Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Saying goodbye to my dad

On the morning of Monday, May 19th my dad quietly slipped away.  He had suffered a minor stroke about ten days earlier and was improving rapidly.  His death came as a bit of a surprise.
On Tuesday I left for Abbotsford to be with my step-mom and help plan the funeral.  The next day my youngest sister and her husband flew in as well.  By the next day my other two sisters arrived as well as numerous grandchildren, great grandchildren, nephews, etc.
As we went through dad's paperwork one thing that we noted was that dad wanted me to do the eulogy / tribute.  I wasn't really looking forward to it but at the same time I wanted to honour his wishes.  I'll include a copy of my remarks here . . . 

"It's a difficult thing to sum up the life of a man in a few sentences.  There is much in the heart of a person and in the way in which that heart reveals itself in the words and actions of a given day.
Our dad loved to be involved with people, in both formal and informal ways.
Formally, he was involved in his local church, most recently in the missions committee of this church.  Missions was very much on dad's heart.  He was involved personally, from taking a number of short term mission trips to prayer committees, praying for the needs of mission fields around the world.  Dad was also involved in M2W2, a ministry of building friendships with local prisoners.  He also enjoyed being a part of the Abbotsford Men's Choir.  He served with the Gideons.  I think you get the idea.  Dad loved to be involved with people; joining together with others in both the church and in the community.
Informally, Dad was involved with us as his family.  And for this the dynamics change considerably.  For children looking to their dad it's a different relationship--it's made up of the small things rather than the big things of his formal involvements.
I have here a flashlight.  When we were little, it was my dad's practice once the lights were off and everyone was in bed to take this flashlight and walk through the house to check that the house was secure and so were we.  When we see this flashlight it reminds us of how dad sought to look after us.
Dad was one of those men who loved the church--if the doors were open he was there.  When we moved to Coquitlam we continued to attend church in Vancouver.  I remember coming home from the Sunday Evening Service with all of us kids sound asleep--or as we got a bit older--pretending to be sound asleep and dad would carry us one by one up to our rooms.
Dad loved the outdoors.  We recall many campouts, hikes up Black Tusk, canoe trips, and walks in parks.  We all came to love the creation that God has made--it's beauty and wonder--and to feel the responsibility to take good care of it.
Once we grew up and were on our own, dad enjoyed coming to our places and helping us with projects.  He's helped build suites and fences, painted inside and out, fixed things that were broken and helped out in the yard.  He was there to help.
Dad liked bells, he liked cuckoo clocks, he liked stories of God's victories around the world, he liked good food and enjoyed washing dishes, he loved his family both immediate and extended, he liked Chryslers, he did not like Fords, he liked to do puzzles, he liked simple things, he liked relating current events to biblical prophecy, he liked pie, he liked to travel, he liked to read, he did not like TV.
Near the end of dad's life he was getting tired.  He had struggled with fairly severe health issues for the last twelve years and was tired of the hospital, the medications and the surgeries.  I think other than leaving his family behind, he was glad at the thought of being home with his Lord where there is no more death or mourning or crying or pain."
One of the good things about funerals is the impact they have on the rest of us who remain.  We are reminded once again of the importance of family, of belonging, of having people in our lives who love us, who hold us accountable and are there in times of need.  Funerals also help us to evaluate what is truly important to us.  Often, we find that what means the most to us is not the things that we tend to spend a lot of time, energy, worry and money on.
Well, my dad is gone.  I'm grateful that he no longer has to suffer.  I'm sad for my step-mom who is feeling his absence most acutely.  I'm glad for the years dad was with us.  I'm looking forward to seeing him again . . . the hope of all believers in Jesus.

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