The following is a tribute I wrote for my father, who passed from this life October 20, 2011. My friend and brother in Christ, Dennis Craig, read it for me at a memorial service we had for dad on October 24, 2011. Dad’s name was Larry Cox. He was not well known in the brotherhood, but he was well loved by the brethren who knew him. He was not a preacher, just a kind and godly man. And a wonderful example for me and his family, friends and brethren. Men like this deserve honor as much as others who are better known. I pray you are encouraged and edified by learning a bit more about my dad.
The day before my dad died he and I were sitting in his hospital room talking. He mentioned to me that he had for a long while toyed with the idea of writing a short biography of his life that he thought might have meaning for his family. "When you have lived as long as I have," he said, "you gain a couple of insights you can share. Maybe not many, but a few."
This desire was not a surprise to me, because I had found a short outline he had handwritten some time before. I was going through his papers while he was in the ICU, near death, a year ago. I kept it with me for the past year. It is a single page, off of a 5" X 8" pad. I would like to spend a short time "fleshing out" that outline to give you a better idea of the type of man dad was. All of you know him as a kind man and a faithful Christian. There are reasons he lived his life as he did.
Dad was raised by a Christian mother. His mom, Helen, and dad, Walter, were both members at West Side, and are known by some of the brethren here today. Grandpa did not obey the gospel until late in life, and his conversion is one of the events that dad counted most precious. He considered his mother and his grandmother Pearl Robinson to be the most important early Christian influences in his life. Grandma Robinson was a member of the Polytechnic church of Christ here in Fort Worth when dad was a child. In fact, dad was baptized by a Fort Worth preacher whose name will be familiar to many, Johnny Ramsey.
As a young adult, Dad lost his way for a while. He and mom met and married, and from about age 18-30 he describes his life as 12 years of non-service. Of course, he meant that he was out of service to his Lord. It is no surprise that he would self-define his life in spiritual terms. During that period he was involved in worldly activities. I remember occasional poker nights when his buddies would come to our house for beer, smokes and cards. Dad was always a very skilled athlete, and time was spent in bowling alleys and playing pool. Some men would be proud of their prowess in these matters. I relate these things not because dad was proud of his time out of duty, but to illustrate a point he wanted to make.
The best way I know to do that is to relate to you a conversation I had with one of his fellow workers. About 10 years after dad (as he put it) got back into "the swing of things" in his spiritual life, I spent a summer working for the same company he had spent his whole adult life working for, Amoco Production Company. One week my duty as an engineer in training was to ride along with a pumper checking wells, and learning that aspect of oilfield work. While riding from well to well, we had plenty of time to talk. I don’t remember the man’s name, but he had known my father for many years.
He told me that he remembered well a day "about 10 years ago", when my dad made an abrupt change. He said that he had never seen anything like it. He knew dad to be "one of the boys." He knew of his gambling and knew of his "oilfield language" (which, by the way, he never used at home). In short, he was no different than anybody else, and then the next day, he was a man who lived righteously for his Lord. This pumper had never seen anything like it before, but he said he respected my father immensely for his conviction.
What had happened is that my dad had decided (as he put it) to get back into "the swing of things." He changed his life, and the life of his family. Grant was about 13, I was 9, and Fawn was 5 years old. We had been invited by Bob and Sandra Gage to visit the services of a small congregation out west of Odessa, the Westridge church. Mom and dad decided to rededicate their lives to the Lord, and we spent the rest of our childhood being raised by godly parents. Dad was always a good father and husband, but the decision he and mom made that day made a tremendous difference in his and our lives.
His friend Rick told me that he asked dad once how he had come to raise a preacher. Dad was very uncomfortable speaking in public, and confessed he had no idea. But I know. He raised a preacher because one day when I was at the tender age of 9 years old he decided to serve the Lord.
Others that dad listed as influences in his life were his father-in-law Jesse James, my mom’s grandfather Isaac James, and his own dad Walter. We all rejoiced when Grandpa, after retirement and his first stroke, was baptized into Christ.
In dad’s outline, he mentions "Our kids" meaning Grant, myself and Fawn. He was proud of each of us. Proud of what we had made of ourselves. Proud of the job we have done in raising our kids. He loved us dearly. Family was the second most important thing in his life, after his faith. He coached Grant’s little league baseball team, and was at every game that Fawn and I played in junior high and high school. He was proud of the fact that his daughter won the city championship as a freshman in the 100 yard dash, and three years later was voted homecoming queen. His office was decorated with pictures of our athletic endeavors and the trophies we had amassed in sports through our childhood. He loved to tell of the time that an opposing coach intentionally walked the bases loaded in the hopes of striking out Grant, and Grant responded with a grand slam home run.
Dad was also proud of all his grandkids and great-grandkids, and had high hopes for their future. He prayed for their success, and more importantly for their souls. In this day and time some people misunderstand these desires. They think it inappropriate and somewhat presumptive for a man to expect his children and grandchildren to adopt the same values he himself held. That is just not so. Over forty years ago dad stopped living his life on his own terms. He decided to submit to God’s terms. He fully understood the wise man’s words from the book of Proverbs, "There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death" (14:12). He figured it out that it is not about what "I think," but about what God wants. He humbled himself before God. He prayed that each of his kids and grandkids would do the same thing. He wished for them future success, but more importantly, eternal life.
Dad was an athlete. Sports were always very important to our family. Our family has college athletes, all-district performers, baseball and softball players, basketball players, cross-country runners, decathletes, polevaulters, powerlifters, quarterbacks and defensive linemen. None of us could stay on the racquetball court with PawPaw. No one could hang with him in Ping Pong, or match his bowling average. No one could beat him at pool. In racquetball he was ranked first nationally in his age group (65 and over), and delighted in testing himself against younger men, getting the best of them the majority of the time. At age 18 he won the intramural Ping Pong tournament at Odessa College. Around the age of 30 he played league volleyball for one of the best men’s teams in the Odessa area. At the age of 40, when he weighed about 180 pounds, he benched pressed 325 lbs. At age 50 he ran a half marathon. Just about every one of his grandchildren spent their youth wearing as sleepshirts the free T-shirts he got at races and tournaments. He started playing the sport of racquetball when it was in its infancy, with wooden racquets and no eye protection. He continued to play the game until the day before he went in to get the stem cell transplant that prolonged his life for a couple of years.
Hearing this, you might get the idea that he was obsessed with sports. You would be wrong. He thoroughly enjoyed exercising, and recognized the truth in Paul’s words in his first letter to Timothy, "For bodily exercise profits a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come" (4:8). Point four of his outline is "Racquetball and other sports (Keeping things in perspective)." Then in bold letters, Priorities.
His priorities were the last thing listed on the page, those things that gave him true pleasure. God first, family second, … and third? Everything else.
In Colossians 2 the apostle Paul wrote, "Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do. But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection." These attributes have been called the Apparel of Christ, and serve to define a righteous man. Mercy, kindness, humility, meekness and love.
Dad was a kind and compassionate man, and appreciated those qualities in others. He appreciated all of the nurses and doctors who cared for him during his illness, but especially those who took the time to visit with him, and to connect with him on a personal level. Any who took the time learned about his kids, grandkids and great-grandkids. But, he learned about their families and interests as well, because he was interested in their lives too. Many patients know that Dr. Vance is Harvard educated and a brilliant man, but I doubt very many know that he collects geeky T-shirts, and makes an annual trek to a gaming and comic book convention. But dad knew because he asked, listened and cared.
Dad was also a man of great honesty and integrity. You could count on one hand the number of days he called in sick during his 30 plus years working at Amoco. He knew that others often acted in self-serving ways, but he always determined to heed Paul’s admonition, "Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others" (Philippians 2:4).
We are saddened that the last few years of his life were dominated by his illness. Having beaten cancer once, it seems unfair that he would be afflicted by it a second time. However, the strength and equanimity he showed the last two years of his life have cemented his influence among his family, friends and brethren.
These words of tribute would not be complete if I did not mention his love for mom. She was the center of his life, the most beautiful woman in the world, and his most precious possession. They celebrated 50 years of marriage this summer, and through it all he loved her as Christ loved the church. He provided for her and his children, protected her, and was a kind and loving husband. She was everything to him, and he was and is to her as well.
The world has some peculiar ideas about what it means to be a man. My dad was a man. He loved God, and spent his life humbly serving Him. He loved his family, and showed that love in myriad ways every day. He loved his fellow man, and always was compassionate, understanding and kind. He was quiet, meek and humble. He was and is my greatest example – a man who deserved and received the respect and love of many.
We are going to miss him. But, he died with the hope of a child of God. He is at rest, and far better off than he was a week ago. His ravaged body has been put aside, and he awaits that immortal one that will replace it in the resurrection. Our family thanks all who have shared their condolences. Please know that we love you, and are comforted by your love and prayers.
