Obituary of Abe Klassen

KLASSEN – ABE, It is with heavy hearts we announce the passing of Abe Klassen of Swift Current.  Abe passed away June 6th at the Gull Lake Special Care home, at the age of 92.  He predeceased by his wife Anne, sister and brother in-law Betty (Dave) Wall, brother Peter, sister Eva Woolsey.  He is survived by his children Jerry (Lorri) Klassen of Medicine Hat, Shirley (Rob) Stapleton of Saskatoon, Grandchildren Michael Stapleton, Amy Jo Stapleton, Tammy (Curtis) Dyson, Sheldon (Catherine) Klassen, Kelli (Katie) Klassen, Great Grandchildren Kasandra & Troy Norman, Emily, Jessica, Ashley and Nicholas Dyson.   He also leaves to mourn his sisters, Mary (Jake Wiebe), and Anne Rierson.  Abe was born in Wymark, April 20, 1926, and was the eldest of 6 children.   He married Anne (Enns) on Oct 9, 1954. Shortly after they married they moved into the house on Chaplin Street, and Abe stayed there until he moved into Prairie View Lodge.  He spent most of his working career with the CRP, a good fit, as he loved trains. He enjoyed baseball, hockey and football. He went to every Indian, (57’s) baseball game he could, and was a season ticket holder for the Bronco’s for many years.  He enjoyed his church very much, and rarely missed a service.

Men are requested to wear a tie.

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things in order, she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.  She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her. “There’s one more thing,” she said excitedly.  “What’s that?” came the Pastor’s reply.  “This is very important,” the young woman continued. “I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.”  The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.  “That surprises you, doesn’t it?” the young woman asked.  “Well, to be honest, I’m puzzled by the request,” said the Pastor.  The young woman explained. “My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming…like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!”
So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder “What’s with the fork?” Then I want you to tell them: “Keep your fork ..the best is yet to come.”  The Pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She knew that something better was coming.  At the funeral people were walking by the young woman’s casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, “What’s with the fork?” And over and over he smiled.  During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.
He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.