I have been thinking a lot about my dad recently. Not only because it is father's day, but also because it is almost a year since he passed away. My dad was an amazing man who left a wonderful legacy for all his posterity. I hope that someday I can instill in my children the qualities and love that my dad exemplified while on this earth. In thinking of my dad, I kept thinking of the talk that my brother gave at his funeral. It is such a fitting tribute and truly testifies of who my dad was and is. For I know that he lives on and that I will see him again, if I but live up to the legacy he left me.
The following is from Ben's talk at my dad's funeral...
I’m going to try to tell you about my dad today. I know it won’t be an adequate tribute, but I want to tell you what kind of man he was. I’m going to do that by telling you what kind of man he wasn’t and what kind of man he was.
My father was not a famous man. He did nothing to gain the attention of the world or anything noteworthy by other people’s standards. However, my father was always inconspicuously and humbly serving everyone around him. Since he died, people have described my dad to me as a gem and a sweet, sweet man. My father was not a great communicator. In fact, sometimes we had a hard time figuring out what the hell he was talking about. At times, he had a difficult time recalling words, especially after he had had major brain surgery. And that could frustrate him and it could frustrate his listener. Although my father wasn’t a great communicator, he was someone that could talk to absolutely anyone. He was friendly with everyone he met and could strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. At times as a kid this was really embarrassing, as he would tell the store clerk his life story. But I admired his ability to converse and connect with everybody. He would use this skill all the time as he would ride the bus and he would share many missionary moments with unsuspecting strangers on buses, at bus stops, and anywhere he had the chance to share the gospel.
My father was not a comedian. Sometimes as a son you would just cringe at his corny little jokes. However my father always had a smile for everyone. I’ never forget his goofy grin you can see on the program. He was always very upbeat, always smiled, made a joke with everyone he met, even when he was __ so much, it was unseen.
My father wasn’t a bishop or stake president or some well known church leader. My father was a man of faith who was dedicated in all his callings. Most dear to him was his calling as a stake missionary. He loved sharing the gospel with others and touched many lives as an official and unofficial missionary, including many who joined the church in large part because of his testimony. He was also a dedicated home teacher. As I was looking through hi wallet yesterday seeing what was in there the only papers he really had in there was he had a medication list and he had several copies of contact information for his home teaching families. That was the kind of man he was.
My father was not judgmental of others. My father was so good at working with members of the church who didn’t necessarily want to have contact with the church, the so called less actives, though I hate that term. A few weeks ago he told me a story. He has been home teaching a family that hasn’t come to church in many, many years, probably decades. And he really got to know them well and really loved them. One time our neighbor gave my dad a can of beer for doing something in the yard and this family that he was home teaching, their dog died and my dad felt bad. So he took over that beer to this less active member to cheer him up. And he said, “You can even tell the bishop that your home teacher brought you a beer.”
My father was meek, non-judgmental and completely devoid of malice.
My father was not a healthy man, but he was taken from this world far too young. My father had the patience of Job. Dad developed diabetes and epilepsy in his thirties, and to endure a lot of hardships because of that. He had to sell his catering company because of his dwindling health and then he had to sell his furniture restoration business and went from owning his own business to working at a mortuary where he was pretty much the lowest man on the totem pole, cleaning, performing maintenance, whatever they wanted. But he didn’t complain. He did the best job that he could. He also lost the ability to drive and few of us can comprehend how this loss of independence would feel. However through all of this, he was like Job and instead of cursing God he became more strong in his faith.
Over the past few years, his health has improved. And thanks to brain surgery, he hadn’t had a seizure for the last fifteen months of his life. He worked hard in speech and occupational therapy and was getting to communicate better and was feeling very happy and this is one reason why this is fair and very hard to take.
My father was not an athlete. He didn’t teach me to shoot a basketball or hit a baseball and it is probably better that he didn’t. However, my father loved watching his boys play sports. He was very supportive.
My father was not a man of many hobbies. In fact, I’m not sure that he had any hobbies at all. Trying to imagine him play golf is pretty laughable actually. This made father’s day, Christmas, birthday’s extremely frustrating. Usually the call home would go something like this, “Anything you want for Father’s day, Dad?” “Oh, not really” “Is there anything that you need at all?” “No, just whatever” “Okay, put Mom on the phone” “Mom, anything Dad needs for Father’s day?” “I guess he needs a new pair of jeans or some socks or maybe you can get him some pajamas.” Any more often than not we would have to resort to these lame gifts. Though my father was not a man of many hobbies, my father was concerned with doing whatever made everyone else happy. He just went along for the ride, never complaining, enjoying being with his family whatever they wanted to do. He loved his children and grandchildren and was always so proud of them. Although he was difficult to shop for, he was the most unselfish person. He was always thinking of others before himself. One little example that Briana shared. My folks put a red block U on their chimney that you can light and when Briana got accepted to the U, when she came home Dad light up the block U to show that he was excited for her and he did little things like that all the time.
My father was not an educated man. He started out in college, but things didn’t work out very well, I’ve seen his report cards. Although he was not an educated man, he was so knowledgeable about so many things. He was a great handyman. Over the past few years, ever since I bought my first house, it has made me have so much more respect for him and all the stuff that he knows. I would just call him with questions about anything, and it could be any home problems, and he would always know how to fix it. And he always said, “You know, I wish I was there to help you fix it.”
My father was not a rich man. My father was, however, the hardest working man I know. From a young age, if I learned one lesson from my father, it was the importance of hard work. He was tolerant of everyone, but he had no tolerance for laziness. He would always force us children except for Sam, who seemed to like it, to help in out in whatever project he was working on.
A few weeks ago, I bought a house in Indiana. My mom and dad were able to come out for my graduation and come help us get settled in our new home. And there were a few projects to get done, some painting (it had pink walls unfortunately), we had to put in some flooring, and some different things. My folks fly out, fly to Indianapolis, drove two hours to Fort Wayne, had dinner with us as soon as they got there, and before Laura and I had even finished eating my mom was outside starting to pull some weeds and my dad starting to pull some wallpaper that had to come down. That was the kind of man he was, he worked he butt off. And the only thing he wanted while he was there, as long as he had his diet Coke, or his diet Pepsi now it is, he would help us out. And he had to have set some sort of record for the amount of diet Pepsi consumed. He consumed about 8 liters the first three days he was there. We kept having to go buy more. We couldn’t believe it. Maybe that’s what killed him.
My father was not ever concerned about himself. My father was always serving others. He lived serving others and he died serving others.
I just want to share one last story that exemplifies his life. I just found this out the other night, this story. Amy bought my grandma’s house on ninth east. My dad wasn’t able to drive because of his epilepsy, so he always had to beg a ride from people and that was always so hard for him, I know. Amy didn’t have a lawn mower so my dad would always mow Amy’s lawn for her. One time, I guess he couldn’t get a ride to get down there, for someone to take him and the lawnmower down there. So my father walked the lawn mower down to Amy’s house on ninth east. It’s 3.2 miles, I looked it up on Mapquest today. 3.2 miles on the sidewalk, he walked the lawn mower to her house. What other person would do something like that?
No, my father was not a rich man, an educated man, or a famous man. My father was quite simply the salt of the earth.
My father was not a famous man. He did nothing to gain the attention of the world or anything noteworthy by other people’s standards. However, my father was always inconspicuously and humbly serving everyone around him. Since he died, people have described my dad to me as a gem and a sweet, sweet man. My father was not a great communicator. In fact, sometimes we had a hard time figuring out what the hell he was talking about. At times, he had a difficult time recalling words, especially after he had had major brain surgery. And that could frustrate him and it could frustrate his listener. Although my father wasn’t a great communicator, he was someone that could talk to absolutely anyone. He was friendly with everyone he met and could strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. At times as a kid this was really embarrassing, as he would tell the store clerk his life story. But I admired his ability to converse and connect with everybody. He would use this skill all the time as he would ride the bus and he would share many missionary moments with unsuspecting strangers on buses, at bus stops, and anywhere he had the chance to share the gospel.
My father was not a comedian. Sometimes as a son you would just cringe at his corny little jokes. However my father always had a smile for everyone. I’ never forget his goofy grin you can see on the program. He was always very upbeat, always smiled, made a joke with everyone he met, even when he was __ so much, it was unseen.
My father wasn’t a bishop or stake president or some well known church leader. My father was a man of faith who was dedicated in all his callings. Most dear to him was his calling as a stake missionary. He loved sharing the gospel with others and touched many lives as an official and unofficial missionary, including many who joined the church in large part because of his testimony. He was also a dedicated home teacher. As I was looking through hi wallet yesterday seeing what was in there the only papers he really had in there was he had a medication list and he had several copies of contact information for his home teaching families. That was the kind of man he was.
My father was not judgmental of others. My father was so good at working with members of the church who didn’t necessarily want to have contact with the church, the so called less actives, though I hate that term. A few weeks ago he told me a story. He has been home teaching a family that hasn’t come to church in many, many years, probably decades. And he really got to know them well and really loved them. One time our neighbor gave my dad a can of beer for doing something in the yard and this family that he was home teaching, their dog died and my dad felt bad. So he took over that beer to this less active member to cheer him up. And he said, “You can even tell the bishop that your home teacher brought you a beer.”
My father was meek, non-judgmental and completely devoid of malice.
My father was not a healthy man, but he was taken from this world far too young. My father had the patience of Job. Dad developed diabetes and epilepsy in his thirties, and to endure a lot of hardships because of that. He had to sell his catering company because of his dwindling health and then he had to sell his furniture restoration business and went from owning his own business to working at a mortuary where he was pretty much the lowest man on the totem pole, cleaning, performing maintenance, whatever they wanted. But he didn’t complain. He did the best job that he could. He also lost the ability to drive and few of us can comprehend how this loss of independence would feel. However through all of this, he was like Job and instead of cursing God he became more strong in his faith.
Over the past few years, his health has improved. And thanks to brain surgery, he hadn’t had a seizure for the last fifteen months of his life. He worked hard in speech and occupational therapy and was getting to communicate better and was feeling very happy and this is one reason why this is fair and very hard to take.
My father was not an athlete. He didn’t teach me to shoot a basketball or hit a baseball and it is probably better that he didn’t. However, my father loved watching his boys play sports. He was very supportive.
My father was not a man of many hobbies. In fact, I’m not sure that he had any hobbies at all. Trying to imagine him play golf is pretty laughable actually. This made father’s day, Christmas, birthday’s extremely frustrating. Usually the call home would go something like this, “Anything you want for Father’s day, Dad?” “Oh, not really” “Is there anything that you need at all?” “No, just whatever” “Okay, put Mom on the phone” “Mom, anything Dad needs for Father’s day?” “I guess he needs a new pair of jeans or some socks or maybe you can get him some pajamas.” Any more often than not we would have to resort to these lame gifts. Though my father was not a man of many hobbies, my father was concerned with doing whatever made everyone else happy. He just went along for the ride, never complaining, enjoying being with his family whatever they wanted to do. He loved his children and grandchildren and was always so proud of them. Although he was difficult to shop for, he was the most unselfish person. He was always thinking of others before himself. One little example that Briana shared. My folks put a red block U on their chimney that you can light and when Briana got accepted to the U, when she came home Dad light up the block U to show that he was excited for her and he did little things like that all the time.
My father was not an educated man. He started out in college, but things didn’t work out very well, I’ve seen his report cards. Although he was not an educated man, he was so knowledgeable about so many things. He was a great handyman. Over the past few years, ever since I bought my first house, it has made me have so much more respect for him and all the stuff that he knows. I would just call him with questions about anything, and it could be any home problems, and he would always know how to fix it. And he always said, “You know, I wish I was there to help you fix it.”
My father was not a rich man. My father was, however, the hardest working man I know. From a young age, if I learned one lesson from my father, it was the importance of hard work. He was tolerant of everyone, but he had no tolerance for laziness. He would always force us children except for Sam, who seemed to like it, to help in out in whatever project he was working on.
A few weeks ago, I bought a house in Indiana. My mom and dad were able to come out for my graduation and come help us get settled in our new home. And there were a few projects to get done, some painting (it had pink walls unfortunately), we had to put in some flooring, and some different things. My folks fly out, fly to Indianapolis, drove two hours to Fort Wayne, had dinner with us as soon as they got there, and before Laura and I had even finished eating my mom was outside starting to pull some weeds and my dad starting to pull some wallpaper that had to come down. That was the kind of man he was, he worked he butt off. And the only thing he wanted while he was there, as long as he had his diet Coke, or his diet Pepsi now it is, he would help us out. And he had to have set some sort of record for the amount of diet Pepsi consumed. He consumed about 8 liters the first three days he was there. We kept having to go buy more. We couldn’t believe it. Maybe that’s what killed him.
My father was not ever concerned about himself. My father was always serving others. He lived serving others and he died serving others.
I just want to share one last story that exemplifies his life. I just found this out the other night, this story. Amy bought my grandma’s house on ninth east. My dad wasn’t able to drive because of his epilepsy, so he always had to beg a ride from people and that was always so hard for him, I know. Amy didn’t have a lawn mower so my dad would always mow Amy’s lawn for her. One time, I guess he couldn’t get a ride to get down there, for someone to take him and the lawnmower down there. So my father walked the lawn mower down to Amy’s house on ninth east. It’s 3.2 miles, I looked it up on Mapquest today. 3.2 miles on the sidewalk, he walked the lawn mower to her house. What other person would do something like that?
No, my father was not a rich man, an educated man, or a famous man. My father was quite simply the salt of the earth.
4 comments:
We've been thinking about him today too and have had tears in our eyes thinking of the things we wish we could still do with him. It is so hard to loose someone we love and at such a young age. I loved Ben's talk too.
What a great tribute to your dad. It brought tears to my eyes.
My heart is aching for you and your family. Ben's talk was truly amazing! My thoughts and prayers are with you as you continue in the journey. Love ya!
I think I will remember Ben's talk for the rest of my life. I've thought about it many times this past year and it was such a fitting tribute to your sweet dad. I can't believe how big Ali and James are now! They are so darling! Glad they could come out for a visit.
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