Eulogy and Obituary for Thelma Greiner

Eulogy for Thelma Greiner

May 20, 2020

by Pastor John Partridge

 

Thelma wanted to have an excerpt of a poem shared at her funeral that was often memorized by grade school children in her day. She memorized it, and although I will share an excerpt of it, Thelma likely memorized all of it.  It became, and remained, a favorite of Thelma’s for her entire life and she often would mention it or recite parts of it.  It was a favorite of Joe’s as well.  If you’d like to read it later, I’ll attach a copy of the entire poem when I post it online.

It is called Thanatopsis.  Thanatopsis which is a Greek word that means meditation on, or contemplation of, death.  It is an elegy that attempts to console humans given that everyone must die.

Thanatopsis

by William Cullen Bryant

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan, which moves

To the mysterious realm, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.


We should have been having a birthday celebration today.  With the Coronavirus lockdown in place, many of the cards for the card shower were, and are, already on the way.  It seems ridiculously simplistic to say that this isn’t what any of us wanted to be doing today.  But we are here for the same reason that those birthday cards are in the mail, because Thelma Greiner invested her life in the lives of others.  Friends, church members, and people whose lives Thelma touched, took the time to send cards and well-wishes because her happiness mattered to them.  She invested her life in schools, and her sorority, and in church, and in her community, she loved them, and they loved her back.  And, as her family, you know that better than anyone.

Although her family always came first, Thelma was passionate about, and dedicated to, many other things.  She was an involved and integral part of Christ Church from the time a neighbor offered to bring her, she belonged to the original “Friendship” class, met her husband there, and continued her membership, and her involvement, throughout her entire life.  She was just as dedicated to teaching her students, and to the profession of teaching, whether she was teaching the alphabet and modeling clay in kindergarten, discussing Greek and Roman gods, or conjugating Latin verbs.  Retirement didn’t change that either because teaching never left her.  It was who she was, and it was always a part of her life.  But that passion, dedication, and commitment, carried over into everything else that she did.  Whatever she committed to do, she did wholeheartedly, dove in and became completely involved, and was willing to assume whatever kind of responsibility and leadership was needed.  Thelma was the person who got along with everyone and who didn’t get upset when things didn’t go exactly according to plan.

Thelma Shultz was born in North Jackson, Ohio and was always connected to her family, and to her family heritage, because she made the effort to stay connected.  She took her family on holiday visits to the family farm in Greenville, Ohio, visited family in Kansas and Florida, and took her family to the World’s Fair.  She taught everyone the family history, of which she was so proud, and made sure that they knew that they had family that came to the American colonies with William Penn, and others that arrived through Ellis Island.

Part of Thelma’s attachment to Christ Church, was the handsome young man, Joe Greiner, whom she met, while attending church, and later married.  Thelma was two years older than Joe, and that bothered her so much that she started telling everyone that there was only a one-year age difference.  Obviously, the difference of one year wouldn’t have mattered to her family, but they didn’t find out the truth until she was celebrating a birthday in her nineties and confessed that she was actually a year older.  Thelma and Joe both attended, and graduated from, Mount Union and married in 1945 after Joe graduated from dental school and became an oral surgeon, and before the US Army sent him to Fort Smith, Arkansas to work at the POW camp there.  After the war was over, Joe would remain in the Army Reserves, get called to Fort Knox and active duty during the Belin crisis and, over the years, many of their family vacations would be planned around Joe’s training.  When Joe went to command school at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, then Thelma and the family would visit family nearby, and so on.

After Joe was suddenly taken from her in 1975 at the age 58, Thelma led the family alone, but she stayed just as busy, if not busier, than ever.  She continued to travel, but now, instead of Joe, she had Melinda by her side.  And later, her good friend and companion Wayne Jenkins travelled with her, especially to see Melinda and Art in Florida.  They enjoyed traveling and visiting together and were both were welcomed as extended members of the families of the Grainers and the Jenkins.

But no matter how many groups she was involved with, or how many projects that she had, or how much traveling she was doing, Thelma was always there for Mike and Julie.  She was always supportive, always helpful, and didn’t miss anything.  She saved articles about her family, and programs from their school and church activities, and maintained them in her scrapbooks.

Throughout her life, Thelma also had great affection for an “almost” family member, Charles Schulz.  Although his name and her maiden name were not quite spelled the same, she always felt as if they should have been related and virtually adopted him into her life as an honorary relative.  She loved the cast of characters from Schulz’s Peanuts comics, liked his sense of humor, and appreciated the wit and wisdom of his sayings so much that she often shared them with her family and others.  She often repeated saying like,

“Worrying won’t stop the bad stuff from happening; it just stops you from enjoying the good,”

“The smile on my face doesn’t mean my life is perfect.  It means I appreciate what I have and what I have been blessed with.  I choose to be happy,”

and, “Happiness is anyone and anything that’s loved by you.”

Thelma not only repeated these sayings, but her life embraced them.  She had Peanuts saying, and memorabilia to decorate her room for every season and every holiday.  And she especially liked to show off her tiny Schroeder piano that played his music when she touched the keys.

In the end, Thelma knew that her life wasn’t perfect, but she appreciated what she had for as long as she had it, and she appreciated the blessings that God gave to her.  Many of those blessings are here in this room today.  Although this day may not what we had hoped, the birthday cards that have been sent, and more that will likely come, as well as cards and letters of support and grief that you will receive, all stand in mute testimony to the love that Thelma shared for her church, her community, the people around her, and the love that they shared in return.  But I hope that you will never forget that more than any other activity, more than any other people, she loved you and she invested her life in you.  Thelma Greiner loved her Jesus and had confidence in both him and in her eternity.  She lived so that when the summons came to join the caravan to the mysterious realm, she went with an unfaltering trust…

“Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.”

 


Obituary for Thelma Greiner

Thelma GreinerThelma Greiner, age 103, of Alliance passed away Wednesday May 13, 2020, at Crandall Medical Center in Sebring.

She was born May 20, 1916, in North Jackson, Ohio to Albert J. and Emma V. (Spell) Shultz.

Thelma grew up in Alliance, graduating from Alliance High in 1935. She graduated in 1938 from Mount Union College and was a member of the Alpha Chi Omega Sorority. She spent her life as an educator in the Alliance, Columbus, and West Branch school districts.

She was a member of Christ United Methodist Church for 93 years, where she was active in the Crusaders Sunday School class and United Methodist Women. Thelma was active in the community as a charter member and past president of Stark County Dental Auxiliary, past president of Alliance Garden Club and the Belleflower Garden Club, Postscript, past president of Alpha Chi Omega Alumnae, member of City Panhellenic, and Alliance Country Club. She also served as a former board member of the Alliance Woman’s Club, and the YWCA.

Survivors include her son, James J. (Jill) Greiner of Alliance; daughter, Melinda (Art) Bradley of Warne, NC; grandchildren, Michael (Jamie) Greiner, and Julie Greiner.

Preceding her in death were her parents; and husband, Dr. Joseph C. Greiner who passed away in 1975; sisters, Kathryn Plajer, and Lilyan Johns; and friend Wayne Jenkins.

The family wishes to thank the Crandall Medical Center caregivers and staff for their kind attention and compassion.

A private service will be held on May 20, 2020, with a memorial service to be held at a later date. Interment will be held at Alliance City Cemetery.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to Christ United Methodist Church 470 E. Broadway Street Alliance, OH 44601.

Arrangements are entrusted to Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home 75 S. Union Ave., Alliance, OH 44601.

Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home, 75 S. Union Avenue Alliance, OH 44601.

https://www.ctcfuneralandcremation.com/obituary/Thelma-Greiner


 

Thanatopsis

By William Cullen Bryant

 

To him who in the love of Nature holds

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks

A various language; for his gayer hours

She has a voice of gladness, and a smile

And eloquence of beauty, and she glides

Into his darker musings, with a mild

And healing sympathy, that steals away

Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts

Of the last bitter hour come like a blight

Over thy spirit, and sad images

Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,

And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,

Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;—

Go forth, under the open sky, and list

To Nature’s teachings, while from all around—

Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—

Comes a still voice—

Yet a few days, and thee

The all-beholding sun shall see no more

In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,

Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,

Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist

Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim

Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,

And, lost each human trace, surrendering up

Thine individual being, shalt thou go

To mix for ever with the elements,

To be a brother to the insensible rock

And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain

Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak

Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.

Yet not to thine eternal resting-place

Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish

Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down

With patriarchs of the infant world—with kings,

The powerful of the earth—the wise, the good,

Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,

All in one mighty sepulchre.   The hills

Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,—the vales

Stretching in pensive quietness between;

The venerable woods—rivers that move

In majesty, and the complaining brooks

That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,

Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,—

Are but the solemn decorations all

Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,

The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,

Are shining on the sad abodes of death,

Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread

The globe are but a handful to the tribes

That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings

Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,

Or lose thyself in the continuous woods

Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,

Save his own dashings—yet the dead are there:

And millions in those solitudes, since first

The flight of years began, have laid them down

In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone.

So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw

In silence from the living, and no friend

Take note of thy departure? All that breathe

Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh

When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care

Plod on, and each one as before will chase

His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave

Their mirth and their employments, and shall come

And make their bed with thee. As the long train

Of ages glide away, the sons of men,

The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes

In the full strength of years, matron and maid,

The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man—

Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,

By those, who in their turn shall follow them.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan, which moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

 

This is Not Barbecue Day

military funeral(Reprinted and edited from Memorial Day 2012)

 

Today is not barbecue day.  It is not “just” a part of “just another” long weekend.  Today is not dedicated to automobile races and baseball games.  Today is not another excuse to go camping.  Today we have gathered here to remember.  We have not come to thank our veterans; we do that in November, but to remember those who have fallen, those who have given their lives, so that we might have freedom and liberty.  We gather to remember men and women for whom words like duty, honor, and country have meaning and because of whom, these words are themselves more meaningful.

During the War in Vietnam, Marine Private First Class Gary Martini, braving intense enemy fire, raced through an open field to drag a fallen comrade back to a friendly position.  Seeing a second fallen Marine just 20 meters from the enemy position, Martini once again risked his life to bring the man back to safety.  Upon reaching the fallen Marine, Martini was mortally wounded but continued to drag his comrade back to his platoon’s position, telling his men to remain under cover.  As he finally struggled to pull the man to safety, Private First Class Martini fell and succumbed to his wounds.

Sergeant First Class Paul Smith, while under enemy fire in Iraq, organized the evacuation of three soldiers who had been wounded in an attack on their vehicle.  Sergeant Smith manned the machine gun mounted on their vehicle, maintaining an exposed position as he engaged the enemy forces, allowing the safe withdrawal of wounded soldiers.  He was mortally wounded in the attack but not before killing as many as 50 enemy fighters in order to save his injured comrades.

During the Second World War, First Lieutenant Jack Mathis, flying a bomb run over Vegesack, Germany, was hit by enemy antiaircraft fire.  His right arm was shattered above the elbow, and he suffered a large wound on his side and abdomen.  Knowing that the success of the mission depended upon him, Lieutenant Mathis, mortally wounded, dragged himself to his sights and released his bombs on target before he died.

These few examples give us only a flavor of the sacrifices that our men and women in uniform have made for our freedom and for the freedom of others, often total strangers, in other nations.  So highly do we value this gift we call liberty, that we are willing to expend the blood of our own sons and daughters so that others might enjoy this gift also.

Brave men and women wearing the uniform of the United States have fought and bled and died in places like Bunker Hill, Yorktown, Concord, Lexington, Saratoga, Bazentin Ridge, Belleau Wood, Manila Bay, Guantanamo, Gettysburg, Antietam, Chancellorsville, Beruit, Okinawa, Pork Chop Hill, Hamburger Hill, the Chosin Reservoir, Pusan, Inchon, Bastogne, the Ardennes Forest, Pearl Harbor, Midway, Saipan, Medina Ridge, Al Busayyah, Wadi Al-Batin, Baghdad, Kandahar, Khaz Oruzgan, Musa Qala and thousands of other places most of us have never heard of as well as places so remote that the places don’t even have names.

On November 19, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln spoke at the dedication of the Soldiers National Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania four and one half months after the Union victory over the Confederate Army in the Battle of Gettysburg.  On this day or remembrance, it is good to remember the words that President Lincoln spoke.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.


Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.


But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

This day is very much like the hallowed ground of Gettysburg.  There is little that our feeble efforts or words can do to consecrate this day beyond what the blood of patriots has already done.  As we gather here today our task is to heed the words of Abraham Lincoln.  It is for us, the living, to dedicate ourselves to the unfinished work for which these brave men and women have given their lives.  We must be resolved that these patriots did not die in vain.  It is too painful for us to remember their sacrifice each day, but on this precious and hallowed day we should take the time to remember.  We should honor their sacrifice by appreciating the things that they have purchased with their blood.

Be sure to avail yourselves of the freedoms that their sacrifices have purchased on our behalf.  Vote.  Don’t just vote for the politician that promises to give us the most stuff, vote for the men and women who hold dear the ideals of freedom and liberty.  Honor the flag that they fought for, it is more than just a piece of cloth because it stands for the things those patriots fought and bled and died for.  Stand when the flag passes by, sing the national anthem, and teach your children to stand, teach them to take their hats off and to hold their hands over their hearts.  It seems that lately I have been at sporting events where I see far too many people who are oblivious to the ceremony of the national anthem, while others are standing, they sit, while others are standing at attention with their hats held over their hearts, these others are busy talking on their cell phones.  We honor the blood of heroes by being courteous and respectful.

Now, I fully realize that all of us who put on the uniform of the United States did so to defend your rights not to stand, not to sing and not to hold your hand over your heart.  That’s fine.  If you are one of those who takes issue with it, what I ask of you is that you do so respectfully and that while the rest of us are standing and singing, you share a moment of silence and remember those brave men and women who gave you that right.

Finally, I ask that you honor the sacrifices of our men and women in uniform with your prayers.  You don’t have to pray to the God I worship, feel free to pray to whatever deity you choose, but pray for all of the men and women who, even now, are away from their families, friends and homes.  Pray for those who today, instead of attending backyard barbecues and swim parties with their friends, are far out at sea, standing guard or even laying in a bunk half-way around the world or eating cold Meals Ready to Eat out of a foil envelope while they huddle in a foxhole in the sand waiting for the next mortar round to drop on their heads.  Pray for the families of those who are away from home.  Today wives and husbands of these brave soldiers are doing what they can to hold their families together and their children are growing up wondering when, or if, their father or mothers are ever coming home again.

Today is not barbecue day.  It is not just a part of just another long weekend.  Today is not dedicated to automobile races and baseball games.  Today is not another excuse to go camping.  Today we have gathered here to remember.  Today let us remember the sacrifices that made us what we are and have given us freedom and liberty.  Today has been set aside as a special day of remembrance.

Let us all pause to remember…

…and may we never forget.