Loss and Gain

Wayland Myers McGuirt went home Tuesday to be with the Lord.

He was born in rural Waxhaw, North Carolina, in 1923. He was raised on a farm and lived in an old wooden house where he could see the chickens underneath through the floor boards. He worked hard all of his life and shared the stories with those of us who remember him.

He served in World War II as a member of the 345th/87th Infantry Division, a Golden Acorn. He marched through Europe and faced cold worse than the mornings on the farm when he awoke with snow on his blanket that had come through the roof during the night.

He married his wife, Sally, in December of 1943 and they gave life to four children; Brenda, Judy, Charles and Alan. He worked at a cotton mill during the day and on his small farm at night to feed his family. And he proudly worked to buy a modest brick home and his own piece of America.

He lived a simple, quiet life in the country as an outdoorsman. He hunted and fished, and he raised and trained hunting dogs that were the talk of the south. He sang in a gospel quartet and traveled to churches around North and South Carolina. And he grew some of the best tomatoes you ever tasted.

In May of 1983, when I married his youngest son, he stood beside my husband as his Best Man, and they always were best of friends. My husband called him Pop and my children called him Grampa. And he stayed with us long enough to make a lasting impression in how we live; in how my son holds his gun when he hunts, in how my daughter sings love when she speaks his name, and in who my husband simply is.

He waited patiently these last few years to go home and be with his God, his parents, his sister and his wife. He waited patiently these last few months when in the hospital. He waited very patiently these last few weeks when under Hospice care at his daughter's home. And now, his waiting is over, he is absent from the body and at home with the Lord.