Rest easy, Dad

We laid my dad to rest yesterday.
It was a beautiful day.
I did not doubt that it would be, but getting to the other side of it leaves me feeling such a sense of peace, as well as complete mental and physical exhaustion.
Truly a legendary man who deserved a memorable send-off.
Dad was blessed to have relatively good health up until the very end—living to 88 years of age.
He passed away on his 61st wedding anniversary, and exactly 27 years after his retirement began.
Retirement from a career that began as a butcher and concluded as a successful owner of supermarkets. He’d owned a total of 9 stores in his career.
His childhood was tough. When he was 3, his parents fled the poverty of the Ozark Mountains in Missouri in search of a better life in California. They moved to work in the citrus and stone fruit crops of the San Joaquin Valley.
He grew up in a broken home, where often he and his slightly older brother had to raise themselves.
After high school, he was drafted into the Army. The military fine-tuned a total sense of discipline and order, which was the center point, and secret of the success he achieved throughout his adult life.
The funeral was at the National Memorial Cemetery of Arizona, in North Phoenix, twenty-five minutes from Mom’s house.

I surprised my mom by picking her up in their 1988 Jaguar that they handed down to me. It’s still in remarkably pristine condition. It is a perfect example of how neat, orderly, and precise Dad kept every single thing around him.
Mom was overcome with happiness, and I felt such a sense of pride as we cruised to the cemetery together, with Dad’s remains in the urn box on the floorboard between Mom’s feet.
The service began promptly at 2PM, with a Military trumpeter playing Taps. Tears flowed.
Then a beautiful flag ceremony transpired, which concluded with the flag being presented to Mom.
Next came Deacon Richard from St Thomas More, the Catholic Church where Dad was baptized and confirmed over ten years ago. He did a wonderful job leading us in prayer and reminding us of what a beautiful place Dad had gone to for eternal rest.
I was the sole speaker. I’ve always been a comfortable storyteller on paper. In more recent years I have become comfortable talking and telling stories in front of people. So, nerves weren’t an issue, but I prayed that I could keep my emotions in check enough to say what I wanted to say.
At times I had to slow down, let the burst of emotion pass, and channel the focus and breathing skills I’ve learned in yoga. But for the most part, I held it together.
I was able to express what a legendary grocer, businessman, and family man Dad was while telling some of the lessons and wisdom I had learned from him.
He was a man from a different era. Where your word is your bond, and a handshake seals the deal.
I was able to give a sense of how his primary focus was on us, his family.
I told stories that showed both his brilliance, as well as his sense of humor. Plus, how much integrity and respect he garnered as a business leader.
An amazing story I shared was about what began as a bit of a contentious meeting with a customer of ours, civil rights leader Caesar Chavez. I will never forget the meeting ending with Caesar embracing Dad and telling him how much respect he had for Dad as a man, and how much he respected the way he did business.

Where I came closest to losing my composure was in telling how my parents sacrificed it all when I needed it most.
Fresh out of college, I was running one of our stores. My fiancé was killed in a car accident three weeks before her college graduation. I was shattered, and my life was stalled.
One day Dad excitedly came up with the idea of selling our stores in California and finding some stores across the country to buy.
He knew exactly what I needed and had no fear of making sure it successfully happened. An adventure of a lifetime ensued, as we flew to look at stores in Kansas, Louisiana, and Missouri. We finally settled on three Piggly Wiggly Supermarkets in Western Kentucky.
Dad was right. This change is exactly what I needed. My life moved forward from there.
Six months into the move, my good friend Shelly came to see me. Our relationship surprisingly changed during that visit.
Shelly and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary last year.
We had fun owning and operating those stores for five years before selling, and all of us moved to Arizona.

I spoke until nearly 2:30, and I am proud of how well it went.
In the front row were Mom and Shelly, along with our youngest son Taylor, and his girlfriend Hanna, and our oldest son Dylan, and his fiancé Ashley.
It’s a blessing that the boys were able to know their grandpa so well. Many of his valuable lessons are ingrained into them.
I’m grateful that my two cousins Pam and Susan flew in from California. They stayed with Mom for a couple of days and did so much good in lifting her spirits.
We were completely blown away and touched that two of Dad’s most key people at the store he owned the longest, walked up to us all as the funeral was about to begin. They made the eight-hour drive from Bakersfield, saying there’d be no way that they would have missed it. It was so special having them there.

We were all stunned when a military flyover happened slightly after the end of the service.
Most attendees navigated over to Mom’s house where we ended such a meaningful day with much good conversation.
While I was on my way to pick up Mom, I was getting my mind prepared by listening to Nick Cave—my deepest favorite singer.
A lyric suddenly struck me in his song, Joy.
“we’ve all had too much sorrow, now is the time for joy.”
It truly was an honor and a joy to celebrate a life so well lived.