Not too long ago I came across a quote which I immediately sent to my Dad. It read, “If after you are grown you think back on your childhood and smile you were raised by a great man.” I called my Dad to make certain he received it and how much I appreciated the man and father he was.
I could go on forever today telling you everything that was wonderful about my father, however there aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish that. Therefore, I will give you a small snapshot, albeit inadequate snapshot of the man he was to me.
Although we were not the richest of families while I was growing up, my brother and I can look back fondly and recognize the things that mattered most, carried no price tag as they could neither be bought or sold. My father was a simple man, the hardest of workers, a devoted man who adored my mother, and loved his family with every fiber of his being. We never wanted for anything as my father always made certain we were provided for, even if that meant he went without. To me my father was larger than life, quelling my fears during thunderstorms with giant bear hugs, scooping me up in his arms when I would race to greet him after he came out of work, and holding me through heartbreak years later. I remember my father smelling of Brut aftershave which he would splash on my face when I was little as I watched my hero shave getting ready for work. My father was dirty hands after working on the family car, he was Bill Gray’s garbage plates, he was sealing the driveway, painting the house, and trudging through the blustery cold and snow for hours because we wanted to find the perfect Christmas tree. My father was barbecuing on the charcoal grill, he was Genny cream ale, peppermint schnapps, 1950’s cars, peanut M&M’s, Ridge Donuts, Cashews, and Science programs narrated by Carl Sagan. My father was a warm fire in the fireplace, a cozy recliner, Christmas decorations, the movie It’s a Wonderful Life, and any Nicholas Spark’s movie. My father was green carnations he brought to my mother every St. Patrick’s Day, roses for their anniversary, and picking my mother up off the ground for a big hug and kiss. My brother and I had the privilege of witnessing my father and mother’s love story firsthand, even after my mother passed away at a young age my father continued to regale us with stories of their romance and tell me that no matter what, my mother was still his girl.
My father taught me a woman should be strong and independent, despite the fact he was raised in a time when that was not emphasized. My father gave me my love of spicy foods, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, 1940’s and 50’s music and movies, and after listening to stories of his younger years, he made me long to live in a time when life was much simpler. My father made me toe the line, demanding respect, that I never talk back to my mother, I abide by the rules of the house (as he would say, “as long as you’re living under my roof,”) and that I complete the necessary chores around the house with no allowance much to my chagrin. (As he would say, “You live rent free therefore you should participate in the upkeep of the home you live in,) and if I failed to follow through with any of those requests there would be repercussions. I sat through numerous lectures which were my father’s attempts to direct me in the right path, and during my teen years it seemed as though they occurred on a daily basis, and during my college years they took place every time I came home. Despite this my father never gave up and stated he knew I would come through it all explaining, “You and I are very much alike, not only in looks but personality as well. Unfortunately, kiddo you are very much like me in every way…good and bad.”
My father and I were always very close and after the passing of my mother that bond became even stronger. To say the passing of my Dad has been devastating would be an understatement. There have been moments where I find it difficult to breathe and it physically aches, I miss him so much. However, I try and take solace in the fact I was privileged to have him as a father, and to be able to spend so much time with him in his later years and at the time of his passing. I am so grateful he was able to meet my husband Aaron, and become so close with him, referring to Aaron as his third child. A couple of days before he passed, my father was having a difficult time speaking, but he told me he talked to my mother. I will always take comfort knowing he still recognized me, told me he loved me, and that my mother was talking to him. I believe my mother has been patiently waiting for him and now they can be together forever, where they will always be young, they will never know pain again, and they can continue their love affair.
Dear Bro,
Thank you for looking out for me all these years. When our father died at such an early age you became the patriarch of the family. I could always looked to you for advice or just to talk. You always had my best interest at heart. Love and miss you Bro!
Not too long ago I came across a quote which I immediately sent to my Dad. It read, “If after you are grown you think back on your childhood and smile you were raised by a great man.” I called my Dad to make certain he received it and how much I appreciated the man and father he was.
I could go on forever today telling you everything that was wonderful about my father, however there aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish that. Therefore, I will give you a small snapshot, albeit inadequate snapshot of the man he was to me.
Although we were not the richest of families while I was growing up, my brother and I can look back fondly and recognize the things that mattered most, carried no price tag as they could neither be bought or sold. My father was a simple man, the hardest of workers, a devoted man who adored my mother, and loved his family with every fiber of his being. We never wanted for anything as my father always made certain we were provided for, even if that meant he went without. To me my father was larger than life, quelling my fears during thunderstorms with giant bear hugs, scooping me up in his arms when I would race to greet him after he came out of work, and holding me through heartbreak years later. I remember my father smelling of Brut aftershave which he would splash on my face when I was little as I watched my hero shave getting ready for work. My father was dirty hands after working on the family car, he was Bill Gray’s garbage plates, he was sealing the driveway, painting the house, and trudging through the blustery cold and snow for hours because we wanted to find the perfect Christmas tree. My father was barbecuing on the charcoal grill, he was Genny cream ale, peppermint schnapps, 1950’s cars, peanut M&M’s, Ridge Donuts, Cashews, and Science programs narrated by Carl Sagan. My father was a warm fire in the fireplace, a cozy recliner, Christmas decorations, the movie It’s a Wonderful Life, and any Nicholas Spark’s movie. My father was green carnations he brought to my mother every St. Patrick’s Day, roses for their anniversary, and picking my mother up off the ground for a big hug and kiss. My brother and I had the privilege of witnessing my father and mother’s love story firsthand, even after my mother passed away at a young age my father continued to regale us with stories of their romance and tell me that no matter what, my mother was still his girl.
My father taught me a woman should be strong and independent, despite the fact he was raised in a time when that was not emphasized. My father gave me my love of spicy foods, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, 1940’s and 50’s music and movies, and after listening to stories of his younger years, he made me long to live in a time when life was much simpler. My father made me toe the line, demanding respect, that I never talk back to my mother, I abide by the rules of the house (as he would say, “as long as you’re living under my roof,”) and that I complete the necessary chores around the house with no allowance much to my chagrin. (As he would say, “You live rent free therefore you should participate in the upkeep of the home you live in,) and if I failed to follow through with any of those requests there would be repercussions. I sat through numerous lectures which were my father’s attempts to direct me in the right path, and during my teen years it seemed as though they occurred on a daily basis, and during my college years they took place every time I came home. Despite this my father never gave up and stated he knew I would come through it all explaining, “You and I are very much alike, not only in looks but personality as well. Unfortunately, kiddo you are very much like me in every way…good and bad.”
My father and I were always very close and after the passing of my mother that bond became even stronger. To say the passing of my Dad has been devastating would be an understatement. There have been moments where I find it difficult to breathe and it physically aches, I miss him so much. However, I try and take solace in the fact I was privileged to have him as a father, and to be able to spend so much time with him in his later years and at the time of his passing. I am so grateful he was able to meet my husband Aaron, and become so close with him, referring to Aaron as his third child. A couple of days before he passed, my father was having a difficult time speaking, but he told me he talked to my mother. I will always take comfort knowing he still recognized me, told me he loved me, and that my mother was talking to him. I believe my mother has been patiently waiting for him and now they can be together forever, where they will always be young, they will never know pain again, and they can continue their love affair.
I love you so much Dad.
Your daughter
Kimberly (Kimmie) Eyrich
So sorry for your loss – Love, The Boilys
We are so thankful that Jim Came into our lives and joined our family – With love, The Stearns and the Lyon Families
With deepest sympathy – The Galban Family
“Dad”
To my big brother Jimmy. From your loving sister, May God be with you – Donna
Our hearts are aching like we know you are – Love Uncle Dusty & Aunt Mary
Our thoughts and prayers are with you. We love you guys very much – Jim, Bev & Momma LaBuez
My dearest Jim you were always so concerned how I was doing. I’ll miss your love and big bear hugs. Rest in peace Bro. Love Mary XO
Dear Bro,
Thank you for looking out for me all these years. When our father died at such an early age you became the patriarch of the family. I could always looked to you for advice or just to talk. You always had my best interest at heart. Love and miss you Bro!
Love,
Dusty