HOLMES, Donald E. age 71, of Greenville, passed away on Saturday, March 22, 2008 at his home. He was born October 26, 1936 in Marion, IN, the son of Kermit Delmar and Helen Elizabeth (Burket) Holmes. He worked for many years in the Dayton area as an engineer. He is preceded in death by his parents. Survivors include his wife of 46 years, Lynn Holmes; children, Larry (Carol) Holmes, Paula (Dan) Schwanitz, Kay Callahan, and Holly (Dick) Baker, all of Greenville; 9 grandchildren; brother, Jim Holmes of Ft. Wayne, IN; sister, Jo Ann Corell of Angola, IN; and sister-in-law, Jackie Behm of Lake Forest, CA; and 7 nieces and nephews. Don's family wishes to cherish his memory in private. If so desired, memorial contributions may be made to State of the Heart Home Health Hospice or Greenville Area Rescue Service. Arrangements in care of Newcomer Funeral Home & Crematory, North Chapel. To send a special message to the family, please visit www.NewcomerFamily.comAs one of the nine grandchildren, I feel there is much more that could have been said. While this clearly goes against "family wishes to cherish him memory in private" - I'm ok with that.
Grandpa Holmes always seemed to be sitting at the kitchen table, facing toward the living room, with a newspaper in front of him. He would share with whoever was nearby interesting factoids from the paper or his opinion on the news. He also would laugh out loud at the comics, and then read it out loud including explanations of the drawings, and then laugh again. He loved Calvin and Hobbes. (Perhaps that's where my love of comics (or the "funnies" as my dad calls them) came from.)
For whatever reason when I was younger, I thought that David Letterman was like my grandpa (clearly not the other way around as my grandpa was older!). I'm not 100% sure why I thought this -- perhaps because I never quite got either of their jokes -- but I knew they were funny!! Their humor was a little too educated for me when I was little. Perhaps it was my grandpa's laugh that probably didn't sound like Letterman - but I thought it did. Or maybe it was the way that after my grandpa laughed that he would rub both of his hands under his glasses out toward the side of his face -- almost like wiping tears of laughter away. (How that would make me think of Letterman - I still don't know. Or maybe it's because most of his jokes came from behind the kitchen table - just like Letterman's jokes were told behind his desk. (I know - I'm stretching here!)
It didn't mention his love for photography or poetry or writing. He always took rolls and rolls of pictures at Christmas. And he loved cleverly written pieces and books with lots of history. And the little wood & metal puzzles that were impossible to take apart.
And it didn't talk about his love of cars -- He had recently bought a beautiful, new red car. I can't even remember what it is called - but he could have told you about all the little nuances like how much horsepower and whatever you say about engines and power and speed and all the other specs of all of the cars he's owned - while I couldn't even tell you any of that about the one car I've owned.
And what about how much he loved all of us. Even after my cousin and I performed a specially composed song to persuade him to stop smoking one Christmas many years ago - he still gave us a huge hug. (We had an out-of-tune guitar that was missing strings and a tambourine which we found in their back room. We wrote the lyrics and the melody (if there was one!) ourselves. We were probably 8.) He did eventually quit - perhaps it was our song!!!
While most of these details and memories are not obituary material, it's what makes up life and is remembered in the end.
(Thanks for letting me grieve in "public." The thought of that obit being the last word just didn't seem right. Not that this little post does justice, it hopefully has a bit more heart.)
::Reader Discretion Advised::
