A letter to my Dad

I wrote this as a presentation “letter to my Dad” during his memorial. Dad was dedicated to the community, his family, and everyone in between. He was a person that could change the way you feel, whether that was sad, confused, or upset. Such a wise person helps make you see the real perspective of the situation. And, despite passing away early, he has left so many stories and a legacy that will forever live on! (I literally could tell a million stories—don’t worry, I’ll plug more in later lol)

To my dad

I’m the daughter of a normal guy that loved simplicity. If you knew him well, you know he was not a guy for the spotlight. He was quiet and reserved…ready to hit you with his whit when you least expect it. Dad was the guy you just thought was normal, then turned around and realized…wait, that was hilarious. Knowing his audience at all times, he knew when to make the punch-line punch. He was wise, sincere, and loved truly.

the gloves

I remember a time in my early 20s, when I was a waitress and going to school. I was recently married and pregnant with my first child. We didn’t have much but the basics back then. I started to teach myself how to sew. I made crib sheets, a pleated crib skirt, blankets, and more (don’t think anyone uses pleated crib skirts anymore, ugh). Well, it was getting close to my Dad’s birthday and I knew I wasn’t going to have money to buy him a gift, much less lunch, so I decided to make him oven gloves with some of my left over material. I thought “this will be an easy one to sew!” Well, if you know how it works, you usually sew the item inside out, then flip it out to get the final product. Producing these at the 11th hour, as usual, I flip them out to find, “yikes, they are quite short.” And thought, “he’ll love them anyway.”

So we meet for lunch, I hand him his gift. He pulls them out, smiles, then chuckles, “wow thank you. My hands will never be hot again….or partial of my hand.” He puts the oven gloves on his hands, covering only half his palms, as he proceeds to mime taking food out and putting it back in with gloved fingers. At this point, as he is miming his food preparation with half-gloved hands, I swiftly realize… he doesn’t cook. He’s probably never turned his oven on before. Not only did I just give him half-handed oven gloves but I also gave oven gloves to someone that will never use them. But, as usual we had a great laugh…and then he paid the bill that I couldn’t pay 😵‍💫.

The procedures

The past couple months have been a busy time for us. Dad had a couple of procedures, and MaryAnn and I were looking after him. One of the first procedures was a urethral endoscopy.

I asked for some information from him, and he reciprocated the information I needed. Although, he purposefully did not want to know too much as he quote was, “not trying to focus too much on it.” I knew he was talking about —what he called, his “personality”. No man out there likes this “personality” messed with. No scopes, no catheters, no medication, no nothin’! I chuckled and agreed, and said, “sometimes we just need the doctors to do what they know best.”

When asking if they would sedate him, his response was, “hummmm….unsure if the doctor will hit my head with a wooden mallet or have me bite on a leather strap during the procedure.” I thought that was a fair point with several good options 😆👀. (They did sedate lol, and there were NOT any leather straps to bite on) Luckily, all went well and he was able to go home both times he had to do the procedure.

car trouble

Dad was very conservative about every penny, very frugal. It’s really a great quality. Always taught me to be grateful for simplicity, the simple things in life—not make a fuss about what you dont have in life as opposed to what you do have.

Recently, Dad decided that his car was requiring too much work. It wasn’t worth it. The car was getting older and it would need some attention. The kind of attention only a mechanic would appreciate….so as to one of many of my husband’s wonderful attributes. He decided to fix it all up, shiny and in great condition, he gave it my oldest daughter, Makena. It was time for her to need a car and he was so very proud of all the incredible things she’s done, worked so hard for, and accomplished. He was so excited to give it to her. He showed her around and gave her the keys. She thanked him and bounced off like she won the lottery.

He talked to me again about the other maintenance things Kevin will be looking out for. After a long discussion that I should have been taking notes, he ended with an epilogue of, “boy, I wish I could marry Kevin. He’s so talented. He can fix anything.” I chuckled and continued to chuckle, cause I knew …he might be a bit serious. The man loved to save money.

What a good man

Dad was the guy everyone could lean on. You could go to him about anything. He was always full of wisdom, truths, and bit’s of comedy to not only make you feel comfortable about what you were worried about, but be able to laugh about it as well. I always aim to be a little more like Dad. Calm, collected, looking at the bright side, and always ready with that unsuspecting quick yet dry whit.

We will truly miss the dinners, the birthdays, the Christmas’ and more with him and GrammyAnn. But, I know his pain is at ease, he’ll never have to be short of breath, and he’ll never have to suffer another urethral endoscopy ever again.

Love you forever Daddio.

your buddy (lisa)

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