Dad (Words of Remembrance)

Dad. As kids that’s all we really called dad, just dad. No fancy or clever nicknames. Dad, born April 1st, 1930, had an interesting sense of humor. Perhaps being born on April Fool’s Day had something to do with it? Or perhaps it was being born the seventh of ten children. Then again it could have been growing up with six sisters. But for me, I have to think it was more in line with having only one bathroom to share with the entire family. And this, with only cold water. I think this helped develop his unique sense of humor. And more often than not, it had just a little sarcasm built into the punch line.

            There’re a couple of little ditties that dad would recite with some regularity. One was based on food. The verse he would sing, reads like this:

“There’s Spam and wham and deviled ham,
And somethin' new called Zoom
Just take it home and heat it to the temperature of the room
And you can bake it, flake it, Shake it, make it, take it,

Any way you choose.
And that's the situation, when you got those, Duration Blues”

I had always thought this was some cute ditty dad had learned as a youth and just never forgot. Then about a year or so ago I did a search and found out it was a song from WWII. This song was really about rationing. Rationing was of course, a reality in his day, and so it makes sense that this would stick with him. But to me it’s more about his sense of humor, and his notion of life.

            The second ditty is a little more obscure. This one is about attitude. And it goes like this:

Your troubles will vanish like a bubble,

If you only take the trouble, just to smile.

Dad’s sense humor and his sense of life were uniquely inter-tangled. A positive attitude can make all the difference in the world.

            Dad was also a builder. Dad built a business, he built the building for the business. Dad built a second building so he could sell the business and retire. He tiled the walkway leading up to the house. Dad laid the tiles throughout the downstairs of the house. He, along with mom and I, installed the wood flooring upstairs and the stair case. Dad built the basin for the fountain. He laid the block for the planters, and designed the landscaping. And of course dad designed and built the St. Francis mission on the side of house. He then proudly named it, Mission impossible.

Dad was dad, a unique personality. He had a glow about him, a glow that made you feel like he knew something you didn’t. Dad was a provider. Work hard, play hard, play for fun, play to win, because there’s no fun in losing. Do it right the first time, because it takes even longer to do it twice. No one is going to give you anything, you have to earn it.

Goodbye dad 

Dad, family man. Dedicated and loving husband to mom for 62 years, father of three, grandfather to six.

I’ve tried to express not the physical exploits of dad, but instead the essence of dad. Each of us has a different idea or feel of what constitutes dad. Today we say goodbye to the physical dad. And I believe that God has lovingly accepted dad’s soul in to his kingdom. But the essence of dad will be with us as long as we tell our stories, and remember that “feel” that we had around, dad.

Thank you so much for being here this morning. You are all greatly appreciated, and loved.

David E. Gonzales, son

Alzheimer’s, A Thousand Good Bye’s

           Each day, sometimes hour, there’s a new realization, a deeper understanding of this most egregious disease. Alzheimer’s is a slow and unpredictable demise of the afflicted and simply the most despicable type of torture ever devised by nature. No man could think up any method more emotionally or physically debilitating.

          Each day is a new good bye. And yet there he is, dad, sitting there, starring back at me. Sometimes he stares at me with a smile, Sometimes it’s as blank as night. I never know if there will be a dawn. Sometimes he speaks fluently, if only for a short sentence. Then it’s back to mumbling, fidgeting with is hands. He attempts to stand, only to wonder why. A customer needs help, a meeting needs to be attended, a car needs to be washed and readied for the customer to pick-up. But that was fifteen years ago.

          Time no longer matters. There’s no longer a difference between dawn or dusk, between Sunday or any day. It’s just today, it’s just right now, and it’s just never going to be the same. As his personality slowly vanishes, the reality of his mortality increasingly develops. After all. He is my hero, my mentor, that bigger than life guy I still remember from when I was a kid.

          And then there’s the dilemma of the end. I know what that means, for there’s only one end to Alzheimer’s. Except with Alzheimer’s there’s more than one death. I want so much for my father’s suffering to end. But that would mean a new suffering would begin, but this time it would be my mother who suffers. The suffering of grief.

          Grief, that despicable yet emotionally necessary process of healing. There’s no time limit on grief, and Alzheimer’s, that thousand different ways and days of saying goodbye grinds out every drop of emotional fortitude. This is grieving in advance, preparing for grieving post. It’s going to happen, my father’s death, I’ll miss dad, and I’ll be happy for dad, while hurting for mom.

          I thank God for his grace that allows me the strength to deal with the ever changing and challenging emotional and psychological drain this disease affects. I am thankful for my training in chaplaincy and religious study to help me, and hopefully my family, through this most difficult time. And to help us through the difficult time that is most certainly yet to come.

          I’ll never be sure when dad will leave us for good, I do know that he will leave us before he dies. There’s so much to say, ………. That will never be said.

by David E. Gonzales

“In his great love,

the God of all consolation gave us the gift of life.

May he bless you with faith,

in the resurrection of his Son,

and with the hope of rising to new life.”

Amen-

From the “Shorter Book of Blessings”