Funeral Services Today

I woke early (4:30 am) and had a hard time going back to sleep. I finally did and then didn't wake up till about 8 am. Katt was already up.

After breakfast, I got ready for the funeral. I told my sister-in-law I would be there at 10:30 to help out with the set up. I arrived on time and both my brother and sister-in-law was there. They were getting the place set up, and I was able to help (a little). Patrick worked on his speech and I also worked on mine. They got the video to make sure it worked. I watched it and cried. They had a "life" video of dad at the end. It had him saying we all have to die sometime. I cried even more. That's what he told me several times over the years.

Some of the quilters started showing up first. We had everything ready shortly after. The guest book was out and everyone signed in as they came in. I greeted a few and then got side tracked. We had to add a few more seats as it was filling up fast. Dad had a lot of his co-workers (from the State) show up. It was nice to see people I haven't seen in years.

The service was good. I was the first one up there. It took me a little bit to get started but once I got going with my speech, it went pretty good. Then my younger brother was up there. He did an awesome job telling everyone about dad's career. Then my older brother was up there with virus's. It was really good. It went so good. Then they showed everyone the video and that was a tear jerker.

Potluck was after. I kept getting tagged by everyone that knew me. I even got tagged by people I didn't know. I was so glad to see the McCoy's there. He worked under my dad in Germany. She was a dear friend that stayed with us while the men were on swing shift. We'd walk her back home when she left late at night.

We had my sister-in-law take some photos of us. This is Phil, Katt, Patrick and myself. 

This one is my mother, Phil, Katt, Patrick and myself. 

It was an honor to speak for my father. There is a hole in my life now. It will be hard get used to. 

This was my speech today:

Let me tell you a little bit about my dad. My father was a quiet man when we were children. We’d ask him questions and it depended on what mood he was in as to what kind of answer we would get. He loved to joke around.

The first time we lived in Maryland, he worked at a gas station to make extra money for the family. Between jobs, he would drive us around to see the country side. He loved to travel. We had our “Sunday drives” even while in High School. On our trips, he always had his Pentax camera and would be constantly taking pictures of everything. He gave me my love for photography, which I have passed down to my own children.

My dad was always there for me and my brothers.  When my first grade teacher told my parents I was behind on reading, dad would sit down with me every night and read with me. He would read the story first, putting expressions and humor in the story. Then he would have me read it back to him. I loved to hear him read. Later on, when we moved to Alaska, we found out I had dyslexia. Mom did all the work and planning to help me, but it was dad who took me to sessions at the University of Alaska to learn how to read and write correctly. We’d pull the “Highlights” magazine out and work the puzzles and games that were in the book. We had contests to see who could find the missing pieces the fastest. He also knew I couldn’t sit still, so he would find games and things for me to do, like memorizing important phone numbers or social security numbers, while I waited. He would continue to challenge me throughout life.

As the years went on, we would talk about everything and anything. We’d take walks and talk about how he was doing and even about the weather. He loved looking at the weather reports and checking his thermometer. We bought him many thermometers over the years. When one died, and he’d talk about getting one, and when he never got one for himself, we pick one up for him. We even had an ongoing game where if it was over 75 degrees he would ask me what the temperature was, fully knowing I didn’t want to know because it only made me feel hotter.

He loved to hear about his family. I would tell him what I found on his family tree, and we would talk about the things he remembered. We often talked about going back to NY to see where the family came from, but never made it. When I told him his grandmother had a child before she married granddad, he laughed and said that explained so much.

Dad’s passion was gardening. We had a garden everywhere we lived. The only place he didn’t have one was Germany. He missed not being able to garden when we were there. Dad would often have a salt shaker in his pocket and when the tomatoes were ripe, he’d pick them off the vine, salt them, and then take a bite. He loved his tomatoes fresh off the vine. He’d even offer us a bite of whatever was in the garden. Dad loved his beans with bacon and would make the dish every year. He’d make enough to feed an army, and it never went to waste.

Through the years, dad and mom would often entertain others. If anyone was without family on the holidays, he would invite them to join us. They always had an open door for all their military friends. Dad would say “there is no rank at our house.” He loved to cook for a crowd and never missed an opportunity to do so.

The family would often play card games. I’m going to miss those card games because dad loved to take his dear sweet time. We’d all be telling him to get moving and he’d be looking at his cards, smile and say, “I’m waiting for the cards to change.” Mom would always respond back with a large sigh and saying “Myron” in a loving but “get your butt moving” kind of way. Then there were the times when he would go to the bathroom, only to be found in front of the TV watching the Mariner’s game. We’d get after him, and he would always say, “I was just looking for the score.” There wasn’t a board game or card game that dad or mom didn’t know how to play. We’d spend hours as children playing games at the table. Jokes would fly and we all seemed to be the best of friends when we played.

Recently, Dad would come and watch my husband and I bowl twice a week. When he saw I was having a poor game, he would try to coach me and help me recover. A lot of the time, his advice worked. Other times, I really didn’t want to hear it. He was our team’s cheerleader, but wasn’t afraid to cheer for the other teams. Of course, none of this was possible until he had a cup of coffee in his hand. As all of you know, he wouldn’t do anything without his coffee.

Dad would call me on Tuesday’s when mom was at quilting to see what I was up to. Every time he came over he would ask what I was working on. He would light up when I showed him. So, when I was appliqueing an Eagle for myself, he would ask me every step of the way how it was going.  I decided at that time, it was going to be in his Quilts of Valor quilt. He beamed when the quilt was presented to him. He loved it so much he wanted to hang it in the house.  Dad’s name and years in the military are printed on the quilt. Every time he thought about it, he would thank me again for doing that for him. He wanted a Quilt of Valor, and I was thrilled to be able to get him one.

Over the years, dad started talking more, especially about his career. We’d go out to eat and he’d talk all the way down to Longview about whatever was on his mind. It was as if he loved to talk. This man, who spoke so little when we were younger, started talking more. I asked him to write a book about his life. He said he was thinking about it, but didn’t know how to start. Even in December when I asked him if he started, he said no, he still couldn’t figure out how to start it.

I could write a book about my dad. There is so much I want to tell you about him, but there isn’t enough time or paper to be able to tell you everything. He was a gentle man that rarely ever got mad. If he did, mom was the only one who really saw that side of him. He was always there for us kids. He would be there with a hug when he felt you needed it. And trust me, I needed it often.  

I have no regrets. I said and asked what I needed to. Dad knew how I felt and he knew his death would be hard for me. He tried to tell me over the last couple years his end was coming and I needed to be okay with it. I’m thankful for the last 20 years of being so close to him. We had good times together and I love him dearly. No regrets, just those wishes of – I wish I had one more hug. I wish I could play one more game with him. If only we had one more day but I know that one more day still wouldn’t be enough.

So, dad, I’m trying to be strong like you wanted. Just know you will be in my heart and mind each and every day till my day comes to see you again. I love you!

Happy Stitching/Happy Quilting!