The Garage

Spoken on the occasion of the celebration of life of Donald W. Smith by his grandson, Nathaniel W. Nutter, June 14, 2024.

The words of an old poem (that Papa would often recite) expressed how he lived his life. “We are not here to play, to dream, to drift; we have hard work to do and loads to lift.” I met Papa three weeks before his 63rd birthday, and for the next 30 years, we were friends. To be sure, we certainly weren’t peers. I respected Papa very much – and still do. However, we were pals. I spent more time with Papa growing up and during high school than I did with my actual friends (#homeschooled). We built things like a Peugeot-themed go-cart and rubber band gun. We hung out at fine-dining establishments like Friendly’s and McDonalds. And just two years ago, on May 14, 2022 Papa officiated Lilly and I’s wedding. I am forever grateful he was present that day and got to know Lilly.

Anyone who knows Papa knows he loved to be behind the wheel. Anytime I needed to go somewhere, Papa was there, He’d take me to all my Dr.’s appointments and go with me to pick up my friend Tyler in Easton. We’d chase 911 calls that came in on the Police Scanner, travel out to see Yannis at Foreign Motors West for Peugeot parts, and go see David at Foreign Motorcars for BMW parts. We spent lots of time in the car. In fact, we’d often just sit for an hour or two in the driveway without ever going in the house. We’d chat about philosophy, and theology, or practice reciting the Cremation of Sam McGee – A poem Papa learned from his father and passed down to me (when I had to memorize something for a speech class).

Cars were his thing and he taught me all about them – he taught me how to drive and sponsored me during my road test. He taught me how to jumpstart a car, replace a flat tire, and do an oil change. Amidst it all, he was extremely safety conscious. He’d often say that “driving is the most dangerous thing you’ll do on a typical day.” He’d never let me get under a car without a block or ride my bike without a helmet. He knew from experience that we live in a dangerous world. And he knew what it was like to lose someone close. His oldest son, my Uncle Scott died at 19 – before I was born.

While I have countless memories of Papa, it is his unwavering faith in the Lord Jesus Christ that I am most thankful for. Papa was instrumental in shaping my faith. He brought me to God’s word, and showed me, by example, what it means to be a Christian. That doesn’t mean Papa was perfect – far from it. Anyone who knew Papa well know the horrors mental health can have on a family. He struggled with pretty much everything in the DSM-5. His struggles affected others in a profound way. And he knew that. He knew the depth of his brokenness but also knew the splendor, majesty, and authority of his Savior. He knew that he’d stand before the Lord in judgment one day. And he knew that the verdict would be ‘not guilty’ –  not through any accomplishment of his own, but through faith in Jesus Christ alone. That is the most precious gift a man or woman can receive. And that is the good news, the gospel message that he spent his adult life preaching as a Minister.

I sure do miss our conversations about philosophy, theology, and eschatology. He had a sharp mind and was full of the Lords wisdom. The transition from visiting Papa to remembering Papa is hard. My phone is abnormally quiet. But I am comforted knowing his mind is no longer troubled, his worries are no longer present, and that when he breathed his final breath with Lilly and Miss Heather Shattuck, by his side, he was welcomed into the arms of his savior with the words “Well done, thy good and faithful servant.” There were a lot of familiar faces waiting for Papa in heaven. I, like Paul says in Philippians 3:14, “I press on towards the goal to win the prize which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus”. that I may once again, here Papa‘s voice singing the praises of the Almighty. I thank God I am Papa‘s grandson.