The Eulogy I Wrote for Dad
I gave this eulogy at my dad’s funeral today. Last night the wake filled Ocean Township with cars and people waiting to come and visit with my dad. Some waited over an HOUR! Friends I haven’t seen I was a kid came! Friends flew in, and of course the Cousin Armada from both sides held well. His legacy is tremendous and extremely well deserved. He was never abusive, an addict, a liar, a money launderer, an international bank thief!—nothing!’, anything. He was a bit of a hermit as he aged and he didn’t handle anxiety well and he could be cranky at times. But he was still pretty much magical. I cannot fucking believe he is gone. I’m so goddamned angry. I’m so goddamned sad. I will wait for the rest of my dad for him to come bounding down the steps.
Eulogy
Thank you all so much for being here today. My dad would be shocked at how many of you showed up. Im going to share a few memories of my dad. As a young child, my dad worked a lot and traveled extensively, but he tried to always make it home for bedtime. I’ve known since I can remember about how parents love affair but in particular, I remember that one night I was reading a Babysitter’s club book and read the word “dignity.” I didn’t know what it meant, and my dad explained it to me and then added, with meaning: dignity is your mom. She lives her life with it. I never forgot that. And although their kissing grossed me out as a kid, I recall seeing my friends’ parents barely even touch each other. I knew what we had was special.
Whenever we traveled, even if it was just down to LBI, my dad would always spontaneously find an adventures for me, him and Greg. My mom and sister would roll their eyes and stay in the car during many a road trip when we’d pull over to check out the waves, look over a breathtaking expanse in a crazy storm, or, for one unfortunate time for all of us, sit through a 2 hour tour of the Hoover Dam, which he of course had just read a 500 page book about. The man was built for living and he instilled that in us. One of my favorite things he told me was that I was a cool chick who liked to have adventures; I didn’t have much fear, and I was always game to get out of the car and explore.
Treating us to a million road trip vacations was either delightful or deranged, depending on our ages. I remember a dramatic trip to Assaqetegue Island in Virginia. I called it HorseShit Island as he made us tour the island, looking out for wild ponies, of which I had an extremely limited interest in. But he’d timed our trip wrong with the patterns of the animals and I don’t remember seeing a single wild horse run free in Chincoteague. Another valiant effort was a trip to Hershey Park; we arrived there, stoked to explore the amusement park, only to find out it didn’t open for 2 more weeks. So my dad let us girls have an expensive and fancy spa day and has regretted exposing me to that lifestyle ever since.
Aside from our road trips to Maine and North Carolina and Kiawah Island, one of his greatest gifts to my siblings and cousins and I were our summers on Long Beach Island. We were there way before Taylor Swift made it cool. He worked hard all year to give us 6 weeks or so in a rental house full of cousins, aunts, uncles and my grandma. It was down on LBI that on one day, I saw my dad laugh the hardest I’ve ever seen him laugh, before or after. My dad was, as always, swimming and boogie boarding in the ocean with a bunch of my cousins, siblings and me. My mom, finally overtaken by the late August heat, agreed to set foot into the ocean. We could all barely hold in our shock but it was a nice, calm day and she laid on a float as small waves bobbed her up and down. And then, coming closer and closer, we saw it. An enormous swell was approaching and my dad didn’t even have time to warn his floating queen. The wave demolished my mom, flipping her float upside down. I will never forget the accusatory “AGHHH GERARD!!!!” scream as my mom plummeted to the ocean floor. (All 3 feet of it.) My dad, siblings and cousins and I popped out of the water, choking on saltwater because we were laughing so hard. My mom had lost her $5 Bradlees sunglasses and indignantly dragged herself and her floatie out of the water. That was almost 30 years ago and I don’t think she’s gone back in the ocean since. My dad loved telling that story to the grandkids and he told me 2 weeks ago that he was going to teach them to boogie board this summer.
As I grew older, he began taking me on college tours. He even picked out my eventual school for me and took me to NYC for a visit. I’ll forever cherish those road trips between the two of us; and all the Bruce Springsteen, John Prine and, fine, some of my Hanson that we played along the way.
Growing up I saw more and more of my dad as an actual person and not just my folk hero. He constantly gave me career advice, whether I wanted it or not. The only time he questioned my quote unquote alternative lifestyle was when I moved 4 times within 2 years in Manhattan and he said I needed to get a husband because he was “too old for this shit”.
I have so many more memories, the Halloween parties he threw to make up for a rough time I was having with friends, the Christmases and Christmas Eve, and all the events he planned and executed fully. He was a pillar in the lives of so many of us in the room; I cannot overstate how much he’ll be missed.
He wasn’t one for golf or trips with his friends. He said he wanted to spend all his time with us. We were so happy to be with him too. I love you, Dad. And I’ll miss you every minute of every day, for the rest of my life.