being.  At the end of our conversation I thanked David profusely for helping me fulfill my wish for Gil.  This would be a celebration of Gil’s life. 

I wish I had a photo to share of the Memorial Garden.  The church itself is old and stately, as you can see from the photo.  As you look at the front of the church, just off to the left and around the corner, in the side yard, is the Memorial Garden.  It is beautiful and green with a small seating area for contemplation.  There are beautiful hydrangea bushes close by and the area is canopied by stately oak trees.  Gil will have a final home…a permanent home.  Cremated remains are placed in biodegradable containers for interment.  The intent is to have the container disintegrate such that the remains become a part of the beautiful soil.  Gil’s name will be on the Memorial Plaque.  This is the Memorial Garden Purpose, as listed on the Website of Plymouth Church:

The Plymouth Church Memorial Garden is intended to be a visible sign of the love of God. Its design suggests the cycle of life which begins and ends in God. In a setting which makes it an ongoing part of the life of Plymouth Church, the Memorial Garden serves as a place for the interment of the cremated remains of members of the Plymouth family. Space is provided for individual meditation and quiet contemplation. The area will also serve as a meeting place for small groups and classes and is adjacent to the east lawn, site of larger group picnics, and other gatherings. Affirming that death is a part of life, Plymouth establishes this area as a living reminder that “...whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.” (Romans 14:8b)

I am thankful for Melissa of the Polk County Medical Examiner’s Office, Cindy with Westover Funeral Home, and David Ruhe, Head Minister of Plymouth Congregational United Church of Christ.  I was amazed and in awe of their combined patience, kindness and compassion.  I know I have become jaded in life and cannot even make a request for a service call on an appliance without getting frustrated, and yet this whole process fell together as though the pieces were predetermined.  Of course they were and, indeed, the Holy Spirit was at work. 

Dr. Ruhe & I decided to wait until March for the service, hoping it will be easier to dig in the ground of the Memorial Garden.  I will give an update on the service.

 

 

A Tribute to and Memorial for Gilbert Colgrove.....

This is not my typical post concerning teddy bears, or decorating or holiday fun or antiques. It is really not a happy or joyful post, but instead somewhat sad. I feel driven to put into words my relationship with Gil so that at least to me, his life has meaning. I know that Gil most likely touched others just like me who felt the urge to help him out in their own way. The story is longer than my usual posts. My hope is that after reading this, you will start to see some of the 'invisible' people we all walk or drive by every day and that you will feel compelled to show them some kindness in any way you can. Here is my story:

On Wednesday, January 23, I received a rather strange and eerie phone call. My cell phone rang and a lady identified herself as working for the Polk County Medical Examiner. She explained that she received my number as somebody who may know a person by the name of Gilbert Colgrove. I thought for a minute and could not place the name, so I told her that it was not anybody I knew or was familiar with. She asked me again, “So you do not know Gilbert Colgrove?” and I said no. Her exact words back to me were “That’s interesting….he had your phone number, but thank you for your help.” At no point did she indicate that she was attempting to find next of kin for a deceased person, but I knew that was the purpose of the phone call. Many thoughts ran through my mind during and after that phone call. My very first reaction, after hearing the words ‘Polk County Medical Examiner’, was that my heart starting pounding and I feared that a family member had died. That pounding heart lasted long after the phone call ended. It was horrible and my heart breaks for anybody who has ever received such a phone call. The second feeling was that I was sad that it was not obvious who the next of kin or loved one was and the ME’s office had to resort to calling random phone numbers they may have found. Lastly, I became aware of all of the people in this world who are not necessarily family, friend, or loved one who have my phone number. People I may have done business with, either with teddy bears, antiques, Craigslist, contractors or delivery persons. Somebody had died….of that I was sure and I did not for one second think it was a hoax or prank of any sort.

The phone call was still weighing on me the next day when I drove to Kansas City with my daughter and grandson. I began to tell my story to Kristin and she indicated she had read my post on Facebook concerning the phone call. She got a very enlightened look on her face and turned to me as if the solution to this puzzle had just been whispered in her ear. Without hesitation she asked about a man I had befriended several years earlier. “Wasn’t his name Gil or something like that?” she asked me. I knew immediately she had it. 

Gil did not pronounce his name with a hard G as you would think a shortened form of Gilbert would be, but instead it sounded more like the sound you make when you say Zsa Zsa. He was a sweet soul who I first encountered standing at the parking lot entrance/exit to the neighborhood grocery store where I shopped. Gil was a small man, a bit bent over, bald and walked with a cane. He had only a few teeth left in his mouth and I assumed he was most likely not as old as his battered exterior would indicate. He stood there with his sign asking for donations or food and he was accompanied by a small white dog I later found out was named Pocket. I gave him some money that day, as I did every time I saw him. One evening as I pulled into the parking lot with my daughter, it was pouring down rain. We got out of the car and headed into the store. Standing underneath the overhang was a very wet Gil and his dog, Pocket. Gil had roughly fashioned a “raincoat” for Pocket out of what looked like an old shower curtain. I asked him how he was doing and he answered that he was waiting for the bus. Had he had a meal recently was my next question, as I wanted to buy him something to eat. He answered that he had not and would appreciate a meatloaf meal, so off we went to the deli and I bought him several meals to go. When we took it back outside to Gil, I asked him if he would like me to take him home. “That would be so nice of you….are you sure you don’t mind?” was his reply. My instincts told me that Gil was a peaceful man and would do us no harm. We helped him into my car and off we went to a small brick one story apartment building on the edge of our downtown area. I asked him his name and he told me Gil -- with the unique pronunciation. He told us he was not originally from Iowa and I cannot recall if he told us where he was from. He had lived with his Mother until she died and he had been a delivery person. He told me his apartment was subsidized, he was on several medications, and that he received a bit of help from some church. I didn’t ask too much about his personal situation. He told me about his dog, Pocket, and it was obvious that this dog was his world. The name Pocket came because when Gil first found this small white dog, he carried the tiny puppy around in his pocket. I helped him carry his food inside a very small & sparsely furnished apartment. Before I left, I gave him my cell phone number and told him to call me if he ever needed anything……he never did. I would give him some money whenever I saw him at the grocery store entrance……which was not often, and occasionally would stop at his apartment with groceries or cash for him and sit and visit for just a bit. Over time, I no longer saw him around and lost touch……until the phone call from the medical examiner’s office.

When Kristin & I arrived in Kansas City, I called back to the Medical Examiner’s office and spoke with the lady who answered the phone. I informed her of the phone call I received the day before and of the memory jog my daughter had given me. The kind lady confirmed that the person was the same as the name I had been given the day before….based on where he lived. He had died of natural causes in his apartment earlier in the week. She said she would have the lady I spoke with the day before call me back. When Sarah called back, I asked about Pocket. She said that Gil had a note taped to his wall, which appeared to have been there for a very long time, giving the name & phone number of a lady he wanted Pocket to go to in case anything should happen to him. The lady rescued dogs and had apparently visited Gil on occasion. Sarah said that Pocket had been taken to the local animal rescue league and the lady had been called. I requested that she please give me a call if she heard that the lady was not going to pick up Pocket, as I would take him. I also asked about Gil…..what would happen to him if no next of kin were to be found. Here is the process. They wait for 30 days and if nobody claims the body, it is cremated and kept in storage. I was told about every ten years these unclaimed ashes were buried in a common grave. The thought made me sick to my stomach. Nobody should have their life end that way. Now I have a strong faith in God and I know that after death, our body is merely an empty vessel, devoid of the soul. However, it felt so disrespectful. I asked her if I could have a Christian service for Gil after cremation. Sarah’s response was that they would keep my name and phone number and if no next of kin claimed the body, I could choose a funeral home to work with for the service and cremation of Gil’s body. The county would pay for his cremation since he had no funds. The ashes would then be turned over to me. I would be responsible for processing all of the paperwork.

So now I sit and wait the 30 days for a call. I want to have a service for Gil and I will invite people I know to the ceremony. Even if it is only me who attends, at least there will be somebody to pay respects to a life which God created for a purpose. Please say a prayer for the soul of Gilbert Colgrove and tell your loved ones today how much they mean to you. I wonder when the last time was that Gil heard the words, “I love you” from anybody. He was 66 when he died. I hope as I write this he is sitting at the feet of Jesus in Heaven. God Bless you, Gil.