Lessons Of Courage: Gene D Cottrell

Gene D Cottrell

Gene D Cottrell was born Nov-15 1925 and passed away July-8-2003. I can honestly say that was one of the toughest days of my young life. My grandfather was one of my best friends, and though he had a temper that seemed to stem from the fire of hell itself if you provoked it, he was one of the best grandfathers a girl could have asked for. He protected me, educated me about life, punished me when I needed it, and loved me beyond measure. When I was small and started developing my legendary "spunk" and "sass", my Grandmother made a comment that I was "full of vinegar." My grandfather, quick witted as lightning and never missing a Que, stated rather loudly that I was "sure full of something!" He was never one to sugar coat ANYTHING, much less his bold opinions on everything.

What I loved the very most about my Grandfather were his  stories. They were not meant to be funny, and if he caught you giggling there would be a whole other lecture about life, but any one in my family can confirm that he had a very UNIQUE perspective on his life and it WAS funny. He loved to  make people laugh and would talk to anyone who would listen. His philosophy on life and his words of wisdom were hilarious and a bit vulgar at times, but ever true if you could stop laughing long enough to ponder what he told you. My personal favorite was this gem, spoken to my very reserved father the day my mother brought him home for the first time. "Son, everyone in hell is dying for a glass of ice water." The great part is, that as my father tells this story, he recalls very distinctly how serious my grandfather was about what he was saying. Most of his little phrases about life lessons and things to ponder were very satirical in nature and perhaps that is why they stuck so well, even though I was young when he said them.

But the thing about my Grandfather that I both admired to the very depth of my soul, and yet could never understand was how he could be so strong when he hurt. I have always been the type to wear my heart on my sleeve, but my grandfather knew how to push on when things got tough. I was lucky enough to have quiet moments with my Grandfather in his garden. His garden was his sense of peace, his quiet place, and I learned more about him while pulling weeds and harvesting tomatoes then I ever would have learned any where else. For every sad moment in my life,for every trouble and tear I shared with him, my grandfather had a way to make things look better or at least funnier.  I think my Grandfather knew there was something a little off about me, though I know he was not quite sure what it was. But in that garden, he protected me and guided me past a childhood I never would have made it thorough without him. It was not until after he passed away that my anger and dark personality were diagnosed as bipolar. Somehow, he knew I needed him though. And no matter how confusing life was for me, no matter how angrey I was at the world, he was alway an example of courage to me.

When my Grandfather was a child, no older than 6 or 7 years old, his father turned to him and stated "I never wanted you. You were an accident."Those his mother wrapped him tight in her arms, and assured him that SHE was grateful for him, that statement really never left my grandfather. Even at 6, my grandfather had a choice at that moment. He could remain depressed and allow what his father said to ruin him, or he could live on despite that life altering statement. My grandfather not only lived a great life, but was loved by so many people that when he passed away Grandmother's phone did not stop ringing for weeks.

I have to say, a comment like that would have destroyed me in every way. I would not have had the strength at such a young age to stand up and press forward the way he did. And through out his life, this courage only got stronger.

When I was a teenage, he was diagnosed with Colon cancer. He was ornery as hell, and slept more than I had ever seen him sleep, but he got himself into remission faster than we could have ever hoped. No cancer was going to keep him from getting up to watch Perry Mason and Clint Eastwood. About a year later, you would have never know the man had ever had cancer in the first place. The man never let fear stop him from anything, and though I never really told him how grateful I was to look up to him, I know that his endurance and determination to face the challenges that arose in his life changed the way I responded to challenges. When I was young, I would hide when I was scared. Grandpa taught me to fight my challenges with all the spunk, sass and vinegar I had to throw at them. I had to learn the difference between fighting with courage and just fighting to fight, but because of Grandpa I gained the courage not to hide when I was scared. I can never thank him enough for the example he was to me, nor the love and safety that I felt when I was with him in that garden. So a decade after he left me here to use his lessons wisely, I would like to say now what I could not say back then. Thank You, Geneo; for protecting me, guiding me, loving me no matter what I was full of, and being such an example of courage in my life. I love you Grandpa.

Love Always,

Jetta Marie