On Leland Denton

I've already posted some of the material below on other sites, but I would feel remiss if I didn't post a tribute to my beloved grandpa here.
 
        How does one put a person into words?  I can see Grandpa in my memories presiding over family feasts, leading our church’s worship, eating with us at Godfathers' Pizza or at his house after the worship service, playing Chinese rummy in his kitchen, teasing my cousins who attended KU, and swapping military stories with other old veterans.  I remember him letting us play in the neighborhood pool and humoring us grandchildren during Thanksgiving when we wanted to ink his fingers as we played “detective.” (I believe he turned us down since he needed clean hands to cook.)  I remember him congratulating us after ballets and sports events, and telling us about his many trips abroad and visiting distant relatives.  I remember him patiently explaining how his electric jigsaw machine worked, pointing out new paintings he was working on, and gifting me adorable teddy bears nearly every Christmas and birthday until I decided I was too old and practical for them and gathered the courage to tell him I wanted to stop collecting.  He had wonderful cooking skills and loved to retell the story of a time from my early childhood when he'd shown me dozens of lunch options, and I, a picky eater, had looked up at him and said, "Can't you just cook me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" My tastes widened as I grew older, and I really enjoyed his food.
        Grandpa was always generous; he helped finance the family's two trips to Hawaii, he sponsored me and two of my cousins in The Order of the Eastern Star, and he would often slip me gas money when I came to visit the family in Topeka and would not accept refusal.  It was the same whenever he and Margie came to Hutchinson, where they would treat my husband and me—and other family and friends in the area—to supper (or lunch or breakfast, whichever suited all concerned) so we could spend some time together.  I can still picture the way he ate and the way he spoke and the way he looked so proud when speaking of our family.  He also had such an unconscious air of dignity and could tease with such a straight face that I sometimes didn’t know he was joking until he cracked a smile or another listener laughed.  His dignity seemed like sternness to me as a young child, but I knew he loved me, and as far back as I can remember, I never wanted to disappoint him.  My deep respect for him only grew as I aged, to the point where it's difficult to put in words.  As a result, I never felt that I knew the best way to tell him how much I loved him.  He seemed to have all he needed and wanted, so gifts were difficult, and my respect for him sometimes made me shy to converse with him as much as I now wish I had.
         If I've learned anything from Grandpa's passing, it's to always keep in close contact with the people we love--to spend time with them and talk with them to show that they're important to us.  We never know how much time we'll have with them here on earth.  Thank goodness that by the grace of God, if we've accepted Christ, we will meet again!