My mom wanted sons. She got three daughters. My dad was thrilled. "Why do we need boys? We're not farmers."
(I'm in the checkered skirt rockin' a cardigan.)
I'm me because of him... the eulogy I wrote...
Dad was a fixer. He was a helper. He was a man with no pretense or ulterior motives. He simply loved people. And, that’s why so many people were drawn to him. Before the first stroke, he showed his love to me by offering to fix things. If he found out I needed a new screen for my patio, to my chagrin, he’d offer to drive 4 hours to my home in Dallas to fix it. I was always happy to see mom and dad on those visits, but my dad was like MacGyver… he could fix anything, but it wasn’t always pretty.
It was classic dad to perfectly install a silver window screen on my house when all my other window screens were black. He was known to perfectly install a gold bathroom fixture in a room full of bronze fixtures. He was very functional in that way. If I shared my concerns with mom about dad’s impending visits as a handyman, mom would ask me to let him do the work, saying it was daddy’s way of showing love and I could always change it later.
We’ll never forget the time dad worked tirelessly to design and build a wooden bench swing. It was BEAUTIFUL! We were thrilled and all very impressed. Until a couple of us sitting side by side, swung a little too hard and fell face forward.
Looking back, we can only smile.
It was characteristic of dad to stop on the freeway to help someone in need, give rides to strangers, help put up shelves for a neighbor, help the baggers at the grocery stores do their job at the checkout stand. The list goes on and on. Immediately after the devastating earthquakes in Taiwan, he ran to help in any way he could, no doubt making friends along the way.
In Hebrews 13:2, we are told, “Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it.” I’ve often wondered how many angels my dad has encountered through the years because of his heart for people and his small acts of kindness.
Although he eventually got stronger after his first stroke, he was initially confined to a wheelchair with only one good arm. But, that arm would straighten out our collars, and pick lint off our clothes. Mom said it was dad’s small way of showing love. Helen said it was because he was a perfectionist. ... mixing gold with bronze fixtures?
Eventually, dad started fixing things again. We fondly remember dad supported by a cane and with limited speech “overseeing and directing” mom as they tinkered under the hood of their car. And another time when with only the use of one arm, dad tried to fix a leaky toilet my sister's house, breaking the seat cover in the process as it came crashing down.
Looking back, we can only smile.
After the last stroke, dad was left speechless and immobile with only the ability to slightly move his head. I know this must have devastated him. He lost all ability to communicate. It now became our turn to demonstrate our love for dad by doing things for him. During the last few months, we were given a chance to exercise our ability to show love to dad through kindness and acts of service. God has a great way of bringing things around full circle to show us what we need to know.
We miss dad terribly, at times the pain is more than we can bear, but we know that even though he can see us, he’s not capable of missing us, because there’s no sorrow in heaven, only joy beyond imagination.
As I look around the room, it’s clear to see that dad left a legacy of love and hope that will forever live on through his family and friends. Thank you for everyone’s amazing love and support.
Looking back, dad can only smile.
Now for a seriously hilarious belly laugh...
Special shout outs to my two new SteemianBuds @georgemercado and @imrob who by their recent postings influenced me to write about my dad. Go check them out.