REMEMBERING MY MOM AND DAD
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My parents are both gone now, but never forgotten. They left a legacy of love and commitment behind, by passing on a strong faith in God and by example in a marriage that lasted 42 years before my father's death in 1986. My younger sister wrote both eulogies for their memorial services and I wanted to share them here.
For my Dad (1919-1986)
Husband, father, Sarah's "handsome, skinny, grampa." These were just a few of the things that Dad was to his family.
Dad was a very special person, with a great capacity to give of himself, care and always be there for those in need. If I had to choose one word to describe Dad, it would be generous. He always had a supply of Coke on hand for his number three son-in-law, was always sending home care packages of canned food, peanut butter and toilet paper (we once counted over 40 packages of toilet paper stored under his bed). He made sure that our needs were met. I believe one of his greatest joys in life was giving to those he loved.
I have been thinking a lot about Dad over the last few days and remembering special times over the years. It is hard to try to represent a lifetime of memories in a few paragraphs, but I would like to share some of those memories with you.
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As a small child I remember sitting in his lap and listening to him sing to me in his monotone voice. Sometimes he would even play the one tune that he knew on the piano using his fist. Our Sunday afternoons usually consisted of drives when everyone had to pile in the car and go look at the open houses. Then later that evening we would watch "Bonanza" and eat popcorn. He would work on his crossword puzzle and then fall asleep in his chair and we'd listen to him snore for hours.
Dad had to go through a lot of struggles in his life. I remember spending many long hours sitting by him while he was in a hospital bed. It would be at those times that I would see a much more tender side of him. Dad would want to hold my hand and make sure that I knew how very important I was to him.
I remember having a long talk with Dad on one occasion and he told me that ever since I was born, he had been praying for the person I would someday marry. It meant so much to me. And I remember the summer that I was away in Colorado and became so homesick that I called home every evening for almost a month--on his credit card number. |
My fondest memories of Dad have been from the last couple of years. Whenever I saw him and was ready to leave, he would take my hand and say, "You know Daddy loves you," and I knew that he did.
This last week was so special for Dad. He had his whole family together on Thanksgiving and we heard his last prayer thanking God for bringingus all together. He had so looked forward to this time. On Friday he was able to take two of his sons-in-law out to lunch, then on Saturday he got to see Seattle Pacific win their basketball game.
My last memory of Dad is Sunday as I was standing by another hospital bed. This time he couldn't hold my hand anymore, but I could hear him say, as he had so many times over the last few years. "You know Daddy loves you." I am so thankful that Dad doesn't have to hurt anymore, that he was able to see his three daughters marry very special men, and that some day we will all be together again where there is no more pain and sorrow, only joy.
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When my dad died about 13 years ago, I sat down and had no problem writing out a beautiful tribute to his life. I think it was so easy because I had prepared for this death. We had known for several years that someday he just wouldn't be able to go on any more.
But Mom, well, she was supposed to go on forever. At least that is how she lived her life. She had planned on going to Leavenworth this August with a friend. She figured she would be feeling great by then and it would be something she would have to look forward to doing. She planned to come out to Minnesota this fall and spend time with our family and with the many friends she had made out there since we moved thre about 2 years ago. We found an afghan half done--still on the knitting needles, dolls she was makijng for children in various stages of completion. She had just recently bought a new car, she had lots of plans for that doll house of hers, and so many things she still wanted to learn and do.
Mom was supposed to go on forever, and she did live her life like that, but she also lived her life--ready and prepared to live forever. Mom loved God. The verses you hear today, the songs that you sing were all picked out by her. She believed the promises that God had made to her as a small child and through her life. The Word of God, the Bible, gave her strength on a daily basis. The time she spent with God through prayer gave her the ability to love others in so many ways. |
I came out here two weeks ago to help my Mom so that she could go home from the hospital. And I was so privileged to be with her when she did just that. She went home.
As we were sitting in the living room yesterday, we noticed the devotional that she read on a daily basis. It was opened to the last page that she would have read before she went into the hospital. The verse for February 25th read: "Lord, make me to know how my end, and what is the measure of my days, that I may know how frail I am. Psalm 39:4" the page ended with the thought, "It's not how long you live that counts, but how well you live."
Even though she will be missed terribly, I would invite you to celebrate the life of Phyllis. I rejoice that she is now home, standing at the throne of God.
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Hold my hand, Lord,
Hold my hand, Lord,
Hold my hand, Lord,
September 10, 1996 Donna's Home Page |
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