<>  Our Dad

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This last week Sandy and I have had the tragic experience of telling everyone of my dad's death.  Now I just wanted to take a few minutes to have the honor of telling you a bit about his life. 

Everyone in this room knows my dad was generous, loyal, caring, loving, and intelligent.  He had a great sense of humor and he had integrity.   My dad was a friend to everyone from the smallest child to someone he arrested.  He treated everybody like a person. 

There are so many stories of him I would like to share.  I fear if I shared them all we would be here forever.  I have selected only a couple that I hope will help paint the picture of what a wonderful man and a true character he was. 

One day when I was a kid, my family was out for a walk.  Something we did on countless evenings.  We were downtown.  We stopped to speak to a gentleman.  I don't know his name and to tell you the truth I ignored the conversation for the most part as it was adult stuff.  At the end of the conversation the gentleman looked down at me and he said

“Now you listen to your father he is a good and smart man”

To which I replied “Yes sir”

 Then the man left and my mom turned to my dad and asked who the man was.  My dad turned with us to keep walking and non chalantly said “oh I arrested him last week” and with that we went on with the rest of our walk.

When we lived in Prescott, we had a cat.  His name was Boots. When dad would come home in the evening for his lunch he would sit in the rocking chair that had a foot stool that sat in front of it.  The stool was made of wood and had a cushion on it.  Boots would ALWAYS get up on the stool in front of dad with his back toward dad.  And dad would give the stool a quick kick from underneath with his steel toed boots and make the cat jump.  And this was not once or twice an evening.  This was all through Dad’s lunch.  Dad would give Boots just enough time to get comfy and think he was safe and then TOK!!  And Boots would be all stiff with his ears back again.  Boots was truly dad’s cat though, cause Boots would retaliate.  That cat would sit down in front of dad, preferably if we had company and start licking himself.  Boots would have his foot pointed perfectly at the ceiling and he would lick.  That always had dad getting up and calling the cat a few names while pushing him out of the room.  It was the perfect relationship.

My dad was always building stuff.  He had a workshop downstairs that we were not allowed in unless he was there.  But when he was there I would be there too.  I can remember picking up scrap pieces of wood and hammering them together to make whatever my little mind thought it was.  Mostly it was a boat.  I had a conversation with dad about those times a couple years ago.  I told him the story and he laughed and said I would always use his last nail to make those things and that later when he needed a nail he would have to tear apart what I had built and forgotten about, to get the nails he needed.

 But never in the times I built stuff did he tell me no there were not enough nails to build my creations.

One day when Sandy and I were still young.  We were eating lunch at the table.  My dad just happened to be washing dishes or doing something at the sink.  As my sister sat there eating her lunch my dad turned and pretended to sneeze and shot water sprinkles from his hands down her neck.  She was thoroughly disgusted and thus began a tradition of grossing out each new generation that comes along.  Sandy still blinked or cringed whenever dad was at the kitchen sink to this day. 

My sister read this for me to help make sure we captured our true dad.  She reminded me that dad had matured a bit later on.  That he was not always a prankster.  When Sandy and I were children the unwritten rule in our house was DO NOT MESS WITH THE UNIFORM!!!  Anyone who knew dad when he was in uniform knew it shined.  If we had to move his hat to find something we HAD to pick it up from the top and not the brim.  Inevitably we would forget and leave the dreaded fingerprints on the shiny brim.  When dad was on duty we were not to get too close to the uniform for long periods of time, lest we mess it up.  My sister was living in Houston when the first grandchild Taylor, was born.  They were visiting around Christmas and dad had come home one day in his uniform.  Dad was holding Taylor and Taylor sneezed.  Sandy and I braced for the explosion that SHOULD have come.  But to our eternal amazement my dad laughed and said he would just wait until it dried and flick off the chunks.  That was when we knew dad had matured and was mellowing.

Every time I walk into Sobey’s I find myself looking up from the shelves to see if I’ll meet my dad in there.  It was a common occurrence and one I took for granted.  But now that I am looking, and knowing I will not see him in the grocery store I remember the feeling every time we saw our dad.  Safe.  My sister and I were always safe when dad was there.  My dad stood between us and true harm like a warrior.  He would hate that comparison but it describes him well. 

There will be so many things he will be remembered for.  I leave it to all of you to decide how you will remember him.  Whether it is a father, a friend, a husband, an acquaintance or even a hero his beauty is timeless. 

I invite all of you to come back to the reception after and share with us your memories and stories of my dad.

Thank you