Feelings
I shared at my father's funeral at Gulph Christian Church on March 6, 1996:
During
the time I spent with my father in the hospital, I wrote down some of my
thoughts.
When my
mother died, it hurt so much knowing Brooke Wade wouldn't have his grandmother's
love. But in the fourteen years since,
my father has given both Brooke Wade and Brent more than I ever hoped for.
In his
own special way, my father gave his love to Brooke Wade and Brent
individually. He loved their uniqueness
and openly praised their accomplishments and talents giving each his
unconditional grandfather's love. They
were both SO special in his eyes.
My
father and Brooke Wade had a special relationship. My father thought the world of him, telling
others with unabashed pride about his mechanical ability and tractors. Pop Pop
was an easy mark for Brooke Wade to take him to Green Dragon to shop in the
junk store before he got his license.
After Brooke Wade got his license, my father enjoyed being chauffeured
there.
Pop Pop
was always there for him, and Brooke Wade felt so comfortable calling Pop Pop
to tell him of his latest venture. In my
father's eyes, Brooke Wade could do no wrong.
Within the last month, instead of calling me, my father would call
Brooke Wade to come over to help him with house projects. They had a VERY special relationship for
which I am so grateful.
Brent
was his grandfather's pride and joy; the athlete he could watch and brag
about. Pop Pop was Brent's most
dedicated fan at all of Brent's athletic contests - from his school track
meets, to his baseball games, to his basketball games. They both flew by the seat of their
pants! Brent, as well as Brooke Wade and
myself, could do no wrong in my father's eyes.
It hurts
to realize that we will never again hear my father's booming voice yell,
"Way to go, Brentie!" at one of his games.
Joy
ended up being the daughter my father never had. He cherished her and she treated him as she
would her own father. She was much
easier for him to talk to than me. I'm
so grateful for Joy's concern to always include my father in our family's
activities.
I think
Joy has felt the loss of my father as deeply as me. She has helped me through this very difficult
time in the hospital and now.
My
father has given me unconditional love and acceptance. His supportive nature and unabashed boasting
about me to anyone who would listen was something I have cherished all my life.
Growing
up, he allowed me to do things around the house, even though at first they
weren't up to the standards I'm sure he could have done himself. That gave me the confidence to grow and
develop in various areas.
In our
later years I feel we were closest on the golf course playing together in the
church league which we had done for over 20 years. Competing side-by-side we shared a common bond
- a golfer's bond - as well as a father-son relationship. I was continually amazed at his athletic
prowess even at his advancing age. We
would help each other analyze our games, always seemingly able to help each
other figure out what was wrong. We
shared our feelings - both dislikes and fondness for the guys we played with
and against. Those memories, together
with the memories of his times with the family, are the ones I will cherish the
most.
Thursday
night was "golf." But it was
much more than that. It was a time my
father and I would be together - playing.
And a time I had him all to myself.
A time I had to share him with no one.
It was very special.
I
realize that our tears now are kind of selfish.
It hurts because WE will miss him.
But as I told George last night, the reunion when he joined his loved
ones and his friends must have been something!
He loved get-togethers, and I'm sure that was his biggest!
I'm
grateful that he was active and vibrant up till the time he died. And as much as he loved life and lived life
to the fullest, I'm sure he is happiest now.
And I
know we will all soon be together.
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