My father passed away on October 8th and the last few weeks have been incredibly difficult for myself and my family.
Today, we are saying goodbye to him and I figured I could post my eulogy for him so that you can see how important he was to me.
I view my life in three phases: Dennis, Den, and Dad
Dennis came into my life when I was six years old. My first memory of him is playing a board game when I threw a tantrum, because I lost, and flipped over the game. A few months ago, I asked him if he remembered anything like that happening and he said that he didn’t recall anything like that after he met us. That was a thing that I truly loved about Dennis, my first memory of him was because I was having a difficult time dealing with a new father figure coming into my life and he was kind to me (when I was being a little shit,) and when I asked him about it later it wasn’t as much of a memory for him, because that is just who he was.
As the years went by, Dennis became Den, and we began to spend more time together. I recall when we were moving back to Wisconsin from New York that he sent me (and I believe both of my sisters) a letter where he drew a picture of the duplex that we would be moving to, in Deerfield, so that we knew what our new home would be like. When we arrived, the picture was a perfect representation and we found him sitting in the living room watching an episode of The Odd Couple.
TV and movies became a huge part of our relationship and as the years went by, we spent many days (and nights) watching TV shows and movies. In fact, Den took me, as a 10 year old, (along with his son Sean) to my first R-rated movie, Bachelor Party. I’m not sure how many other 10 year olds got to see a donkey die from a cocaine overdose, but honestly… I was 10… I had no idea what was really going on in that film, but it’s still something that makes me smile when I think of Den. And just to let you know, he also took me to see the Last Starfighter and Dune in that same year… so it wasn’t just R-Rated comedy that he was exposing me to.
Over the years, TV and film became a big part of what we would do together. Even as a kid, I would stay up late at night with Den and watch Johnny Carson and Late Night with David Letterman and after that was finished, we would watch a movie afterwards, get up, go to school or work and do it all again the next night. Comedy became a huge part of who I am and what I loved and it kept me trying to make Den (and my family) laugh.
Through the years Den introduced me to the works of Mel Brooks, Monty Python, the Abrams brothers (who made the Kentucky Fried Movie, Airplane, and the Naked Gun series,) and countless others.
But it wasn’t just funny movies for the two of us. Den and I loved to watch so many different types of films. We watched Predator and Aliens so many times that people (to this day) are annoyed that I can quote them while watching along. He was the first person to show me Citizen Kane. He was the first person to introduce me to foreign films and helped foster my love of watching the works of Akira Kurosawa and the films of Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. In my home, I have hundreds of films on VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray and even Laserdisc, because of the wonderful world that he introduced me to.
During all these years of watching entertainment together, Den married my Mom and he became my Dad. It took me a while to be able to call him that, but that’s who he always was.
A few years after they got married, I can recall another memory of him…
I was either 16 or 17 and I was being a typical smart-ass kid, positive that I knew everything and not wanting to listen to my parents anymore. I don’t remember what the argument was about, but I swore at my Mom and Den yelled at me. It was the only time that I can ever remember him raising his voice like that and it stuck with me. Not because I was being punished, but because he told me that I shouldn’t ever forget what my mother did for me and never disrespect her like that.
In the weeks before he passed, I was able to tell my Dad how much he meant to me and that everything that I think is good in me (as a friend, as a husband, and as a father) is because of him and the things he taught me (and… alright… I guess my Mom played a part in that too.) But one of the best things that anyone has ever said to me was when he told me that he was proud to have me as his son.
My Dad was there with me for all of the most important moments of my life, from the day that I married my wife to the days that my children were born.
With my children, he spent so much time with them teaching them his gifts of creativity via music and art and, yes, his love of movies too. Every time I see my kids pick up a pencil, pen, paint brush or play an instrument, I know that is part of my Dad inside of them living on to this day.
Throughout all of those years, I kept trying to keep my Dad smiling and laughing. There was nothing like hearing him laugh and it warms my heart just to think about it.
So, because of the shared love of comedy that my Dad and I have, I figured I would tell you my favorite joke, one that I don’t believe he ever heard…
A moth walks into a podiatrist’s office.
The podiatrist says, “How can I help you?”
The moth says, “Where should I start? Every day I go to work and I feel like I’m being taken advantage of. My boss holds this immense level of power and he lords it over me on a daily basis, making me do the most mundane tasks imaginable, all while reveling in the fact that I will never ascend any further for as long as I work there.”
“But that’s just the start, at home things are even worse… My daughter, Philomena has an incredibly complex array of mental and physical issues that create myriad challenges on a daily basis. My son, Balthasar, passed away this winter past, in the cold that took so many among us.”
“I wish that was all Doc, but every night I go to bed laying down next to this strange woman. A woman that I once loved, and who I believe once loved me, but now is repulsed by me in each waking moment of my tortuous existence.”
“All that and my father just died. Doc… I’m just not doing good.”
The podiatrist looks at the moth and says, “Well, I really don’t know where to begin. You have an incredibly challenging and difficult life that you have laid out before me, but I have to ask you one question. Why did you come to me?”
The moth says, “Well…. Your light was on.”
When I think about my Dad, I think of movies, music, art, creativity, and love. A friend of mine passed away earlier this year and a line from one of his favorite bands songs sticks in my head, “‘Cause the day’s no more the same without you.”
No day will ever be the same without my Dad, but when I think of him.. I remember his last words. “I love you all.”
When he spoke those words, I don’t think he was talking to those of us that were in the room, but it was a message to be shared with everyone. He may not have known you or met you or had a chance to watch a film with you, talk to you about his airship, or paint a picture with you, but he loved you. He loved us all and I loved him with all my heart.
I love you Dad. I always will.
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