To Sir With Love

My Dad's Eulogy / partial from me.

Maybe you are here for my mom, maybe my sister or maybe for me. I want to thank you for whatever reason in coming to support our family. I know many of you did not know my dad. For in his years of declining health, he did not get out and greet as many of you as he would have liked or would have in his younger years. But in a sense, you have met our dad, for when you see my sister or me, you see him. We are like our dad in so many ways.

Most people do not want to become their parents but I find it an honor. Many times I say to myself (or my husband likes to remind me—sly little smile intended here)—“I have become my dad.” and I just smile back.

You would be proud dad!

For you have taught me well—even in your last days and in the moments when you were most confused, I would answer you with, “Yes sir or No sir” and you would ask me what was up with the “Sir stuff.” I reminded you how you would not answer Lynn and me when we were younger unless “Sir’’ was tacked on when answering you or anyone. And your legacy lives on in your grandchildren. Remember Chyenne as she came running down from a house as she trick or treated yelling, “Momma, momma, I said my good manners.” The homeowners just giggled but it warmed my heart and I thought of you. I owe that to you dad. Thank you for my “good manners.”

Even to the end you took care of Lynn and me. For in your last moments you and God (of course) gave us a gift that we will cherish forever. You had been unresponsive for days and you woke up and looked at us sitting on both sides of you to say, how much you loved us. In a weak but loving voice you called us by name, I now know how special our names were to you because just weeks before (during another anointed time) you told me why we were named Connie and Lynn. You said because they were “Beautiful names like you both.” And then you went on to say, “You are my little girl and you will always be my little girls. I love you both. You take care of your little sister. You take care of each other.” And then you drifted back into a sleep.

I know in my own work of Hospice that not everyone gets these gifts but we did and we know you probably worked out some deal with God to make it happen.

For Jesus was right there in the room. As earlier when I told you how much Jesus loved you, you said, “I love Him, too.” Then you pointed to the corner of the room and said in a whisper, “Jesus is right there.”

Our time with you was beyond even the Supernatural, it was God! I soon had the nurses watching where they walked because Jesus was in the corner. I wished you could have seen their faces!

Ok... so you made us laugh in the midst of crying. There was the little thing with your Pastor ….He came in to see you and “well, Dad you kind of yelled out Holy (a word that can’t be said in this group)….” I think you caught your pastor off guard. We just sort of held our breath; I mean did you just commit some kind of cardinal sin? But only dad would do such a thing. When I finally had the courage to look your Pastor Les in the eye, he said, “Well, at least it was Holy.”

And Mom, I want you to know Dad always told us how lucky he was to have you and how much he loved you. We are lucky to have you too. Thank you for always being there for dad. And I am glad you received the most special gift as dad entered Heaven, his big beautiful smile; for we know he saw Jesus. You were the one to witness this. It was your unique and extraordinary moment with Heaven.

And now we know:
As dad woke, he envisioned stepping onto a shore but found it to be Heaven;
And as he took hold of a hand, he realized it was the hand of GOD, His Papa.
For the first time he breathes new air— that of celestial air.
The invigoration he now feels, well it is immortality
He has walked from the storm to an indescribable calm
Walking …Dad--you have found HOME…

So today, we weep. Even Jesus wept. Not because of death but because our hearts are broken for this season of separation.

But it is only for a season. For tomorrow, there is a promise—that of eternal life.

I love you Dad.

I celebrate your homecoming and your life—to you— To Sir with Love…..