A year ago we gathered together to celebrate my father's life. I wanted to share the letter that I prepared and the many memories that I had with my dad.
Dear Dad,
I remember July 13th, I had just gotten my ganglion cyst, Jay Leno, removed from my wrist and I went to dinner at Pattie’s house with you and Jess so that we could meet Liz. We stopped at Safeway on the way to dinner because you were coughing so hard. You bought some Robtussin and drank it straight from the bottle. If only that was the end of your cough.
I remember that same night at dinner. You cut my food for me because my wrist was in a cast. That was the last time that I saw you before you went to the hospital. You will always be my father, cutting my food even at age 20.
I remember your laugh, hearty and full, a true belly laugh. I remember your smile and how it stretched from ear to ear. I miss your scratchy mustache and how when you were feeling especially adventurous you would grow at your whole beard.
I remember how when we were little you would make it a point to embarrass me in front of my friends. I was embarrassed, but they thought you were hysterical, and grew to love you.
You taught me so many important lessons. You helped me to see that there was life outside of hockey, and when there was no hockey I flourished because of you.
You introduced me to art, to music, and numerous amazing things in nature: camping in morro bay, the tide pools, the seals from davenport, kayaking in the Cupertino reservoir and half moon bay. I remember going into a restaurant with you in your kayaking suit and booties to match. You always made me laugh.
I remember your hysterically inappropriate comments and how we’d sit at a restaurant and try to figure out everyone’s story around us. Hypothesizing if the hairy guy in the corner was on a date, or if the woman was a relative. I remember you always speaking so loudly.
I remember Bear Valley and how I learned to appreciate opera, climbing granite rocks, and the long car rides in the van.
I remember Harry Potter, who moved my cheese and Just so stories, and how you would bring a new accent every night to storytime.
I remember how you crafted a car bed for me when I was younger. And how you let Jessica and I pick the color we wanted to paint our dressers.
I remember Costco and the samples. I remember your blue jeans and tennis shoes.
I remember when you wanted to buy roller skates and ended up buying two left feet. Your hockey career may have had a rocky start but you always supported mine.
I remember your warm sweaters. And how my freshman year you sent me a sweater with a hundred two dollar bills pinned inside. I remember paying with two dollar bills and thinking of you everytime that someone commented on how lucky I was to have so many two dollar bills. Really I was so lucky to have you as my Dad.
I remember twice as nice. Your love for the ocean and red wine. I will always remember our dinners. Your elaborate cooking and delicious food.
I remember when I was little and you would make us English muffins with tomato and melted munester cheese, and how we would always have steak and cucumber salad. I am so grateful that you introduced me to so many amazing restaurants, pho, chavez market, and the Indian buffet on Lawrence.
I remember when you came and visited me in Ithaca and cooked for all of my friends. I remember our search through Ithaca for Tom Yum paste.
I remember how your face lit up when you told me about Pattie and how you proudly showed me the folded picture of you two that you had in your wallet. You gave me that photo and I put it on my bulletin board. I couldn’t have found someone more perfect for you.
I remember your death dad, but more importantly I remember your life. Dad you have guided me through so much and I know that you will always be with me.
I love you,
Amber
Victor E. Frankl said..
Love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. The salvation of man is through love and in love. Love goes very far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds its deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self, whether or not he is actually present. Whether or not he is still alive at all ceases somehow to be of importance.
As we come together today to celebrate my father’s life, we can all find comfort in knowing that we each carry many memories of his love.
I want to especially acknowledge Pattie, Bill, Jessica, Jon, Amanda, Steph and everyone else who has been there for me.
Thank you all for coming out tonight, my dad would have been so honored.
