How to Describe Dean

Life is an interesting thing. Death is a strange thing. It was brought to my attention that four years ago today, my friend Dean Teter died. He has been enjoying his Lord for four years now. Not that four years means anything to him- he has eternity. But to me, and to the rest who are still here and loved him, years mean something.

Four years ago yesterday I got in the little green Subaru with my dad and drove up to Dean and Nancy's house to say a prayer and to say goodbye, as I realize now. Truthfully we didn't know how long Dean had left in his house on this earth with his Nancy, but we knew it wasn't long. Dean was always a picture of strength to me. That didn't change even as I saw him in his last hours and gave his forehead a goodbye kiss.

I was just talking to my mom about the significance of this day- the day we lost Dean four years ago- when something hit me. New people have come into my life in four years, some of them on a very close level. New people have come into the church in four years. These people do not know Dean. I can't describe how that makes me feel, other than to say that Dean was such a huge part of my life that it hurts to not be able to share memories of him with people I love. It is so much better for him to be with God, but he has left a void here that can't be filled. I look forward to sharing time with him again, when I have joined him where years have no meaning.

Even with the realization that we will someday join Dean, the feeling that he cannot be described is haunting. That's why death is so strange. Dean has left this life but he left many who love him here, so bits of him remain. Even as I begin to describe him, please know that I can never do his life justice.

Dean:

Prayers. Long, sincere, beautiful prayers filled with respect, awe, and wisdom. I sat through many prayer meetings with Dean. His deep, strong voice would carry through any room- praising, thanking, and making requests of His God. The steadfast prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much. Maybe that's why my parents would call Dean when they felt in need of prayer. Whether it was a personal request or a church issue, often times the first thing my parents would do during a difficult time was to give Dean a call so that he would pray with them. What a testimony to him- a true person of prayer, sought after by others for His sincerity when approaching God.

Laughs. Where Dean was, laughter was. "Dean-isms" were well known at Pleasant Valley. "The J.A. Pan Company". "Them Hanyaks." and the list goes on. His huge smile and loud chuckle would make anyone happy. Joking with the young people in the church seemed to be one of the things that brought him the most joy. Kids of all ages loved Dean. My family commented after his funeral that we couldn't believe how many kids had been there. He took time to appreciate young people and to encourage them through jokes and kind comments. He genuinely cared about their lives and many of us had our own special nick-names from Dean. My sister was "The Blue-eyed Brat." I think that my generation may, in some ways, be difficult for older people to connect with. We are often caught up in our own lives. Somehow Dean broke down that barrier and was loved by the youth around him. Even as Dean aged, he did what he could to encourage the young. He hosted events and targeted specific groups of kids to encourage- such as the Bible Bowl participants.

Strength. Dean was probably the strongest man I've ever known. He was a strong leader in the church. There are so many times I can think back on that would have turned out so differently without his leadership. Dean was never an Elder in the church, but I have to say that I saw him as one. He was the person to go to for loving guidance based on the truth. He cared to check up on people and to truly be involved in their lives. Dean was a man who was not afraid to make a stand based on what he knew was right. He was also a strong man physically, and I never stopped seeing him that way. In his last years, Dean walked hunched over with a cane. But he never lost his strong appearance. Just recently I saw a picture of him standing upright and it shocked me at how much can change in a few short years. But really nothing at all changed. Dean was strong, no matter what his body was telling him.

Work. Dean worked hard. I remember him crawling all over my kitchen floor only a few days before his knee surgery, because he wanted to get the floor laid while he could! He spent endless hours doing those thankless tasks throughout the church building and on the grounds. I could go on here, but it wouldn't end. Dean spent his life working hard.

The sting of death might fade with time, but somehow it doesn't with Dean. Thinking about him today has as much joy and hurt as it did four years ago. And so I sit here typing, looking at what I've written, and realizing that I've failed. Such a significant part of my childhood and teen years can't be described in an article or facebook note. I can say all the good things about him and all my memories of him, but his life was lived in such a fashion that can't be summed up. Experiencing his friendship and learning from observing him were gifts that I was somehow fortunate enough to receive.

I am thankful that I have memories. I am also thankful for my church and Dean's family, because they know what I mean! Pleasant Valley has experienced his leadership and his family has experienced his love. I am thankful for his wife Nancy, who is a vital part of our congregation and a great friend. And I'm thankful for the beautiful roses in the church yard, planted in Dean's memory, that will be blooming soon.