My Eulogy: Words that inadequately try and encompass what he meant to me

This was the eulogy I gave at my father’s funeral. After writing the blog post about his death, I frantically searched for the sweet journal I penned these words in just after he died. I sat on the closed crooked toilet in my bathroom and wrote desperately to get the words on paper.

This was the result.

A blue worn recliner and drawers full of greeting cards from past Father’s Days. Size 7 1/2 shoes and a David and Goliath tie. A warm smile and Diet Pepsi.

He was the epitome of selflessness to me.

Through countless treatments and several hospital rooms I only heard “Thank you, I really appreciate that” and “I’m fine.”

I saw tears of longing as he spoke of his church family, tears of gratitude with each gift, each spoken word, and tears of joy as he miraculously walked me down the aisle.

He is my father.

The man who taught me not to sweat the small stuff, that Freddy the elephant shut the door to Noah’s Ark, and that I was loved just the way I turned out to be.

He is the man who dreamed the dream of a Family Life Center, who tirelessly preached the ABC’s of salvation, and made thousands of house calls to his congregation.

He is the man who rocked me to sleep every night – who told me stories and taught me about Jesus – the man he has asked and prayed for me to love since I was only a glimmer in his eye.

When Daddy told me he was sick, he said several things.

1. He was blessed to have lived such a life

2. We had time to make memories

3. Even though all things aren’t necessarily good, all things work together for good.

Well, I have been blessed to see such a life lived before me. I have memories that I will forever lock away, and though right now I don’t always see the good in Daddy’s death, I can see the good in him walking the streets of gold, free of leukemia, weakness, transfusions, chemotherapy and suffering.

He is free.

I was blessed to be with Daddy the 24 hours before his death. And even then, with tubes and morphine, he was asking for scripture to be read.

As I had been taken care of for 23 years, I had the pleasure of taking care of my Daddy.

Right before he died, I sang “Blessed Assurance,” “How Great Thou Art,” and “Amazing Grace.” And though it was difficult for him, he kept repeating


And I know he’s repeating that to the angels and to his Savior as the Lord says,

“My child, well done.”