A Eulogy I wrote for my Father, read at St Dominicks Church on Halloween in 2016, I added photos and some captions.
To My Hero
Good morning everyone, my dad tried to be late for this.
First, thank you all for coming, all the offers of help and support for our family have been overwhelming. You just don’t realize how much people care about you, until they all care about you at once. It’s truly humbling for all of us. Thank you all very much.
You know how when you’re a kid you think, ‘man my dad is like a real super-hero’. He knows everything, he’s really strong. He makes you fried tomatoes, he makes you go back and finish a fight, he teaches you how to be a gentleman. He makes you learn from mistakes and bad choices. A lot of them. You might not think super hero at first.
My dad is my hero.
You know, like most of your dads, maybe not all the time, or ever, sometimes.
He never claimed to be perfect. But in some of my hardest choices, toughest spots, and worst moments, he’s stepped out of a shadow, a squad car, a doorway, from behind an ER curtain — places I shouldn’t have been — and it was just what I needed, not necessarily what I wanted all the time. But truly what I needed.
I wasn’t sure, for many years if my dad was really proud of me, understood me, thought I was a credible, serious adult, even if he thought I measured up to his standards. While flawed, I like most of you, still I sought my dad’s attention and approval and it wasn’t until he called one day about a year ago and told me– I had to pull the car over on the side of 422 and cried a good bit or it was really, really dusty in my car. Either way. I was having a tough time…
And without any of his customary jabs, jokes and shit my dad says, he said, ‘son I wanted to tell you, how proud I am of you and the man you’ve become and how proud he was of all his children and he went on for a good while, like a rant almost.
And he threw down, many details and things I didn’t think he even knew, or less, cared about—and it was about me, specifics matter cause it’s like he’d been saving up for a long time, even now it’s getting dusty in here.
So on that day
in that car
my father told me
in long form, what I needed to hear,
at just the right time
in just the right way. He was my hero that day.
He is my hero, and now my hero is gone, and I can’t be his hero.
But everyone has asked how they could help, well, here’s how you all can help.
Think of it as your way to be a hero.
Here’s what i want you to remember and do as often as possible…
Wherever your dad is, and whatever he’s done or not done. Reach out, say hi, tell him you love him, forgive him–cause that’s for you, make amends and let him know he’s done a good job. My father would tell us all the time, ‘show me your friends and I’ll show you who you are’.
So just look around…you can see who we are.
You’re all pretty great,
and perhaps we are,
so thanks Dad for that.
Next, I want you take a minute to tell your children
however old they are,
wherever they are,
that you are proud of them all the time.
Even when they screw up, fail or disappoint.
Handing out pride in our children is an indivisible sum with unlimited returns.
So, quit crying, and call your dad and say a prayer for mine… #myhero #callyourdad
