Lisa's eulogy

We had the most amazing dad . . .

When I was a little girl, you had the most amazing talents. You told me you could run so fast that your feet could touch the back of your head. I thought that was so amazing! And you told me when I had a bad dream, I could call you in my sleep, and you could shrink down, crawling into my dreams through my ear, chasing those bad dreams away. It really worked! That was amazing!

I got a little bit older, and your talents multiplied. You could fix any pinball machine within a 50 mile radius of Gladstone, MO. Amazingly, all the broken pinball machines ended up in our basement, creating a great place for neighborhood kids to play. I remember lots of parties in that basement with wheelbarrows full of beer and the juke box playing so long it started to smoke. What an amazing way to grow up!

You knew everything about baseball. I remember sitting in our basement at 1709 NE 67^th Place watching every pitch of a World Series between the Red Sox and the Reds. I marveled at the way you could tell a fast ball from a curve ball. That was so amazing to me.

Which leads me to the most amazing softball coach ever. I know it because I watched you from the bench! You convinced a bunch of Bad News Bears 11-12 year old girls that they could beat the Red Team. I don’t remember if we ever did, but I know we believed we could. You had a knack for teaching people to go beyond what they thought they could do, always looking on the bright side, and overcoming any obstacle in their way. That was such an amazing gift that you brought to anyone you ever met.

Your talents knew no bounds. Whether it was fixing cars, growing the greenest grass on the block, or navigating three non-rev kids through O’Hare at Christmas time, you were amazing.

Time passed, and your talents continued to amaze us. Motor homes, kit cars, and swimming pools . . . life was always an adventure whenever you were around!

The teenage years came around, and we began to choose our own paths. I remember you and Mom dropping me off at college. It was August in Mississippi, and my dorm was unairconditioned. You hunted down a Wal Mart and bought me a fan. You were also hunting down cold beer and were quite amazed to find that only warm beer was sold in Oxford, Missisippi, something that you never could quite understand.

Atlanta awaited a 22 year old school teacher. It was here that I learned to use everything you taught me. Believe in yourself, and everyone else will, too. Work hard, play hard. Chicken soup cures all ailments, especially if you share it. Always keep a can of tomatoes in the house. And best of all . . . Fun is the best thing to have (especially in a new car!)

Soon the five of us were scattered across four different time zones, and for awhile, two continents. It was there that the desire for cinque was born. Miles apart only brought us closer together. Whatever the occasion, you and Mom could make cinque happen. It was amazing.

Cinque rapidly multiplied and soon became 12, but it was still cinque. You were the most amazing PopPop. You were absolutely sure that every one of your grandchildren was the smartest, fastest, prettiest, most creative and most talented child ever put on this earth. Through your influence, I hope that they will grow up to be as full of life, adventure, and optimism as you always were. I know that they will never forget the wonderful times you shared with them. Of course they will always remember all of the fun vacations we had together . . . The Disney Cruise, New York on FDR drive for fourth of July, Thanksgiving at the beach, and Disney Land. But they will also remember the little things, like playing poker and drinking root beer in building one, making white spaghetti, doing the soduku together in the morning on the back porch, long discussions about who was a better boxer, Muhammed Ali or Joe Frazier, and paddle boat rides to treasure island. Those are such amazing memories.

You continued to be amazing throughout your battle with cancer, never complaining, always knowing that a cure was just around the corner. Some people might say that you lost your battle with cancer, but you didn’t. You are in the most perfect place now, with all of the others that you have gone before you throughout the years. You are all singing and dancing together. There is no pain, no tubes, no fat free sausage, skim milk, or reduced fat cheese! Everything is amazingly perfect.

And what did your cancer give to us? It gave us time to cherish every single minute of the past two and half years with you. We took nothing for granted, making sure that we enjoyed every meal, every vacation, every conversation as if it were the last. Your battle taught us to never give up, always be positive, and always keep everything in perspective. Until your last breath, you were amazing!

We will miss you, Dad, more than we can even imagine. And we thank you for the most amazing journey. As we look around this church today, there is not one person whose life you didn’t touch in some way. People have come from across the street and across the country to say good bye, to remember, and to celebrate your amazing life. Not bad for a kid from Waverly Street! Amazing!