The following was written on the first father's day after grandpa passed away.

For Grandpa
By Gregg Stilwell
Doss Stilwell. His name evokes many memories for many people. Some will remember him for his twenty-five years of service as a member of the Stilwell Fire Department. Others remember him as their neighborhood grocer for twenty-three years. Many will think of his thirty years of service on the Stilwell School Board and the cafeteria named in his honor. But to me, he will always be remembered as my beloved Grandpa.

There were three grandchildren before I came along, two of which were Grandsons. He loved each of us equally, but our relationship would turn out to be different than that of he and his other grandchildren.

It changed when I was only ten months old, the day my dad walked out of my life, never to return. From that day forward my grandpa would love and care for me as if I were his own son, and I would look up to him like a father.

He didn't know it, but I studied every gesture he made, absorbed every word, and learned every lesson he taught.

He instilled in me at an early age the values and work ethic that made him a success. As the oldest of six children, he had to drop out of school and go to work to help feed and clothe the rest of his family. And work he did, the rest of his life, to make things better for all of us.

Despite his lack of a high school diploma, he worked three decades making the Stilwell School System one of the finest in the state. He taught me the value of an education, but he also taught me that all of the knowledge in the world was worthless unless you used common sense and your heart along with it.

He had little free time when I was growing up. Sunday afternoons were really the only chances he had to relax. He would often do so by watching Dallas Cowboy games on TV. He would get all settled down in his favorite chair, and invariably I would come in with a football in my hands, wanting to go outside and play catch. He would always oblige me and usually wound up missing his game, but he didn't mind. Family always came first to Grandpa.

He took me to church every week, leading me by example, showing me about the power of prayer, of faith, and what it meant to be a Christian. Each week he would go up front to sing, and he would always call out the page number of the hymn "Just Inside the Eastern Gate" because he knew it was my favorite. he would look back to where I was sitting and our eyes would meet. We would smile at each other and he would give me a wink.

I used to pray that Grandpa would live and stay on the school board long enough fot him to give me my diploma on graduation day. The Lord answered my prayers. It was the proudest moment of my life when my name was called and I walked across the stage to shake his hand. I was proud not because of what I had accomplished, but proud that he was there with me. That diploma was as much his as it was mine. Grandpa died the summer after graduation, and it turned out that I was the last person he ever handed a diploma to.

In the later years of his life he remained steadfast in his caring for his family. He worried about us and would stay up much of the night looking in on me now and then, making sure I was safe and sound. He didn't get much rest in those days. He knew I suppose that the time was coming when the Lord would tell him that his job here on earth was done, that he had earned his rest, and it was time to come home.

And that time did come.

I had kept my fathers last name all of my life, but when Grandpa died I had it changed to honor him. I wished that I would have had it changed while he was still living, but as I walked down the courthouse steps the day I had it legally changed, I knew that somehow he knew.

A few months ago I was speaking with a woman who told me I looked just like my Grandpa. I smiled and told her that if i could be just half the man Doss Stilwell was, I would be a great man. And I do strive to be just like my Grandpa, because I loved him very, very much.