Dean Pratt's Memorial

Submitted By: Theresa Dyanick

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Candles Lit: 1738

Dean Pratt's Legacy

The years of sorrow have gone by, the years of tears & asking WHY? A friend & father, they were the same, when God stood up & called his name. God looked around His Garden, and He saw an empty place. Then God looked down from Heaven, and saw Deans tired face. God saw the road was getting rough, and the hills were harder to climb. God put His arms around Dean, closed his eyes and whispered Peace Be Thine. It broke our hearts to lose Dean, but he didnt go alone. For part of us went with him, the day God called him Home.

I, like so many others who knew Dean, had taken for granted that he would be here today, tomorrow, and for years after that. It seemed like he would be here forever because he appeared indestructible, an old farm boy as he once put it. He was a fountain of knowledge, of ideas, of brainstorms & of outrageous humor. Dean was a man of courage, one who was not afraid to stand & hold his ground for what he believed was right & just, but he was also a man of unending kindness, as he often showed his gentle and tender side, a side he was not ashamed to let others see.

Dean was called Home by his Heavenly Father on March 21, 2007. How apropos to have that happen on the first day of spring. To die on a day known for rebirth & renewed vigor, on a day meant for new hopes & dreams, on a day that whispers promises of warm summer breezes & bountiful harvests seemed almost cruel. Cruel because winters icy fingers were losing grip on a cold, dead world, and far beneath the winter snows lies a promise of new life: a simple seed. That seed, which dropped onto this cold earth so long ago is lying undisturbed, waiting. Waiting for the day when the sun shall rise again, warming the soil & bringing the world back to life. Then, and only then, will the seed take root & break free from its icy tomb to grow and thrive in the light.

And thats exactly what happened on that first day of spring in 2007. Dean, who is that simple seed dropped onto this cold earth so long ago is lying undisturbed, waiting. Waiting for the day when The Son shall rise again, warming the soil and bringing the world back to life. Then, & only then, will he take root and break free of his icy tomb to grow & thrive in the Light of God.

So here lies the lesson & the legacy of Dean Pratt. A simple man who loved the simplicity of a life as an old farm boy. He is now living the Word as best he can, in the only way he knows how. This is one of the many lessons I have learned from Dean, a man to whom I fondly called Pa Pratt, and he graciously humored me with that privilege. On that cool spring day his wife lost her husband, his children lost their father & I lost my dear friend. Dean was like a father to me, one of the many strays that had come into his life. It was, and is my honor to say that I have been truly blessed to have known Dean Pratt, & I have come to know the family he sadly had to leave behind.