Dad's Eulogy and Funeral
Jul. 23rd, 2007 08:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mythtellerIt's over. The funeral was today and very well attended, I'm happy to report. The last two days have been a marathon of old friends and relatives turning up to bid farewell to my father.
My mother and sister are well, but relieved it's all over (as am I). I even managed to slip a few coins into my father's breast pocket so that he could pay the ferryman on his journey. I wonder what will happen to them during the cremation process.
I spent the last few days writing my father's eulogy (you'll notice I recycled some of what I posted previously), which I delivered during the mass blessing and honoring my father. I managed to keep my composure through the entire reading, only getting a little choked up at the end. I even pulled off an impression of my father, which got a few laughs from the audience (and comments later).
One of our family friends offered to print the eulogy as a souvenir to those who attended. Although I found this to be a little overboard, she insisted, so I emailed her the eulogy the day before the funeral. She printed 50 copies, rolled them up, and tied a bow onto each one. All but 10 of them were taken, to my great surprise.
Now I'm just enjoying a quiet evening on the patio at my parent's house and I'll be heading home soon. Must get back to the life I left behind.
Because some people have requested it, I'm posting Dad's Eulogy. I think I managed to capture his essence, but I can only hope I did his memory justice.
Bonjour/Hello
I want to thank you all for coming out to this ceremony, but also to all those who visited my father during his stay at the Hotel Dieu. I'd also like to thank the staff on the 8th floor of the Hotel Dieu for taking such good care of my father. They were gentle, compassionate, and did their best to make him as comfortable as possible in his final days.
How will we remember Reid? He was so many thing to so many people. He was a son, a brother, a mentor, a father, a husband, and so much more. But to all of us, he was a friend that we always looked forward to seeing and speaking with. He always had a smile and laugh ready for us when we had a chance to see him.
He was a man who lived his passions. He loved to create, to build, to learn, and to share what he could with people who needed his help. Whatever he decided to work on, he did his best and he worked hard at it. And he bulit wonders that are still standing and enjoy by many people today.
My earliest memories are of his footsteps coming down the stairs at all hours of the night. While he worked for Bell Canada, he would be called in for emergencies on his Bell Boy, an early form of pager that only Bell Canada employees had. I would lie in my bed and hear his heavy footsteps hit each step, and then make their way to the kitchen for some breakfast before going to work. Sometimes I would join him for breakfast and we'd watch the sun rise in the backyard while we ate in silence.
Sometimes he'd leave the house in the middle of the night on call, but when I would get up for breakfast, there'd be a fire in the backyard fireplace and Dad would be working on something in the tool shed.
I remember supper table conversations when Dad would talk about work and the challenges he faced and how he solved them. I remember how fascinated he was with technology and how things worked. "When this wheel turns, that box drops, and the ball rolls out. Ein! Incroyable." And then he would laugh.
Affectionately known as "Pops", he loved to build, to create with his hands. He loved seeing the problem and coming up with a constructed solution, and then putting that solution in action. When my parents bought the cottage up at Lac Seargeant, it must've seemed like a dream come true to my father. I remember a bug-infested June when a few of us went up to the cottage to tear part of it down so that Dad could rebuild and extend it.
By the cottage, there were two docks: one for the boats and one for the swimmers. When we arrived, both docks were starting to rot and become unusable. Dad was able to come up with an improved design that was not only safer to use, but was easier to store away in the winter. This was something that everyone could benefit from, but Dad never made a big deal about it. He was able to use his skills to improve the lives of his neighbours and that was good enough for him.
Our own house has been extended and improved bit-by-bit over the last 30 years. My father's last big project was the solarium, which has been something my mum has been hinting at (and if you know my mother, subtlety is not her strong point) for the past 15 years.
My dad was a generous man, especially with his time and his help. If you needed help with a project, you could be sure that Dad would be there with his tools and his good advice. He always did more that he needed to because he took pride in his work and doing a good job.
After retiring from Bell Canada in 1995, he took the time to complete some personal projects (like the cottage and building the solarium at home). He also spent time helping others with any renovation work that they needed, but didn't know how to do.
He worked with Hugh Fraser on the Fraser Recovery Programme whose mission was to keep the youth of Quebec City sober and in school and at home. This organization was given a house on Chemin Ste. Foy from which they would run their operations, but the house was old and needed to be restored. Dad was proud to have worked on this project, lending his skills and know-how to such a fine cause.
In his retirement years, he also took the time to travel with Diane and see the world. Together, they traveled to Scotland, Ireland (to visit Wendy), France, Tunisia, Spain, Nova Scotia, and mostly recently Italy. Mum and Dad loved seeing the wonders of the world in person and learning how the people live in these places.
He was a sociable person and loved to receive people in his home. He loved catching up on news and to talk about his own adventures, either at home or during his travels abroad. He was facinated by people and hearing their own stories.
At family events, I remember watching my Dad sit at the head of the table, surrounded by friends, family, and food. Everyone was laughing and telling stories, and Dad was reveling in it all. He would sit back, smile, and seem completely satisfied with the moment.
Our father is a good man and we have always admired him. Everything that is good about us, his children, comes from him and the example he set for us. He taught us about honor without ever using the word. He taught us about loyalty without ever pointing it out. He taught us the meaning of friendship, generosity, and that there is great value in being a good person, being compassionate, and being true to yourself.
He didn't sit us down and explain these things to us formally; he taught us by living and by being true to himself. My father is a great man, not because he invented the wheel, climbed a mountain, or made a million dollars, but because he loved his family, his friends, and his children.
I can only aspire to be my father's son.
==============================
Do not stand at my grave and weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
My mother and sister are well, but relieved it's all over (as am I). I even managed to slip a few coins into my father's breast pocket so that he could pay the ferryman on his journey. I wonder what will happen to them during the cremation process.
I spent the last few days writing my father's eulogy (you'll notice I recycled some of what I posted previously), which I delivered during the mass blessing and honoring my father. I managed to keep my composure through the entire reading, only getting a little choked up at the end. I even pulled off an impression of my father, which got a few laughs from the audience (and comments later).
One of our family friends offered to print the eulogy as a souvenir to those who attended. Although I found this to be a little overboard, she insisted, so I emailed her the eulogy the day before the funeral. She printed 50 copies, rolled them up, and tied a bow onto each one. All but 10 of them were taken, to my great surprise.
Now I'm just enjoying a quiet evening on the patio at my parent's house and I'll be heading home soon. Must get back to the life I left behind.
Because some people have requested it, I'm posting Dad's Eulogy. I think I managed to capture his essence, but I can only hope I did his memory justice.
Bonjour/Hello
I want to thank you all for coming out to this ceremony, but also to all those who visited my father during his stay at the Hotel Dieu. I'd also like to thank the staff on the 8th floor of the Hotel Dieu for taking such good care of my father. They were gentle, compassionate, and did their best to make him as comfortable as possible in his final days.
How will we remember Reid? He was so many thing to so many people. He was a son, a brother, a mentor, a father, a husband, and so much more. But to all of us, he was a friend that we always looked forward to seeing and speaking with. He always had a smile and laugh ready for us when we had a chance to see him.
He was a man who lived his passions. He loved to create, to build, to learn, and to share what he could with people who needed his help. Whatever he decided to work on, he did his best and he worked hard at it. And he bulit wonders that are still standing and enjoy by many people today.
My earliest memories are of his footsteps coming down the stairs at all hours of the night. While he worked for Bell Canada, he would be called in for emergencies on his Bell Boy, an early form of pager that only Bell Canada employees had. I would lie in my bed and hear his heavy footsteps hit each step, and then make their way to the kitchen for some breakfast before going to work. Sometimes I would join him for breakfast and we'd watch the sun rise in the backyard while we ate in silence.
Sometimes he'd leave the house in the middle of the night on call, but when I would get up for breakfast, there'd be a fire in the backyard fireplace and Dad would be working on something in the tool shed.
I remember supper table conversations when Dad would talk about work and the challenges he faced and how he solved them. I remember how fascinated he was with technology and how things worked. "When this wheel turns, that box drops, and the ball rolls out. Ein! Incroyable." And then he would laugh.
Affectionately known as "Pops", he loved to build, to create with his hands. He loved seeing the problem and coming up with a constructed solution, and then putting that solution in action. When my parents bought the cottage up at Lac Seargeant, it must've seemed like a dream come true to my father. I remember a bug-infested June when a few of us went up to the cottage to tear part of it down so that Dad could rebuild and extend it.
By the cottage, there were two docks: one for the boats and one for the swimmers. When we arrived, both docks were starting to rot and become unusable. Dad was able to come up with an improved design that was not only safer to use, but was easier to store away in the winter. This was something that everyone could benefit from, but Dad never made a big deal about it. He was able to use his skills to improve the lives of his neighbours and that was good enough for him.
Our own house has been extended and improved bit-by-bit over the last 30 years. My father's last big project was the solarium, which has been something my mum has been hinting at (and if you know my mother, subtlety is not her strong point) for the past 15 years.
My dad was a generous man, especially with his time and his help. If you needed help with a project, you could be sure that Dad would be there with his tools and his good advice. He always did more that he needed to because he took pride in his work and doing a good job.
After retiring from Bell Canada in 1995, he took the time to complete some personal projects (like the cottage and building the solarium at home). He also spent time helping others with any renovation work that they needed, but didn't know how to do.
He worked with Hugh Fraser on the Fraser Recovery Programme whose mission was to keep the youth of Quebec City sober and in school and at home. This organization was given a house on Chemin Ste. Foy from which they would run their operations, but the house was old and needed to be restored. Dad was proud to have worked on this project, lending his skills and know-how to such a fine cause.
In his retirement years, he also took the time to travel with Diane and see the world. Together, they traveled to Scotland, Ireland (to visit Wendy), France, Tunisia, Spain, Nova Scotia, and mostly recently Italy. Mum and Dad loved seeing the wonders of the world in person and learning how the people live in these places.
He was a sociable person and loved to receive people in his home. He loved catching up on news and to talk about his own adventures, either at home or during his travels abroad. He was facinated by people and hearing their own stories.
At family events, I remember watching my Dad sit at the head of the table, surrounded by friends, family, and food. Everyone was laughing and telling stories, and Dad was reveling in it all. He would sit back, smile, and seem completely satisfied with the moment.
Our father is a good man and we have always admired him. Everything that is good about us, his children, comes from him and the example he set for us. He taught us about honor without ever using the word. He taught us about loyalty without ever pointing it out. He taught us the meaning of friendship, generosity, and that there is great value in being a good person, being compassionate, and being true to yourself.
He didn't sit us down and explain these things to us formally; he taught us by living and by being true to himself. My father is a great man, not because he invented the wheel, climbed a mountain, or made a million dollars, but because he loved his family, his friends, and his children.
I can only aspire to be my father's son.
==============================
Do not stand at my grave and weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 02:31 am (UTC)I never knew the man, but he will be missed and it seems that he definitely left his mark on the world.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 01:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 01:11 pm (UTC)Hugs!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 07:41 pm (UTC)We had some very practical advice after Taryn died, and I will pass it onto you with hopes that it helps you as it helped us:
1. Take care of yourself and don't let people tell you or push you to behave or react in a way that doesn't feel right to YOU.
2. Drink lots of water. Bereaved people frequently forget to eat and drink, causing dehydration.
3. Rest when and if you need to do so. Getting enough sleep is crucial in the coming days, weeks, and months. Don't feel weak because your body is exhausted. It's natural.
4. Feel the way you need to feel and make NO APOLOGIES to anyone if he/she doesn't like it or understand it. This is a time in which you need to be selfish and do things for yourself, not others.
5. When people ask, "How are you doing?" You are under NO obligation to say, "Fine, thanks." Be honest, even if it makes the other person uncomfortable. It's not your job to comfort right now - you're the one who needs it more.
6. Don't be afraid to ask for help no matter how small or large a favor you need. People don't know what to do to help and are usually thrilled to respond to those who ask for help.
Again, you have my deepest sympathies and although many people will tell you it will get better or easier with time, the truth is, it will suck for a much longer time than you are prepared for. I don't say this out of cruelness, but out of honesty and a healthy respect for grief.
Take care of yourself.... tina
(friend of Tony, Kira, and on facebook)
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 03:31 pm (UTC)The "How're you doing?" and the "How're you holding up?" questions were starting to drive me batty, to the point I started replying "Stop asking me that question!"
The reality of all of this is starting to sink in, but I'm being very well supported by workmates, friends, and family.
Thanks very much for offering your care to a person you've never even met. I'm touched.