Charles Llewellyn III, DDSDental Care in Virginia Beach

Instagram

Pops

Today, October 14, 2019, my dad would have been 88 years old. I never forget to think of him on his birthday, but this year my family has taken a special interest in his life which has me pondering things I haven’t thought of in years. He was taken from us in 1995 by that despicable illness known as Alzheimers Disease at the age of 63. I’ll be 63 (Lord willing) next year, so this thing is starting to get real. I’m writing this post after a long absence from my blogging more for myself than anyone else, and please know that the Christian theme will be heavy. It’s my families heritage so I trust in this age of “keep your faith to yourself” that nobody is offended. That’s the last thing any real Christian should want to do.
It starts with my grandfather, Charles Silas Lewellyn, Sr.,(the missing L in his name is a long story). He was a hard drinking, card playing glass factory worker in West Virginia. Legend has it that he was not a sweet and mellow drunk, either. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come home after a night of carousing and break things just to hear them crash. I can’t imagine who I would be if God hadn’t reached him when He did. Almost overnight, Doggie Lewellyn (you read that right), gave his life to Jesus and changed our family for generations. Keep in mind, as is usually the case, that there was a Godly woman praying for him who persevered through those tough times without faltering in her determination to raise children of God, she had 6, and get that ornery husband of hers to change course. Her prayers were answered when Pap made a deal with God, just like so many people have done for eons. It God would heal my 3 year old Aunt from pneumonia, he would surrender his heart to Jesus. God did his part, overnight, and Pap fulfilled his promise. Pap did change our family for generations to come, but my Gramma was responsible for the first domino. The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
Enter my father, the youngest of the six with five older sisters. Let’s just say he was well taken care of. The Golden Boy arrived at long last. Raised in Wellsburg, WV, by the time he arrived my grandfather had been redeemed and reared all his children in the church and taught them the Word of God not as a storybook, but as a way of life. Spare the rod, spoil the child may have been taken a little too far at times, but it all worked out in the end. My dad worked in the glass factory briefly before deciding that more school was the better option over back breaking labor in a factory hot from glass ovens and the as noisy as an F-18 Super Hornet going into afterburner in your ear.
College led to Seminary, and voila, Rev. Llewellyn was out to slay the devil.
Moving to the midwest, he joined the Free Methodist Conference and began his ministry. This was at a time that if the pastor wasn’t the poorest man in the church, people raised their eyebrows in judgement, so my dad took matters into his own hands. He built houses in his spare time, which there wasn’t much of. He raised softball and basketball teams in the church, visited folks in the hospital tirelessly, built houses and churches (literally built churches), raised three kids, attained a PhD, ran for Mayor etc…the list goes on. Love for his family and for others was his driving force in life, and I mean all people. Let’s just say that any disparaging word toward anyone whether they be black, white, hispanic, asian or someone with whom we disagreed, was not allowed. Had one of his children used a derogatory phrase to describe someone, ever, the spare the rod and spoil the child mantra of family tradition would’ve come out in full force. So it didn’t happen.
My father could do almost anything, talk to anyone, and lead people to Christ like no other. And that takes us back to the one who really made it all happen. Yep. A woman standing in the shadows, pulling the strings, and making it all go down. My dad’s mercurial nature also brought with it the struggles that follow men who don’t follow the path of least resistance and state their mind without fear of what others think of him. And his busy lifestyle kept him away from home a good bit, leaving his wife to do the major lifting in child rearing. We miss my dad and wax poetically about his life and all that he accomplished, which is impressive, but the one who deserves the lioness share of credit would be his wife, our mother. They say that behind every successful man is a woman rolling her eyes, and I know that was her even though she would never let us see her disrespect him in any way, shape for form.
I feel blessed to have had them as my parents. I miss you, Pops.