eulogy:
There is no way for me to sum up my relationship with Dad, and I can’t even imagine trying… I think most of his family and friends feel the same way. We all knew who he was and yet he was someone a little different with each of us. He was so completely engaged with whoever he was talking to, you always felt that intensity. Whether he was telling you what you SHOULD be doing for a career, or explaining the ins and outs of something that you were pretty sure he’d never actually done, he was all yours for that time. There was no one else in the room when he zoomed in on a conversation with you.

But he also had his “Classic” sayings and behaviors: “YEAH BOY!” “AH! GOD!” “Come on, you know you want to…” that he would say to everyone, but you knew that THAT time, he meant it just for you.

Monday night, Doug, Jack, Jodi and my son Gabe were sitting around talking and I said that I thought Dad used humor as a way to keep a little bit of a safe distance from his emotions. He knew that a joke could deflect something that looked like it was going to get too emotional. And in a way I think, his final instructions for his funeral were his way of trying to save us all once again. Just like when your pipes burst at 2am in January or your car broke down on the side of the road…this was another emergency that he knew how to fix.

Cuz all a guy needs to do to ease the devastating pain of losing Dad is to laugh. And all you need is a couple of guys who know what they’re doing…and here we all are. Dad left us the tools and the knowledge of how to use them.

Unfortunately this is not a completely fool-proof plan. I know that we will be feeling his absence forever. I was always so relieved that he could fix the pipes, or get the car going – or at least bring his car dolly and get you out of there. And I guess in a way he’s doing it again. “We gotta get a handle on this,” I can hear him saying, “And then we can deal with the rest of it later.” Laughter, sharing stories, leaning on each other…that’s how we’ll get a handle on it. We’ll have the rest of our lives to deal with it.

In the meantime, this feels like an okay way to let him go. This feels about right, Dad. So Thanks. Thanks for being there one last time.


Graveside sonnet:

He is not here and will not feel the chill
Nor hear the silence of the falling snow
He will not hear the crows that scream and scold
But knows the truths that only death can know

He basks at last in God’s eternal glow
And finds the answers sought throughout his days
In peace he rises as we lay him low
To feel no more the pain of earthly ways

Surrounded by his family’s loving gaze
Everything he thought forever lost
Reunions full of love and holy praise
Taking place while we stand here in the frost

Celestial arms hold him while we wait
To meet again at Heaven’s holy gate

Today's sonnet:

The icy hand of Sorrow grasps at me
I dodge and feint but cannot break from her
She marks me with her angry filigree
And etches deep your living moniker

No smudge can make the burning lines a blur
No reason takes your name from off my heart
My every caution makes her grip more sure
And soon my frail resistance falls apart

Your voice, your laugh forever in the dark
Where silence mocks the echo of my pain
The searing ache that comes from Death’s sure mark
The howling of the wind that blows in vain

Keep back! I scream, to keep my thoughts at bay
But Death, you know, will always find a way.