In honor of my father’s
recent passing, I am publishing a slightly modified version of his eulogy. His five children each read a section. We miss him dearly but will always remember,
and be guided by, his poetic life.
On behalf of our Mom and entire family, thank you all for
being here with us today.
We particularly want to thank you Father Arbel for all you
have done. Father Arbel drove to
Sacramento on his day off last week to be with us and give our dad Last Rights.
You were a source of great strength to us and we truly appreciate it.
And Father Miles – you know how much our Dad loved you. Thank you for being here today and for your
kind words. And for Father Tassone and
both Father Bradys we thank you for concelebrating this Mass for our Father.
Our Dad was a good-hearted and morally centered man. He lived a hard working, simple, and honest
life. What many of you may not know is
was how much he loved poetry. He could
recite long poems from memory. He would
often pay us a few dollars to try to memorize them – but we were never as good.
So today we honor him by drawing on lines from some of his
favorite poems. These are lines that he
would say again and again to us throughout our lives. We think they bear witness to his wisdom.
This line was written
by one of our Dad’s favorite poets – Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
“More things are
wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.”
Our Dad knew the importance of prayer. It wasn’t easy raising 5 children, so trust
us, he needed prayer, lots of it. He was
a devout Catholic.
Dad grew up just down the street from the church in Nevada
City. His first job as a young boy was
to ring the church bell, which he did for several years. He rang The Angelus every day – which meant
ringing the bells three times a day: at 6
am, at noon and again in the evening at 6 pm.
Every time we went to Nevada City, he would show us where he carved his
initials in the bannister of the stairs leading up to the bell.
After telling this story to Father Arbel, he said he has
long wanted to have the bell rope of this church extend from the loft to the vestibule
floor. So this week, to honor our
Father, the vestibule ceiling was opened so that the rope
now extends down. They say that when a door closes, a window opens. With our dad, ceilings also open!
We think it is no coincidence that Father’s name is
“Arbel”. So, we hope that you stop and think
of our dad every time you hear these bells, “Our bells”, ring.
Dad always enjoyed being in the outdoors. Be it trout
fishing on a mountain stream or hunkered down in a duck blind. He
especially enjoyed hunting deer near a place called Saddleback Lookout, located
just north of Downieville in the Sierras. He and his good friend would go ahead of the rest of us to secure a camp so
that when we showed up on Friday night, the camp would have already been
set up. Over the years the two of them would plan to leave just a bit
earlier than the year before. So when at first they left...say...early
Friday morning or perhaps Thursday afternoon, they could, in later years,
be seen leaving town as early as Tuesday morning... to ensure of
course, they got the best camp. But who could blame them really, it's a
beautiful spot and we had some great times up there.
One year I took the liberty of having
a gold cup engraved with the names of those hunters (and dogs mind you)
who were no longer with us. And on it, a short poem was also engraved which I'd
like to read to you today.
Here's to those who have gone before us
They join us now in spirit.
And here's to the hounds whose bark echoes still
If you listen you can hear it.
A toast to them, to you and I
May we all be remembered well.
We'll meet again on this mountain with a saddle
And oh what stories we will tell
Here’s a line – not
from a famous poet – but from Dad himself.
“Your mother is a
Saint. "
Our dad said this all the time – over and over. And, we are pretty sure he is right. Our father loved our mom. They were a good team and worked side by
side, mom doing much of the books and invoices and dad managing the rest of the
business. They were devoted parents to
all of us.
Theirs was a true love, a real partnership in marriage. Despite all of their time together, we never
once saw them argue.
But now...back to a real poet...Dylan Thomas shared the poem:
"Do not go gently into
that good night. Rage, rage against the
dying of the light."
In keeping with his character, our dad did not go gently
into that good night. He was a fighter to
the very end.
We are so thankful to everyone who helped our family during his illnesses over the years. He received such excellent care by family members, Firemen, Paramedics, nurses and doctors in this community and at UC Davis Medical Center. We extend a very special thanks to those who helped our Dad in the business that was so important to him. For his customers, vendors and those who worked with him over the years, he had nothing but respect and admiration for each and every person who touched his professional life.
We thank you all for coming today. And, sorry Governor, while we truly appreciate
you coming to share these services with us, you are not the most distinguished
guest today. Sitting next to you is
Father Brady who was our family priest for years. He and Monsignor McGarry meant the world to
our father and we thank Father Brady for traveling from Sacramento to be with
us all today and for all you have done for this church and community over the
years.
We would like to extend a special thank you to all who have
been here for us over the past week and in advance for those we hope will look
in on our mom going forward as he did for his friends’ widows over the
years. For those who visited at the
hospital, and for the many food, flowers and donations and for being here today
we thank you. Some have traveled across
the country to celebrate his life and we are truly honored. Our sisters have decided that they would love
to move back to town after seeing how the community rallies together! And, as dad would say about that: God help us all, everyone!
We thank this man, now in God’s hands, for his poetic life and for the lessons he gave us through it.
...Remembrances from the juncture of a poetic and well-lived life.
