Some days I need to go back and read what my uncle spoke at my grandpa’s funeral. Today was one of those mornings.
"And yet despite all the tomfoolery there was a serious side. A gentle side, a giving side, a caring side. My aunt and sister touched on it.
As a father- something more has to be said.
Too rich, too deep, too much, too personal, too near, no words, not enough time. Impossible to capture-it’s beyond my talents.
I can only offer two statements, his and mine, you can fill in the rest.
Three months ago he was having a tough one, didn’t look good. He was foggy and glassy eyed. I figured it was time to talk.
I sat with him and asked if the worse came to pass if there was anything he wanted me to say for him.
Without hesitation he said
“You tell Rich, Mike, Anita, Jeannie, Patti, Amy and little AJ, you tell them (wagging his finger at me) I wanted them to know that I am so very *bleeping* proud of each and every one of them.”
I scribbled it down. I looked at him, saw huge liquid pools of tears cascading from his eyes.
And gently asked him about Franklyn (our dear little brother who died so many years go) any words for him?
He looked at me with a blank stare
And snapped Rob, you idiot, I’ll tell him myself.
I was stunned, then I smiled, I got it
all was there right again….
Pops was still there, still quicker, as always, one step ahead.
And as for me all I can say in return is: me too Pops… Me too.”