Ramblings of a Believer

As many of you know, my Father went to be with his Savior on Tuesday, October 26, 2010.  On Sunday, October 31, 2010 we had a simple memorial service for the man I consider my hero and example in life.  I’ve spent this past year thinking about what my dad has meant to me.  At the service I had the honor and privilege of honoring him with what he meant to me.  I debated whether I would publish what I said, but after prayerful consideration, I decided to go ahead and share…

Sunday’s are a day of rest and meant to spend time with families.  On behalf of my family I want to thank all of you for your love, prayers and support through this week and for sharing this time with our family.  We are honored.

When I think of my dad 3 things come straight to mind:

Honor, Integrity, Character

This past weekend, prior to my dad’s passing; Nancy and I had the privilege of spending time in our nation’s capital. I was there to run in the Army 10 Miler in honor of our US soldiers and Nancy and I took the opportunity to spend a long weekend away.  The whole time we were there and while running the race I thought a lot about my dad.  About how much he would have loved to be there.  While he never actually became a US citizen he was a legal US resident for over 50 years.  He came here from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil at 26 to pursue an opportunity.  The plan was never to stay but he found a bride and in honor of their American born children they stayed.  He loved this country, but he was proud of his Brazilian heritage.

On Monday we spent time with my dad and told him stories about our trip.  He seemed to enjoy the conversation, but you could see how tired he’d become from this year long battle.

For my mom, the plan in the end was to hold his hand when he transitioned from this life to the next.  But on Tuesday, October 26th, I was the one who had the privilege of being there with him as he took his last breath.  The thing that I will remember most as I was saying goodbye to his physical body were his hands; his big strong hands; hands that showed years of hard work that provided for our family.

He never took any short cuts.  While living in NY my dad would work as many as 3 jobs to provide for us.  In 1970, he was given the opportunity to move us to Miami to work with Varig Airlines.  The job was to clean floors and toilets, but it was a good job and he gladly took it.  23 years later he retired as a manager in the Cargo Department, but it wasn’t always easy because he was a man of honor and integrity.  I remember while in college receiving a call from my mom about a major drug bust in his cargo department.  2000 lb. of cocaine had gone from a Cargo plane originating in Brazil through the warehouse and into the streets of Miami before being intercepted by the authorities. However, two things made it very clear that my dad was not involved:

1) No drug dealer’s son drives around in a 1984 Olds Firenze with rusty doors and a leaky sunroof

2) Out of respect for my dad everyone involved made sure they ran drugs through the warehouse only when my dad was not at work.  Even after the investigations it was perfectly clear my dad was never involved and I never once questioned it; and knowing my dad, no one at his work ever questioned it either.

As I think about my dad, one of the things I am most proud of… albeit silly to be thinking about it right now, was that my dad was an amazing soccer player.  He played semi-professional ball in Brazil and he loved the game so much he coached and later refereed here in the States up until 5 years ago at the age of 72; only stopping because my mom asked him to.  One of my fondest memories is being home from College at my dad’s company picnic.  My friends and I decided we would play the kids against the parents.  Of course we thought we had the advantage because we were young and in our prime.  I figured I would finally get the drop on the old man and score on him (I’d never done it before).  In 60 minutes I took no less than 10 shots on the old man.  I took outside shots, tried dribbling passed him, I even decided to try and flick one over his head as he came out of the goal… Nothing doing!  He simply back peddled and flicked it over the cross bar with his fingertips, making it look almost effortless.  While my competitive nature frustrated me, the thing I remember most that day is no matter how I reacted he continued to encourage me to never give up.  My dad persevered through hardship his entire life, but he never stopped teaching me to be a man of character and integrity.  I can look back at the husband, father and man that I have become and it is through my father’s example that I have taken mostly good things and made me who I am.

My dad may have been a little rough around the edges, but there was never any doubt that he loved my mom, my sister and me.  The big joke in our house was if we saw roses my dad had done something wrong.  He was never afraid to admit he was wrong in his own way and he always apologized in his own way.   The older he got the more those rough edges became smooth and the more he wanted to hug me, the more he would laugh, and the more he wanted to be a part of our everyday lives.

He was so proud of his grandkids.  When he first found out he was sick he seemed most upset at the thought of not seeing them grow up and seeing them become who they were meant to be.  But he was very proud of who they were becoming and no matter how sick and weak he was he always seemed to light up when they walked in the room.  What I hope he now knows, is how much who they are becoming has to do directly with who he was.

The thing that is becoming more apparent and what I did not anticipate is just how much I miss my dad. It hasn’t even been a week yet and I miss the fact that I won’t be able to go see him and talk to him about how much the Yankee’s piss me off and what was Eli Manning thinking, and how much I feel like I am the only Yankee and Giants fan in all of Franklin. I will miss the opportunities to tell him about my successes and my struggles.  These conversations were never long or drawn out.  There was never great epiphanies revealed, but there was always the steady and approving acknowledgment that he loved me and no matter what he was proud of me.  That is what I will miss the most.

When I think of my dad, the following verse come to mind…

James 1:12, “Blessed is the man who endures temptation; for when he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.”

Thank you all for coming and helping my family honor him!