In loving memory of my grandpa, Robert Steven McLaughlin, aka (Stubby to me). He was more like one of my best friends – someone I loved to be around as much as I could. I loved his sarcastic and ornery nature and loved following his lead by dishing it all right back. I adored him and still do – and I miss him dearly! I wanted to honor him and his life by reading the following poem at his funeral.
In the early morning hours
On Tuesday, August 18, 2015
With family by his side,
Jesus came to carry him home-
And he took in a breath
For the very last time.
I wish you could know
This incredible man as we do-
The strength of his character, quick-wit
And famous slicked-back hairdo.
This man holds our hearts
As we once held his hand.
We love him so deeply-
He helped shape our whole Clan.
He was once tough as nails-
Unafraid to speak his mind-
More stubborn than most-
A hard-edged, but kind-hearted
Joke-telling, One-of-a-kind.
A feisty and ornery
Tough-loving spirit.
No one knew better than he did-
And he wouldn’t even hear it.
He was our family mechanic
Always there to help fix it.
But, abide by his rules
And give back ALL of his tools-
Or you might never, EVER
Hear the tail end of it.
He was an artist by right-
Though he’d never claim it as true.
He was an amazing wood carver,
Woodworker, metal sculptor, welder,
And hand-made, gift-giving
Family man, too.
He caught rattlesnakes in North Dakota
Brought them home in wire cages-
And kept a jar with just one-
In his garage through the ages.
He used to hand feed the squirrels
A single peanut on his lap.
Then, he started feeding the birds-
And his love for the squirrels-
Became electric after that.
He enjoyed camping with loved ones.
Four-wheeling and day hikes.
Sitting around the campfire
And retiring early each night.
At home it was just known-
That he had his own chair.
It was his and his only-
And best of luck to you-
If you happened to sit there.
His clothes always pressed,
His belly always fed.
And his hair meticulously styled
On top of his head-
Was NOT to be messed with-
At least, that’s what he said.
He loved his toast burnt,
Half and half on his cake,
Peanut butter with breakfast
And loads upon loads of butter
On his baked potatoes and steak.
He loved sipping whiskey and water
With the mixture just right-
Or blackberry Brandy
To unwind for the night.
Thank you from our hearts
For all you have given.
Your love keeps on loving
And our memories will go on living.
We already miss you so dearly,
But thank our Heavenly Father
For the gift of you.
Your fiery spirit lives on
In the heart of this Clan
And through all you’ve instilled
In each one of us, too.
-Tanielle Childers (Tillie) © August 18, 2015
dreamer | artist | painter | poet 