My Hero

I cannot write enough words to sum up my Dad. I had both the honor and horror of writing his obituary and eulogy. Below is what I read at his wake. He is all this and more. I will spend the rest of my life missing him and honoring his legacy. 

Dad was always putting lotto tickets in our Christmas stockings but we truly hit the jackpot with him. I’ve always been keenly aware how incredibly lucky to have the family I do. Many things had to happen for it to come to be and I have never taken that for granted. Dad met Mom after losing his first wife, Jane, and he came with two young children, my brother and sister. They fell in love fast and married even faster. There was not a day after that where he did not show his love for Mom or us kids.  

I joke that dad's love language was Windex. Anytime he would come to visit, I'd find new bottles around the house even though I hadn’t finished any of the bottles from his last visit. That's how dad was, short on words but big on action. He showed his love by doing things like making sure my mom always had her yogurt (she calls him her supply sgt), replacing my air filter, ensuring my brother had enough Christmas lights on his tree or that my sister's car was properly washed and waxed.

He did thousands of thoughtful things for all of us and worked incredibly hard to provide our family with a beautiful life. Our home in Sayville was always surrounded by gorgeous flowers and full of love and laughter. It was this strong foundation that allowed me, my brother and sister to spread our wings and fly. His example as a role model has been a guiding light as we’ve made our way in the world.

Dad’s service in the United States Air Force is a source of pride for all of us. He drove a truck in Florida, transporting necessary supplies like toilet paper. He joked that “if you can’t wipe it, you gotta wear it.” That was typical of dad, incredibly humble and totally hilarious. His punchlines were legendary. And so was his mustache. Dad was quietly brilliant, like a human encyclopedia, especially on the Civil War. His extensive knowledge helped me pass a college course in the subject.

He was also extremely patient. He would spend hours building sand forts to protect us from the rising tide. He'd spend days putting together the Christmas Village every year. He made sure the front and back yard were equally decked with lights and we lovingly called him Mr. Christmas. Dad made the holidays magic.

Dad was always magic to his grandkids who lovingly called him PopPop. My nieces and nephews lit up when he walked into the room and despite all his ailments he would get on the floor to play or crawl through caves together. PopPop became a kid again with them.

Dad was a gentle giant. His loyal dog George wanted nothing more than to be his shadow. Dad had the biggest heart and his hugs said more than words ever could and packed more warmth than the Florida sunshine. I can attest to that. For his 70th birthday I gave him the gift of trekking through DC to watch me run a marathon. Lucky him, but he did it with a smile. That morning he gave me the sweetest hug that powered me through the hardest of miles. Dad's love made me brave.

Dad was brave. He cared deeply, lived humbly and leaves a legacy of love. We are so grateful for the countless memories although there will never be enough. Dad will forever be remembered as the kind, thoughtful, patient and hilarious man he was.

Loved beyond measure, missed beyond words. Dad, you will always be our hero and the best guy I ever knew.