Today I am sharing the eulogy I gave at my Dad's funeral service in December. Many have asked how I got up in a full church and shared my thoughts on that day. By the grace of God, the prayers of my friends and family I could do this last tribute for my Dad.
Our Dad had nicknames for each of his kids, I was Grace because I have none, Kathi was Kase or Spacey Kasey, Ken was Beaver as in Leave it to Beaver and Jodi was The Baby. When Dad went to the ER in September Kathi went and Dad’s face lit up and he said, Kase,You Came! Once he was at home he always gave Jodi a hard time about forgetting him and not coming back. It wouldn’t happen and he knew it. Dad wanted to be at home with family and friends coming and going. I am grateful to my Mom, my family, Dad’s caretakers and to Hospice for making that possible for him. Thank you.
My Dad...
When I went to Dordt College my Dad’s Grandma was living in a care center in Worthington, Minnesota and he wanted me to visit her. So one weekend I went to stay with my Great Aunt Susie and she took me to visit my Great Grandma. Aunt Susie walked up to her bed and told Great Grandma who I was… "this is Tami, Dora’s granddaughter, Rich’s oldest daughter." She looked up and said, “ahhh Rich, he was the naughty one." Aunt Susie was mortified and I, well I knew she knew who my Dad was.
Dad grew up on the family farm on Bender Rd with his parents and brothers Ed, John and Darryl and his little sister, Nelda.
I’d like to share memories for my Uncle Ed.
In 1949, our dad bought a brand new, black, 49 Ford, with white walls, a V8 with overdrive. Dad took the family on a trip to Iowa, he was so proud of this car. But Rich had his own ideas about the car, and felt that the car was already his, even though he didn't have his driver's license yet. Everytime we couldn't find Rich, he'd be outside with the hood up trying figure out how he could soup this car up. One day he had taken the distributor apart, and as he was putting it back together, he cracked the cap. The car wouldn't start. Dad was hopping mad, because it was the only car we had... and he had a consistory meeting that night. So he made Rich walk to town, to get the part. The walk to town didn't take Rich as long as it should have, so I think some hitchhiking was involved. The story ended well for him. Rich fixed the car and dad was able to make it to the consistory meeting.
After Rich got his driver's license, Dad would let him take the car to school once in awhile. Until... one day he skipped school and he and his buddies (JimVanzwool and Ernie Zweegman) took two cars to the race track, one of those cars being his dad's prized possession, the 1949 Ford. The racing began... but came to an abrupt stop when Rich rolled his Dad's car onto it's side. When Rich drove it back on the yard that day, Dad came out of the barn and just looked at the car, staring... no words... and then, he just walked away... and went back to milking the cows. And that is how Rich got the car.
Another time, early one morning around 1:00 a.m. Rich was on his way home from visiting his girlfriend, Doris. A nice Oldsmobile, v8 came right up behind him, inviting him to a race. So, naturally, Rich raced the guy. Hitting speeds of over 90 mph and then came to find out the passenger in the other car was a cop. Rich was fined and his license was suspended for 6 months. Everybody felt sorry for Rich, because he truly was set up. Rich ended up having some time taken off of his 6 month suspension due to the neighborhood uproar of the injustice.
My Dad stayed out of trouble for the most part, not sure if by being good or not getting caught, as there are other stories about racing at the Lynden fairgrounds. His love of racing started young and he really did enjoy NASCAR. I got to watch one of his last races with him while Fred took Mom to church a few Sundays ago.
Dad loved a good fishing story, he had a few himself. Dad was waiting for the school bus one morning and he saw a salmon in the ditch, he ran to the barn, grabbed a pitchfork and brought dinner to Grandma.
My brother Ken had a lot of quality time with Dad in his boat, the SeaHaak, and while riding around with Dad on Saturday mornings. Dad and Ken would go the farm to visit Uncle Ed and Uncle Darryl to see if there was anything that needed fixing or they would stop in to see his cousin, Larry or go hunting for deer in the Fall. Quiet rides where Ken learned a lot just being with Dad. Later he picked up his grandson Max and they went on rides to the farm and to the auction barn for lunch. Later Max picked him up and until September his friend Ken and his brothers, Ed and Darryl picked him up for coffee at the Dutch Treat or lunch at the auction barn.
Dad was pretty adventurous, he liked to hunt and fish, and took us hiking and camping. We took one trip up north to Vande Hoef in Canada, Dad thought he might like to move his family there. We went with the De Boers and Korthuis families in campers. The first night, they ended up pulling up just a bit to get everyone off the train tracks, which was good as the trains roared by all night. The campers were shaking and swaying. The rains were constant and often torrential, the mosquitoes were huge and angry, the trip was long and many miles were on gravel roads. One day while at Burns Lake, Dad, Ken and Ray left the Moms and kids at camp and there was some trouble. We were told no casting off from the dock while the Dads are gone. Sadly, we didn’t listen and one of the kids caught a little Canadian girl in the top of her head. There was the walk of shame back to camp with her screaming and still on the line. Oooh the moms were mad! We all got sent to our campers and told just wait until the Dads get back! I remember Dad trying not to laugh when he came in the camper and Mom told him the story. I think the Dads had a really fun day. The Moms, not so much and their anger at us kids turned on the Dads when they got back. The whole trip sounds miserable as I tell you about it but it really was fun and memorable. Dad decided to stay in Lynden because he felt that his wife needed electricity and his kids needed to go to football games on Friday nights.
Dad referred to that trip and all others as glorious days.
Whether it was a week of glorious days or just a weekend, whether it was camping or going to Hawaii with Jay and Marge, it was glorious. But Dad always said the best part of going away is coming home.
Our kids have some great memories of camping with Grandpa and Grandma and going to hunting camp with the Belds, Stuits, DeBoers and other friends. There were dirt bikes, horses and a lot of babies at our hunting camps. And a lot of stories around the campfire. My husband, Fred was riding around with him one time at hunting camp and Dad told him if you see one down the embankment don’t tell me, because we don’t want to have to yard it out of there.
When we camped with the De Boers, our parents played pinochle in the evenings and if the there was laughing and joking it meant Dad and Ray were winning. If we came in the trailer and it was quiet and Dad asked... what do you kids need? We knew Mom and Eileen were winning, and we should just get out of there.
Uncle Ed shared how he and Aunt Twyla got married within a year of my folks and shortly after they started playing pinochle together. Uncle Ed said…”Rich was always a good pinochle player, and would always win. Every time I had a good hand and would think I was going to beat him... he'd bid me up and I'd lose it all... every time. This went on for over 50 years.”
Dad could fix just about everything and we often had car trouble on vacation. My sisters, brother and I are paranoid about car trouble yet today. Well, we’re going but we might not get there?
When Jodi got her VW bug, Dad told her to she should put some water in the radiator and then he watched out the window… VW’s don’t have radiators. When Kathi bought a car to take to Iowa Dad had Kathi and I buy snow chains and put them on. We bumbled around, got them on but only after we had them on did Dad explain that the chains went on the front tires because the car was front wheel drive. Kathi, Jodi and I always went to Dad with our car problems. Dad trumped our husbands on car repair. He taught Ken how to fix engines and later when the Parkinson’s kept him from doing it himself Dad gave instructions to others so they could do the work of his hands.
In July, Dad helped Fred pack the wheel bearings on our ‘57 Aloha. His hands were covered in grease. I asked him if it felt good and he said. Really. We remember our Dad’s hard working hands as calloused, stained with grease and that he often smelled of gas and diesel. Dad worked hard for his family and for our education. His church and the Christian school meant a lot to him.
My Dad had a quiet sense of humor,a quiet demeanor, and a kind and gentle spirit. My Mom said he never raised his voice. That would be true but along with the quiet comes the silent treatment. We wanted to please my Dad so we tried to stay out of trouble. All my Mom had to say was, I don’t think Dad will like that… Which she continued to tell us until last week.
We were so blessed my our parent’s marriage, the love Dad had for Mom. And on his last day he told us, “ take care of mother.”
Even in his death we were blessed by Dad, we all came, and we all got to say goodbye. He asked, where are my grandsons? And so we called the kids in to say good bye. He told me Thanksgiving was beautiful.
I asked him if it was too loud to have everyone there on Friday and he said that he was glad.
We listened to music and I prayed with Dad on Friday and thanked God for my Dad and told Jesus that Dad was ready to be with Him. We had tears and a lot of laughs as we said our farewells.
So he spent his last day just the way he liked all of his days, with his wife, his kids, his in laws, his grand kids, and his brothers and then he went to his heavenly Father to be with the family of God.
What a guy.
I felt as though I had been going on long enough at this point so I didn't share this last bit at the funeral service but it was written and meant to be shared.
I want read something from the book My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers.
"There is only one relationship that really matters, and that is your personal relationship to your personal Redeemer and Lord. If you maintain that at all costs, letting everything else go, God will fulfill His purpose through your life. One individual life may be of priceless value to God's purposes, and yours may be that life." --Oswald Chambers, from My Utmost for His Highest
I think my Dad would want everyone here to know that and live their lives with God's purpose too.
