His Days are Done...

My Dad passed away a few days ago...he was so sick for six months - chemo, radiation, losing weight, his hair...but never his optimism that this too would pass. He had a horrible, “life-saving” operation that was, by all accounts, incredibly successful. After a two week recovery in the hospital, he was sent home. Three days later he told my Mom that he wanted to rest in bed for a few more minutes – when she checked on him a short while later, he was already gone. I received a call at work from my neighbor, who told me “your Dad has fallen and you need to come home quickly.” I knew, before I hung up the phone, what I’d find…Mom was sitting on the bed, holding his hand and talking to him. I sat there with her for about five minutes, then I reached over, closed his eyes, and turned up the electric blanket (for my Mom’s sake). Within fifteen minutes, the priest and another friend from the church had come and gone – and then they took his body away. It was the longest morning of my life. The following day, I wrote the following. I wonder why, now, I couldn’t have written it a week before he passed away – but that’s not the way it works, is it?


Eulogy for Richard, my Dad, who passed away peacefully on March 20, 2007

I have heard, over the years, that writing a Eulogy can be one of the most difficult speeches a person ever has to write. And I’d have to agree – there isn’t a clear beginning, middle, or an end. Although dad passed away peacefully a few days ago, he will continue to live on through his children, grandchildren, and all the others he touched.

I’ve also heard that the loss of a parent is one of life’s most traumatic events...I now know that to be true. But I also hear that time will heal the devastating hole in my heart – and that over time the hurt will fade. That when I think of Dad, it won’t be along the lines of: today is the first Friday without him… or… this is the first Easter we’re celebrating without him. Instead, I’ll be able to look back and recall the happy times we spent together.

My dad was a remarkably good and decent man, the type of man who should be a role model for children. He was kind, gentle, hard working, cheerful, devoted and, above all else, a man of integrity. And it was understood that he expected no less from his children. These traits were ingrained in each of us, because he taught us by example. I rarely saw my Dad lose his patience or raise his voice – in fact throughout almost fifty years of knowing him, I only heard him utter a bad word twice – I was so startled the first time that I backed out of the hotel room without him ever knowing I heard it. It turns out while we were on vacation, someone at work had let him down – he hadn’t carried through on something key to one of Dad’s projects. My older sister Kathy explained that there are times when even my Dad might have to use something stronger than “Darn it.” The second time, by the way, was a couple of weeks ago – all I can say is that the food at Emory Crawford Long must really be bad!

I’ve asked my brothers and sisters, and niece and nephews for a few of their favorite memories. Here, in no particular order, are a few of them.

• Going to Costco with Benjamin, wearing matching Crocs, and then stopping at the Chick-fil-A and the Caboose Park on the way home – Dad loved taking the grandkids to the parks.
• Dad loved to read Dr. Seuss stories to us every night at bedtime – I think he knew most of them by heart.
• He also loved the Peanuts Gang – and sent Mom a Snoopy card for every occasion. We all enjoyed finding Snoopy cards to send to him – and he was so pleased when Stephen starred as Snoopy in his middle school play. It was a sad day for Dad when he heard Charles Shultz was putting down his pen.
• Dad loved the water – and spent countless hours with us at Echo Ridge – throwing us – and our friends - up in the air, or teaching us how to dive. For those of us who didn’t like heights (that would include me), he never made us feel inferior for not wanting to jump off the high board – and it was understood that nobody else would either. And at the beach, he loved to body surf – and reveled in teaching us all how to do it.
• Growing up, we always seemed to take our summer vacations with either the Ubers or Sees – both long time family friends. Those vacations continued long after we were grown…in fact, Mom and Dad, and Jackie and Don Uber vacationed together in Europe on both their 25th and 50th wedding anniversaries.
• He went to many kid functions, for us and for his grandchildren. He watched Daniel play football, enjoyed Patrick’s recitals, cheered on Cole and Bryce at baseball, and marveled at Grace’s tumbling – and helped Andrew catch a record number of fish.
• Several of his children and grandchildren inherited his thick wavy hair…although only Anna has the good fortune to have his clear blue eyes.

But as lucky as we kids were to have him as a father, it was my mother who was really blessed. To say that Dad was devoted to Mom is a huge understatement. We didn’t ever hear them argue, not because they wouldn’t or couldn’t do so in front of us – they just didn’t. Period. From time to time they might have a difference of opinion, but on those rare occasions, they worked the issue out calmly and rationally. I don’t believe my father ever raised his voice towards Mom…

When I was much younger, and Dad was moving up through the ranks at Coca-Cola, his job often took him to various parts of the country. Many were the day that he’d take the early bird out - and, as it was called back then, the owly bird back the same day. These were long hard trips that ordinarily would have called for a night on the road – but he much preferred to be home with us…and especially Mom. That’s the kind of man he was – devoted to his family – and lost without mom.

My Father believed that everything happens for a reason – and that everyone should strive to know and do the will of God. It was a very rare Sunday that we, as a family, didn’t go to church…even while on vacation in the remotest of spots – if there was a church nearby, we were there come Sunday morning. When Dad got sick last fall and became too weak to attend church in person, he so looked forward to Ann, Joe or Father Jack bringing communion to him.

For my faith in God, I thank him.

He also believed strongly that a person’s circumstances were, in most cases, heavily influenced by the decisions they had made. But he never lost faith that a person who had a history of making poor choices was beyond redemption. I know a couple of people who, because of poor choices, were on the road to ruin. However, with his guidance, support, and never ending faith, they are today renewed in life and spirit – and they are right here among us. One in particular, asked me to mention this side of my Dad, one that few have seen first hand.

I’ll close with a few comments related to the very first movie I remember seeing – Mary Poppins…and how it ties in with my Dad. Several years ago, while taking a break from building a spectacular tree fort for one of our sons, Dad came in to take a break from the heat – and enjoy a glass of iced-tea. Andrew, my youngest son, was watching Mary Poppins – and I’ll never forget the smile that graced Dad’s face when Julie Andrews began singing “Feed the Birds.”

I’m sure many of you remember Dick Van Dyke playing Bert – the chimney sweep, one-man-band, street artist, basically a jack-of-all-trades. That was my Dad…although he couldn’t play an instrument, he could do just about anything else he put his mind to…auto mechanic, electrician, woodworker, financial planner, story teller, engineer, builder, cook and grill-master. Well, anyway, do you remember Michael and Jane, off to see the bank, how they got sidetracked with a chalk drawing, and end up going on a foxhunt and merry go-round race? Along the same lines, Dad loved to travel and see new places – and he instilled that in us as well. For instance, a vacation to Niagara Falls also meant a stop at Little Round Top in Gettysburg, a tour of the Hershey factory, a stop at a glass manufacturer, a tour of the Finger Lakes, and finally the falls. A vacation to the beach also meant touring the nearby aircraft carrier, a walk to the top of the lighthouse, an afternoon at Kill Devil Hills, attending a play put on by the local townspeople, and crabbing in the Intercoastal Waterway. A vacation was never just about getting somewhere, sitting and relaxing (although we did some of that too). No, a vacation was about taking his outstretched hand, and seeing where the road would lead us.

At this point I reached down and pulled up a commemorative snowglobe of St. Paul’s Cathedral, exactly like the one Julie Andrews had in the movie Mary Poppins. It plays the hauntingly beautiful song “Feed the Birds” and birds “fly” around the Cathedral instead of snow. Over the course of the next couple of paragraphs, I twisted the key, displayed the globe for everyone to see and hear, and motioned for Patrick to take it from me and present it to Mom.

In the same movie, shortly after arriving back home, the children are told the story of an old lady sitting in front of St. Paul’s Cathedral, selling bread crumbs to passers-by to feed the hungry birds. This is a turning point in the movie – the children are learning that there is more to life than understanding the principles of making money – and their father soon comes to realize this as well. In much the same way, my father taught us, not so much with words -- but by his actions and how he lived his life - everyday, that being a good, caring, loving person, is what life is all about.

Mom – when the days get long, and they undoubtedly will – and you miss Dad more than you can just about bear, please pick up this snowglobe, twist the key, listen to the beautiful song, and remember that Dad loved you, and all of us, more than anything in the world. That is what life is all about – and nobody better exemplified that than my Father. Nobody.

In his final months, he fought his battle with courage and grace – and he also showed us how a man so thrilled with life, can be at peace with it’s end. After enduring months of the pain and agony of radiation and chemotherapy, he stoically faced the grueling seven-hour operation, knowing that if he woke up at all, that his recovery would take months of slow painful progress. And, he had just begun that journey when the Lord called him home. We look forward to the day when we will see him again – strong and sure, and the pain and sadness of his parting will be gone forever.

From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank each one of you for coming this morning. Good friends and family came from thousands of miles away to see Dad off. Many of you have taken time off from work this morning, and just about everyone had to drive a great distance to be here. That is a testament to just how well Dad was loved and admired. I know Dad is looking down upon us with a warm heart and smile on his face. May God bless him, his family, and everyone who knew and loved him.

Dad, I love you – THANK YOU – God speed.