As you know this site was created to keep you posted on dad's progress during his battle with cancer. We are rejoicing because we know that our dad is completely healed and with the greatest physician. Although we will miss him so very much, it is comforting to know that he will not have to endure any more medical tests, treatments, pain, and yucky side effects that came with so many of the medications he took. 

We want to extend our gratitude to all of you that supported, prayed, and cheered him on during the tough days and celebrated on the good days. We so appreciate your many calls, texts, meals, special treats, and prayers during these past few years. Our family was once again overwhelmed with so many acts of kindness and have truly treasured your special words, remarks, stories, and prayers for comfort and peace this past week. As Patrick, Susan, and I return to our normal routines-our hearts break as we know that mom is having to navigate new waters. She certainly lived out her vows that were made 57 years ago and was the most patient and devoted caretaker and nurse. I know she will welcome your calls, visits, outreach, and prayers for strength during these tough days, weeks, and months to come. 

This is the link to the edited version of the service: https://youtu.be/QLChVuuHaOA

 

Several of you had asked for the piece that was read at his service on Saturday-so it is below. 

Murray Boyce White, Jr

May 12, 1941 – February 16, 2021

The roots run deep….

As we sat and talked about our dad and his life-the word roots kept coming to the surface.

Our dad was a man rooted in deep faith.

Going to church, worshipping, studying His word, teaching, and most importantly serving were all so important to him. Presbyterian beliefs ran deep in his genes. He often referred to Calvin and Luther in his many Sunday school lessons and he certainly did things decent and in order. Sunday mornings meant blueberry muffins and mom folding his shirt collar down neatly over his tie. Often, we would wait outside of his Sunday school class waiting on him to finish his lesson that seemed to go on forever. Those of you that knew him, know he liked to talk! He would often be taking up offering, serving communion, or greeting at the front door. There’s no telling how many committees he served on and how many meetings he attended between Unity and the Presbytery-he was a good and faithful servant. He loved his church-and was proud to be a member for over 79 years. He lived his life by his faith and was such an example of discipleship. His influence on our Christian life certainly has helped us through so many trials and instilled a steadfast faith that will live on through our own families.

The roots run deep…

Dad was quick to inform people that his Scottish roots run deep. He had traced his family tree back to the Lamont Clan in the middle of the last millennium. How appropriate that a “clan” is a group of people who band together by surnames and land.  Our dad loved his people, and he loved his family’s land. We remember huge family reunions in church reception halls, walking through cemeteries, looking at headstones, and hearing stories about people that we had no clue who they were. He was a storyteller, and he was always proud to share stories of his childhood. His stories usually taught a lesson and always left you thinking. His southern drawl would literally have you hooked and waiting for more. Our dad loved history. Tracing his family tree, connecting with relatives, and studying genealogy were pastimes he enjoyed and enjoyed sharing with others.

The roots run deep…

Our daddy loved his family. Mom was his high-school sweetheart that turned into a wonderful marriage of more than 57 years. They have been a great team! Their intertwining roots have supported the family tree against any troublesome winds that have blown our way.  Dad was always busy as we were growing up. Between the Springs Company, the National Guard, the County Council, and civic groups too numerous to count, he always made time for his children. He loved big family meals and gatherings; the more, the merrier. He wanted his family together, wanted us to support one another, and wanted us to appreciate our deep, rich heritage of strong family roots. As we married, the family expanded, and the roots ran deeper, his heart swelled with pride. His grandchildren loved their papa. He valued them for their uniqueness and individuality. He made all of them feel special and he always told them how very proud he was of them. The other day we asked each of our kids to give one word that they would use to describe Papa. The words they gave brought tears to our eyes: generous, diligent, wise, proud, brave, honest, caring, amiable, inclusive, chatty, compassionate, and darlin

The roots run deep….

Dad loved God’s creation and found so much joy in nature. He was raised on a dairy farm. His mornings started early and ended late. When you have cows that need to be milked twice a day, you quickly develop a strong work ethic. From literally tilling the soil for large gardens and raising homegrown vegetables, he had an appreciation for the Earth. On most pretty Saturdays, he could be found riding on his John Deere tractor or helping mom in their beautiful yard. As the small town that he was born in began expanding and developing, he felt the calling to preserve and conserve some of its most beautiful spaces. He loved taking walks through the woods, watching the birds that came to the feeders and spying the deer that would frequently visit. He went green before green was “the thing” and set an example for all to follow. He loved North Litchfield, taking walks along the shore, reading books on the beach, and getting good naps as he listened to the waves crash. The large oak trees in his backyard remind us of the strong man he was. His branches spread far and wide.

The roots run deep….

Our dad was like a strong oak tree. He was solid and sturdy. His roots weaved everywhere and provided the support that kept the tree strong during storms, strong winds, and heavy rains. His branches stretched out far and in many directions. He was full of life and just like the leaves that unfurl in the spring-he was so brilliant and polished. He provided cover for those in need, as well as stood tall so others could lean on him. Just like the oak sheds its leaves in the fall, he was not afraid to let tears fall and show his true emotions. Just as the acorns fall and little saplings appear-our dad scattered goodness and encouragement to all that knew him.

Our hero, the tallest oak in our forest, is now gone, but we have a deep sense of peace, because the roots run deep in our family.

Ten thousand times ten thousand
In sparkling raiment bright,
The armies of the ransomed saints
Throng up the steep of light:
Tis finished, all is finished,
Their fight with death and sin;
Fling open wide the golden gates,
And let the victors in.