Sunday will be father's day. My father passed away 9 years ago. I have a video of my Dad's band performing, in between songs my father talks. It makes me cry because I miss the sound of his voice. My father was a kind hearted person who would give the shirt off from his own back if someone had need of it. He was generous, I do not believe a person can be too generous because I believe that we receive much more than we could ever give. When my father passed away I felt numb, I had to hold it together for my mother, call family to notify them and help make funeral arrangements. As time went by grief became like an ocean, some days the current was strong and would wash over me, filling my eyes with tears. Then it would ebb, moving away from my soul. The hardest part was passing by the house on my way to work each day knowing that my father no longer sat in his wheelchair by the window, the easiest part was knowing that he was no longer suffering. Grief is, after all, for those left, not for the ones who have gone. I want to share in memory of my father, Joseph, the eulogy I wrote.
My Dad, where do I start to describe my Dad.
Daddy was someone I knew I could depend on. He worked hard to provide for our family, long hours of backbreaking labor.
When Daddy went grocery shopping with us he put all the unnecessary things in the cart Mom normally wouldn't get, such as pickled pigs feet.
Daddy helped me pull my first loose tooth, put a bowl on my head and used it as a guide to cut my hair and bribed me with 50 cents to take my medicine when everything my Mom tried failed.
I won the 4th grade spelling bee, when I brought my certificate home Daddy tucked it in his wallet. I remember him proudly taking it out and showing it to others.
Daddy and I shared the love of many things, music, history and westerns being a few. Mama always had a strict bedtime for us on school nights, 8 o'clock, but sometimes, if I was very fortunate, with some begging and pleading, Mom let me stay up on occasion. Daddy and I would watch westerns, such as The High Chaparral, Bonanza or Gunsmoke. I think I was the only kid around that got up at 6:30 Saturday morning to watch Stagecoach.
I recall Daddy telling me that as a young person he would go to the Saturday show at the movies and watch Roy Rogers and Gene Autry. He wanted to play a guitar and expressed his desire to my grandparents. They bought him his first guitar for Christmas and thus Dad's music career began.
Sunday afternoon was quiet time as Daddy recorded his Saturday morning show for WRKD radio on the Wollensack reel to reel tape player. Daddy and his band played in many places with Mama and us children going right along with him. Daddy played at the 5 J's restaurant for a time and while Daddy played Mama worked making pizzas in the kitchen. One night while slicing pepperoni Mom accidentally cut off a little piece of the top of her finger. Daddy, in his cool collected way, announced, "Folks please don't eat the pizza, my wife's finger might be in it."
Daddy had many sides to him. He loved to joke, but he was also sensitive and caring. At the urging from a message I heard in church on Father's Day, it was suggested that I write a letter of appreciation to my father.I went home and wrote that letter, I gave it to my mother and she read it to him, she later told me that he cried when she read it to him.
There are many things a child learns from watching, as I watched I learned. I learned that love is enduring, love will love you on your worst day as well as your best day, love forgives, when we are the weakest love is the strongest, love serves and love is humbled to accept being served. These are the things I saw..
Two months prior to my father's death I stopped at my parents house daily. Daddy's words to me were, "Have I ever told you that I think you are beautiful because you know that I have always thought you are beautiful." "Isn't your mother the most beautiful woman." To my mother he expressed his appreciation for her sacrifice of caring for him so faithfully after he suffered his stroke.
Two weeks before he died he matter of factly said, "I'm ready to go, but I know I have to wait for God's time to come and take me." God's time came on December 20, 2003 and Daddy went.
I was thinking that when I go on a trip and I know I'm going to be away for a long time I take extra care to water my plants with more water than they need at the time knowing it will be used up while I am away. Daddy knew he would be leaving soon and he poured out extra helpings of love and appreciation knowing it would be used up while he was away.
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