In truth, I haven't felt much like blogging lately. As most of you probably know by now, my father passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago while running. It was such a tragic, unexpected event. Our family and friends have pulled together and everyone has been amazingly supportive. And yet, everywhere I turn, I see things that remind me of my Dad and my heart aches some more. It will be a long healing process.
This is the last picture we have of Daddy with Ava.
I'd like to share with you all the eulogy I delivered for my Dad at his funeral service on Dec. 5th.
"I don't really know how to truly convey to you all how amazing I think my Daddy was, but I will do my best, and from the response we've gotten and shared, I believe a lot of you feel the same way.
To help shed light on Daddy's life, I would like to share with you the relationship we had and how the dynamic between us has changed over the years. When I was a child, Daddy was just that- my Dad. He was a playmate, my teacher, and occasional disciplinarian. We'd go camping or fishing or hiking, he'd teach me how to tell the time or identify various animals. And when he wasn't with me, he'd be off doing what I realize now were pretty extraordinary things- working at the National Forest, fighting forest fires, saving a puppy from a flooded river, making his own cast net for fishing at low tide on the Gulf, and running races or marathons.
As I got older, thy dynamic changed. Daddy's position at the Forest Service changed which entailed moving to Atlanta. Around this time, Daddy developed the blood clotting disorder which would eventually claim his life, and I was becoming more independent and moodier as I neared my teens.
This marked the beginning of one of the hardest times in our family life. In addition to the growing set of responsibilities which came with caring for a family and assuming a more important position at work, he was faced with an invisible adversary which could only be fought with concoctions of blood thinners. To make matters worse, the doctors suggested Daddy stop running. Well, Daddy plowed on, and asked, “Could I bike instead?” Tentatively, the doctors told him yes. As he went on to astound them with his resilience despite his condition, he eventually resumed the running which was always so therapeutic for both his body and mind.
As a teenager, I was moody and would eventually discover I suffered from Depression after I foolishly tried to take my own life. Through those times, Daddy and I shared a strange dance between his being what I perceived to be at the time an adversary, but keeping ever vigilant watch over me and really being a secret confidant to me in my illness.
Midway through college, my father's outstanding qualities began to reveal themselves to me. In his personal interactions, Daddy was very genuine and sincere. He listened attentively and thoughtfully, offering insight or advise regarding the subject at hand. He was never boastful or proud, although he often told us how proud he was of us and was always, always there to support us in our endeavors. Despite his somber impression, he was very witty and had a great sense of play, making us laugh with his quips or funny notes he left about or nicknames he gave to things. He possessed the perseverance to run not one but four Boston Marathons, not to mention the others he did to qualify and also the ones he ran when I was a young girl. He served as mentor and role model, touching so many lives, young and old, from teaching kids about the forests or his garden, taking walks with his grand babies, or taking a pivotal role in the development in the Advanced Silvaculture program at the Forest Service.
One key defining quality Daddy possessed was determination. I he decided to do something, he did it all the way. After careful deliberation and extensive planning, his projects always came to fruition.
He held a deep appreciation for nature, which was demonstrated not only through his career but his gorgeous garden as well.
The caliber of his work was made abundantly clear to me by the recurring admiration I met as I traveled around National Forests in the Southeast with my work, and reinforced at my fortunate ability to be present at his retirement party marking thirty distinguished years of service with the Forest Service.
And now that I'm a mother, I identify with his fierce love and commitment to us, and am beginning the journey he took with me as his eldest child.
While all of us who knew him are sharing in the tremendous heartache and shock at his passing, even in our grief we continue to feel the love and strength he gave us throughout his life. Born in Chicago, he grew up in a close knit family circle of second generation Polish immigrants. His parents, veterans of the Great Depression, instilled in him a deep sense of frugality and appreciation for all of life's blessings. He was vigilant in yearly visits to see them as well as his sister's family, and called them weekly to keep in touch.
Daddy's greatest love will always be my mother, his best friend and confidant over 33 years of marriage. And as a father, I don't believe two daughters could feel more loved or proud.
Truly blessed in life, even in his final weeks there is so much to celebrate. He spent a wondrous holiday vacation with my Mom and his sister and brother-in-laws on Little Cayman Island. On Friday, as I spoke with Mom on the phone after their arrival at the airport, he practically snatched the phone out of Mom's hand and proceeded to gush (something Daddy rarely does) about the fabulous time he had- transplanting orchids, visiting a bird preserve, biking the length of the island several times, and deep sea fishing. He said (in the airport mind you) “This isn't going to sound like me, but I biked to the end of the island with the intention to swim, but I forgot my swim trunks. I thought about swimming in my shorts, but when I got there , no one was around. For an hour and a half I was able to frolic in the ocean naked and no one showed up!”
Even in death, his wishes were fulfilled. He had once attended a personal planning seminar with the Forest Service, and his good friend Jerry Wicker told me that they were told to write down three goals. Daddy's first two words written were “Die running.” Jerry chided him at the time “, What kind of goal is that?” and Daddy sheepishly replied “Well, its more of an ambition than a goal.” Monday, his final ambition was fulfilled.
My Mom has said in the past that if you keep your heart and eyes open, those who have gone will reveal themselves to you. Every day since his passing, Daddy has revealed his presence to us- as a bunny in the backyard on the night of his disappearance; Wednesday morning as a mass of hundreds of sandhill cranes marking their yearly southern migration; yesterday as an exquisite grinning salamander, who for all intents and purposes should have been hibernating but chose instead to admire one of my Daddy's hypertufa pots; and today, as a rare snow flurry in the south.
Though he may no longer be here in person, he truly lives on in spirit as wonderful memories and the tremendous love and camaraderie which we have shared with such a remarkable man.
I love you Daddy.
We will always love you."<
-Here is a link as well to my sister's blog post regarding my father. There are some great pictures there.
Hey, honey. Guess where we're going? To Grandma and Pa Tarver's house! Yay!
There's your uncle Nathan. Look you guys both have new hats that Ms. Rosie made just for your bald little/big heads!
Oh, Uncle Nathan! We look so cute together!
Time for Thanksgiving Dinner. Get your turkey bib on because you get to try some of Grandma's sweet potato casserole! "Well, I'm not sure..."
Nom, nom, nom. "That's pretty good stuff!"
Now have some water to wash it down.
Bath time! Cool, Grandma's got duckies that light up!
Let's see how much water we can make jump out of the sink.
Hey Uncle Elijah. You just wait, because before too long I'll be chasing you around the house!
