How do you begin to sum up a man’s life?
Do you talk about the joys? The incredible sorrows? His angers? His fears?
I guess you could start by talking a little about the eighty-eight years he was here.
You could say he had three daughters from a first marriage; Diane, Rhonda and finally, me. Would you mention the miscarriage in between those girls?
What about the pain of losing his four closest friends to drowning when he was in his early twenties?
Or watching his wife of forty years die of cancer?
Would you tell how he told of being alone with his mother when he was eleven, that together they watched his little sister die?
Or of how he was predeceased by four more sisters and seven brothers, leaving only his brother Abe to now mourn them all?
Would you tell of how he claimed his next wife’s two daughters as his own? That he never called them stepdaughters, that they were simply now his daughters too. That his love was big enough for everyone?
And, that when I brought Kevin and his two sons into his life, that they were immediately and proudly introduced as his grandsons?
Would you mention, that in spite of all he endured, his humour and optimism were his signatures? That he loved nothing better than a good clean joke? Would you remember his endless telling of Readers’ Digest funniest anecdotes? Or that no matter when you asked him how he was doing, that he had only one answer?
“Great!!”
And, if asked to do almost anything, he would say, “Why not?” and then proceed to jump on the camel, dog-paddle in the Mediterranean, take another piece of pie or parasail behind a skiboat.
Or would you talk about his incredible love of reading? His love of baseball? His pride and adoration of his grandchildren and great grandchildren?
And then…would it be wrong to talk about his wrath? That, although slow to anger, as a younger man, he could be as frightening as Jesus clearing the temple?
Random memories surface for me…
Each Sunday, Dad and my childhood self, kneeling on the shag carpet while we counted the cash from the church offering. My job of carefully folding each bill down the long middle, stacking the Queen’s face on the different piles of ones, twos, fives, tens and twenties.
Four quarters, twenty nickels, ten dimes, one hundred pennies, checked and re-checked. Each little white envelope opened and accounted for, unaware that I was learning math, but more importantly, lessons in honesty, integrity, the importance of offering time, of playing your part in something bigger than your own interests, and best of all, spending time side by side with a good father.
A man that lived his truth.
A man who knew how to say sorry.
A man who said I love you.
A thankful man.
A good man.
My father who died this morning.
Hallowed be thy name…
Hi Colleen: It is very difficult to say good-bye to our parents. But take comfort that your Dad will never die in memory and will travel with you always. Love Joan
Thank you Joan. That is so beautiful and comforting. I agree that our stories and memories are all that we really have…such an incredible gift.
Colleen
What a wonderful tribute to a great man. I think back over the years and the stories are too many to mention, all of them good.
The most important thing for me, is your dad was one of the key people in my life to give me an opportunity to succeed.
He was always positive, never judgmental, showed you the way and let you run with it.
He taught me how to work.
The two people I owe for my business success, are my dad and Hank. Hank was a boss, a ball teammate, a business partner, a mentor, but most importantly, a friend.
He made me a better person, I will always remember him with respect.
Take care. Clay
I have heard that we often see in others what is sometimes hidden from ourselves. I know this is true for myself. When I react very negatively to someone’s behaviour, it’s often because it’s a trait of my own that I don’t really want to acknowledge. It’s much easier to be dismissive of someone else’s bad behaviour, than to recognise it as my own darker side.
Conversely, it is often hard to see our own good qualities, so Clay, just in case you don’t know…I remember very clearly that when Dad was going through his worst times in business, when he had what I now know was a nervous breakdown, it was you that he wanted to come in to help with the business.
He saw how you conducted yourself, how you worked and knew you were someone he could trust to manage things while he recuperated.
Dad always spoke highly of you. I am so glad he had you in his life.
Colleen, how well he must have loved you, your entire family and so many others, that there is such an outpouring of love back to him through your writing and in the comments on that tribute. As one writer stated, there is that threshold beyond which we cannot pass quite yet. We only stand and watch our loved ones slip through, and promise to join them there one day. The joy is in the journey. Your writing shows that you cherish the memory of that journey with your father.
You’re right Mandy. I am in awe of how much he was loved. I thought I knew that, but now I really know it 🙂
It is humbling and strange to have been with him as he stepped through and beyond that threshold.
Watching him stare off into some unknown middle distance made me realize I was in the presence of the greatest of mysteries.
I believe the journey to death is our final and most heroic act.
Colleen,
My thoughts are with you at this time. Big hugs to you and yours.
Coral
Thank you so much Coral. I can feel that hug and that’s a good good thing.
Saddened to hear the news. Your Dad was a very respected man in our community. He will be missed.
Thanks so much for adding your condolences Calvin. It means a lot to hear so many different perspectives on my father. Much appreciated…
Hi Colleen
I am so sorry for your loss, and what a beautiful tribute to a man that was so well known in this town and liked. Your father and your family name is well respected here and you are a very Blessed daughter. Again, I’m saddened to hear of your loss.
Thanks for your condolences Bud. I appreciate all your kind comments. I think that in the end it is how we treated others that matters. And in that regard,I believe my dad succeeded 🙂
What a wonderful tribute to a very special man! I remember so many wonderful things about your father, from watching ball games with him and Gary to spending hours typing for him for annual meetings and even wonderful visits in the Menno Home. He had such a positive attitude and an incredible memory. Hold on to all the great memories.
Thank you Clara. Oh man, didn’t he love playing baseball?
His memory really was something. Even nearer the end, he would ask me detailed questions about the things I’d told him the previous week.
I’m so glad that you and Gary were an enduring presence in his life. He was richer because of it.
Love your tribute that sums up a great dad. He was my uncle and my fondest memories of him were made on Sunday afternoons when your whole family came to visit. I grew up on a farm with many chores so very little play time. Your dad would come outside with us kids to play baseball or hide and seek while the grownups would sit inside. He made us laugh and — most of all — feel like we mattered. He got me my first job at Meeker’s Shake Mill. It only lasted 3 days, because I was determined to leave home and find my fortune in Vancouver, but it was the thought that counts! I loved him.
Oh Martha. What a lovely picture you’ve painted of Dad playing outside with you girls. I was too little to remember that, but now I have another story to treasure.
And yes, he had a gift for letting you know that you truly mattered.
I had no idea that he got you your first job. I am learning so many wonderful things about him. It is so clear to me that in the end, it’s the stories…those are the only gifts that we can hold in our hearts.
What a beautiful tribute to your father. You have such a gift with the written word. Even when death is expected and is even a blessing the pain of loss is still very real. We share your pain with you and fondly remember Hank. I learned many things from him both professionally as well as on a personal level. Hank lived what he believed and was an excellent example to many. He was much loved and is greatly missed. Another case of heavens gain.
Oh Stan…thank you for writing. It means so much that you knew him for so many years.
He had a big presence; rubber band gun and all.
Shared history is so comforting; isn’t it strange how long ago it all was, yet so very recent?
Thank you for taking the time to honour him.
What a beautiful tribute to a dear father. So sorry, Colleen for your sad loss. I know that words are utterly futile when you are locked in pain, so I will leave it at that.
I wish you strength, peace and love and I am thinking of you.
Catherine, thank you for the wishes for strength, peace and love. I am drawing strength from your words, peace from all the caring that is coming my way, and love…so much love. I feel so blessed.
That’s a lovely touching tribute to Hank, Colleen. We’re holding you and your family very close to our hearts today, everything else seems much less important.
Thank you John. It’s so comforting to feel everyone’s caring. I feel very rich in the midst of the loss.
Your Dad was a man who lived his beliefs. He was a rare gem. I always respected and admired him. You are so fortunate to have had him as a father.
Thanks so much Kathy. I love that you and I share so much history and that you remember him from our long-ago teen years 🙂
So sorry for your loss … He was a dear Uncle with a good sense of humor.
I enjoy reading your blog Colleen …
Thanks for reading and commenting Edna. I love that you also remember him for his incredible ability to find the funny side of things.
So sorry, Colleen. He was a great man, and will be missed. Your tributes to him have been fabulous. I’ve shared them all with my folks (Eileen & Walter). Enjoy your writing so much. Thank you.
I too am so sorry for your loss. Your dad blessed the lives of so many many individuals including my own and my family’s. A man of kindness, overwhelming generosity, integrity, just to name a few. He was a Godly man who walked the walk. He now is at peace. A job well done.
Thank you so much for taking the time to write Gayle. He really did live a large and generous life (one that also included a lot of rubber bands shot around the office 🙂 I know he would respond that he received much more than he ever gave.
He always admired your strength and competence with all you took on.
Oh Tamara (and Eileen & Walter), thank you for sharing this journey with me. I really appreciate that you knew and appreciated him too. It means so much.
Beautiful words Colleen. He truly did treat myself and my sister as family from day one. The world lost a great man today and I will always be grateful that he came into our lives.
Thinking of you.
Thank you Sarah. He was so good at keeping up with everyone’s lives and always being interested in whatever each of us was up to.
He was always grateful that he gained two more daughters…Wishing you could be here too…
..you made me cry…you made me envious…you made me realize why you are so amazing…
Sorry for your loss, Colleen…Heaven’s gain.
Ah Dee Dee. I make myself cry every time I look at another photo or think about something he said. It’s easier knowing you cried too. I think you’re right; Heaven gained on this transaction.
A beautiful tribute to a remarkable man and a life lived with faith, love and fortitude. Our heartfelt thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. XOXO
Michele, I like that; faith, love and fortitude. Those are definitely good words to sum up his life. I so appreciate your thoughts and prayers. Thank you.
How wonderful that you were able to be there with him, walking beside him to the doorstep beyond which you could not cross… heartbreaking and powerful, and yet so disorienting. Thank you for allowing us to be with you on your journey. Biggest of buddha hugs, thinking of you so much.
Oh Laurie, you made me cry all over again with that incredible visual of walking beside him to the doorstep beyond which I could not cross.
It feels like I have come to the very edge of a very large place that is equally empty and sad and simultaneously overfull with love and abundance.
It is the truest definition of a dichotomy, this yin/yang place of empty/full, grief/joy, this crazy space where I find myself laughing and smiling with memories and then completely bereft. What a strange land…travel of a totally different kind.
So sorry for your loss; please extend condolences to your other family members.
What a wonderful tribute you have written in memory of a man you loved dearly!
Thank you Ruby & Richard. I have passed on your words to our family. It’s so nice of you to have written.
So lovely! Both you and the tribute. Take care, my friend.
Jane, I feel like I can barely touch what I want to say about how he lived and who he was. I’m doing okay…I know that I have been so blessed with good friends and family. Thank you.
Colleen, what a lovely tribute. I am so sorry for this loss – you are in my heart.
Thank you Becca. I know you’ve gone through this too. It’s somehow easier knowing that so many have already travelled down this well-worn road.
Beautifully written. It sounds like you write the way your dad lived: honestly and with heart.
Thinking of you.
Doug
Doug, that means alot. I love your summation of writing/living honestly and with heart. I am going to put a Post-It note with that at the top of my screen to remind myself. Thank you.
Dear Colleen,
Thank you for sharing your memories. I can say with confidence that your father’s “signature humour and optimism” are alive and well; they live and thrive inside of you.
My deepest sympathy to you, and to all those who knew and loved him.
~ Sherryll
Sherryll, stories are lonely echoes when they’re not shared, so thank you for sharing and honouring my memories.
I’m so glad that some of my dad’s humour and optimism can be seen in me. That makes me happy.
So sorry for your loss. I haven’t seen your dad In many years Even though he was my uncle as well. I can so appreciate all your wonderful memories as recall many of these same experiences when I remember my father as well. Hugs to all it is never easy losing a father. Embrace your memories
‘Embrace your memories’ is such good advice, Paula. I am working hard at remembering as much as I can and sharing the stories in writing and in conversations. Thank you for being part of the process…
What a beautiful tribute. So sorry for your loss. Sounds like an incredible man. Sending big hugs your way.
Thanks Gwen. He really was a big man in so many ways. I appreciate your hugs. I’m glad I have an opportunity to share some of his stories with people who didn’t have a chance to meet him in person. It makes the sadness more bearable.