When Pa first asked me to present a eulogy in his honor, I thought he was absolutely crazy. He wasn’t going to die.
I am going to try my absolute best to get through this without turning into a puddle of tears and making a complete idiot of myself. But, then again, Pa always embraced all aspects of my personality including my complete idiocy, so, my guess is, that he will be okay with me however this turns out.
On April 8, 2015, I lost my best friend to a long battle with multiple forms of cancer. Pa, as I called him, was a wonderfully good and kind man with an, often hidden, intellect. Pa, you were the best grandpa and an incredible friend. Always more than willing to do whatever it took to keep, not only me, but everyone else moving along. He left behind a younger brother, a loving wife, two children, two grandchildren, and many friends.
Now, I cannot say for certain what Pa would have thought about this or that, or would have done in such and such a situation, but I can say for certain what he did with the life he was given. And, I can be pretty sure about the lessons he was teaching us.
I can tell you that this is a celebration of his life. Let us celebrate the 69 remarkable years he spent with us.
Let us be proud that Pa has left us with open hearts, hundreds of peers, and thousands of wonderful memories.
There’s a quote that states, ¨While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet [him] beyond the veil.¨ I believe this to hold the utmost of truth, if only because I can speak for his life while here on Earth.
Over the past years, Pa and I spent a great deal of time together. Today, however, I find myself feeling as if it was not enough. I loved being with Pa whether we were talking, sitting quietly, on a 12-hour road trip, sharing silence in the ICU, laughing at each other, watching a home video, or talking about the most dreaded sport, but his favorite, golf. As all of you here, I only want for more time with him. But, as always, Pa is going to make me wait.
You have heard many, many positive words today that describe Pa. I will use many of the same ones. That in itself will be no coincidence. Because what you saw in him was what you got: honesty, integrity, determination, love, strength, humor, compassion, and even a little sarcasm.
Never would I have imagined I would find myself standing in a room full of people, heartbroken, reflecting on the life of the greatest friend I’ve ever had.
One of the things that I really loved about Pa, was that he took the time to listen and learn from those around him. Although rather steadfast in his beliefs, he was never afraid to concede a point if he thought you had made yours. He would always acknowledge that different people with different experiences, could respectfully hold different viewpoints.
He believed in the axiom that a good listener made a good conversationalist.
Pa didn’t do things by half.
A short while ago, we were planting flowers in the yard. He was completely exhausted and I knew his bones were hurting. Looking back, it is now clear that the cancer was taking its toll on his fragile body. And, although he told me how he was feeling, he refused to complain or stop. That was Pa. I can honestly tell you all that although he did have some down times (yes, he was human), he never felt sorry for himself or asked why he was being put through such an ordeal.
On the contrary, he once told me that if he had his life to live all over again he would not change a thing, including the cancer. I was startled by this comment and asked why. Pa said that his illness had forced him to face up to some parts of his character he was not comfortable with, deal with them, and in the process become a better son, brother, husband, father, and friend. Pa was a searcher and in the depths of a terminal illness, he sought and found that which eludes most of us, himself.
When we went on the summer trip to New York Pa had begun to face some serious challenges, and felt that if he was ever going to take this trip it had to be at that time. Although Pa was well aware that Shelly knew the entire state like the back of her hand, in typical fashion, he still insisted on educating himself about all things NYC before we left.
Upon arrival, he insisted that he find out how to get to where we were going on his own, despite the many protestations from Shelly, having already known how to get there without the map or book. It was typically Pa that always learned how to take care of himself in every situation. He strived to be independent, much to Nan’s disapproval.
In one instance, we were heading to Times Square and the traffic was ridiculously heavy. The taxi driver tried every which way to get us to our destination and Pa grew more and more frustrated. Both our history and my experiences had taught me to remain quiet, despite my giggles, as Pa got out the map, studied it, and started to tell the taxi driver where to go. Evidently, we made it to our destination.
The next day, we took a ferry to the Statue of Liberty. The story is long and I won’t bore you with it except to say that Pa had once again been doing homework and in between running away from the old men who followed us for 10 miles hawking key chains and food, he informed me with an abundance of information detailing the history of the landmark and our country. That man could really talk, maybe that’s where I get it. My fondest memory, though, is when nothing was said at all and it was just Pa, me, and New York.
Our memories are forever etched in my mind. For that, I am eternally thankful. His struggle is finally over and may he rest easy knowing he led an honest life, true to himself and all who love him. Heaven by definition, a "perfect" place, just got a little better.
If it is indeed true that a man can be judged by those with whom he surrounds himself, then in his death, Pa’s life can be viewed as a magnificent triumph.
And so, my greatest friend, we will all hold you strong in our hearts until we can hold you, once again, in our embrace.
Through your immense faith, and through you, we have learned to adapt to the circumstances in life and will cultivate the strength it takes to move forward while missing you.
That being said, I cannot wait to see you later.
Goodnight, Pa. Sweetest of dreams.
