Dad's Eulogy

Dads Eulogy June 18, 2014

On behalf of our family, thank you for being here today to pay your respects and help us say good bye to our Dad.

Our Dad was a man who seemingly had everything to live for and there is a lesson to be learned in this tragedy.

To my brother Dave and my sister Jodi:

Our Dad had three incredible children. Each of talented, educated, successful, and devoted …..in our own individual ways.

You need to hear that.

Our Dad had six awesome grandchildren; beautiful, brilliant, talented, and so far…everyone college educated. Jackson is yet to graduate from high school. He loved each one of you and never failed to tell anyone who would listen, of your triumphs no matter how big or how small.

In fact …If you are setting here today, you have probably heard a story about John Tolberts children or grandchildren. He was extremely proud of each one of us.

You need to hear that.

Our Dad was a kind, loving, decent man who believed in the basic values of hard work, honesty,  and family. Every person who visited here today confirmed that about Our Dad. In my 59 years I have never heard an unkind word said about John Tolbert.

Growing up, we had everything we needed and most of what we wanted. Our Dad worked two jobs for many years in order for us to have a nice home, two cars in the driveway, a family vacation, and presents under the tree at Christmas.

Our Dad was a fair disciplinarian; I should know. He had a wooden paddle that hung on the wall of the kitchen that said, ‘Made especially for the butts of Debi, Jodi, and Dave.’ We were taught to follow the rules, we were taught to respect our parents and grandparents, and we were taught the value of hard work, modeled by both of our parents.

Our Dad never really gave bad advice….at least not to me. He would support every decision we made…regardless of whether he thought it was the wrong decision or not…he supported our right to make it , then he was there to help pick up the pieces when that decision turned out to be less than productive for us. Our Dad believed in his children and our unlimited possibilities as human beings.  I remember once, telling him that I had always felt like the black sheep of the family…he put his hand on my shoulder, and said, ‘no Deb, you are the tie-dyed one.’  He understood my free spirit. He understood that each of his children were individuals and he loved us accordingly. And when each of us became parents, we did the same thing for our children because it was the way we were raised.

My Dad was honest, fair, and could do no wrong even when he tried. Here’s an example:

A stray dog, who we named Bandit, found its way to our backdoor. I don’t remember how long Bandit stayed around before Mom decided he needed to go. I guess Dad was instructed to take Bandit out into the country and find him a new home so to speak.  And since Dad always took instruction from Mom, Bandit was loaded into the car and driven away. Well, to make a long story short…Bandit beat Dad back home. In fact, he was waiting for him by the back door , tail wagging, when Dad pulled in the drive. Now, either Bandit was smarter than we thought he was, or Dad didn’t really take him as far into the country as he was instructed. Whatever the reason, Bandit stayed with the Tolbert family on Harmon street until he died of old age.

Our Dad was a devoted husband for nearly 50 years. His devotion as a partner extended beyond my Mothers death in 2006. Dad was just as devoted to the memory of our Mother after her death as he was to the person he married all those years ago. He never considered re-marrying, it was out of the question. He never even considered a companion for dinner or a movie…although we all tried to encourage him to seek companionship.

Our Dad was a staunch Union man; devoted to preserving the jobs of countless men and women who were Union Members. My Dad BELIEVED in that system, tirelessly defending the right to work, and better working conditions.  I remember in the mid-60’s, Dad was offered a supervisor’s job with Bell Fibre. It would have required a move to Grand Rapids Michigan. He piled us all in the car, we drove to Grand Rapids to spend the weekend….and we all hated it. My Dad did not take that job; he spent 43 years as a blue collar worker instead, because he was all about keeping his family happy.

Our Dad loved to fish; he taught each one of us how to fish and he made sure each one of his grandchildren learned as well. He had a wall of pictures in his garage, right by the back door, featuring each of , triumphiantly holding our catch. 

Our Dad was passionate about party politics at a time when it was okay to BE passionate about party politics. Our Dad believed in the Democratic process, he believed in democracy, and believed in the American Way, the Great Society, and Camelot. Our Dad worked relentlessly to help many local politicians get elected…Our Dad rubbed shoulders with history. I remember sitting on the dias when Robert Kennedy came to Marion during the 1968 Indiana Primary. I remember just before he took the stage, he leaned into my Dad, so Dad could give him direction or advice…..1968 was a very turbulent time in our nations history. A few months after that campaign stop in Marion, Robert Kennedy was assassinated. My sister is the keeper of the scrapbook that was created of the 1968 Presidential campaign and our Dad’s legacy ….Our Dad rubbed shoulders with history.

Our Dad was a good dancer…did you know that??  I grew up in a household that valued music, and people who liked to dance. When I was real small, before my brother was born, I remember Saturday afternoons were spent watching American Bandstand. Mom and Dad would do the Twist and the Stroll. Later, after we moved to Harmon Street,  He and my mom would get together with two other couples every other weekend or so…there was drinking, dancing, lots of card playing….and a good time was had by all. I loved to watch them hand dance to the music of the /50/s….then later, he and Mom square danced. But somewhere along the way, the music, and the dancing stopped.

Our Dad was an artist…his drawings of horses were incredible. I bet you didn’t know that, because he never pursued the talent. My sister got that gift.

Our Dad was a craftsman; he could build anything….no directions, no plans. He built a playhouse, swing sets, a garage….he was talented in many hands on ways.

Our Dad had a devoted church family; he received weekly invitations to share a meal and fellowship. Whenever I came home, I would attend a Sunday service with Dad, and it was heartwarming to see how the members of Grace Community Church embraced our Dad. And we thank you for that.

Which keeps bringing  us back to the question of ‘why?’

I believe Our Dad died of a soul sickness; and here is the lesson for us , myself, my brother, my sister, and our children…...

LIFE IS NOT A SPECTATOR SPORT. LIFE IS A FULL CONTACT SPORT THAT REQUIRES EACH ONE OF US TO GET UP EACH DAY, TAKE LIFE BY THE SHOULDERS AND SHAKE EVERY OUNCE OF ENJOYMENT OUT OF THAT DAY THAT WE POSSIBLY CAN.

Our Dad stopped doing all of the things I just talked about that fed his soul. And we who are left wondering ‘why,’ need to remember what we need to do in order to feed our soul.

We are not meant to walk thru this life without a partner. ‘Our prison is walking through this world all alone.’

We need people in our lives with whom we can be as open as possible. Find that one person who lifts you up, who sheds light on the darkness, who supports your efforts, who embraces your quirkiness, who makes you laugh every day, and who loves you unconditionally.  To love another involves courage and risk.  And if that person dies or moves on, you need to find another.

Develop and nurture a circle of friends. Share a meal and fellowship with those friends frequently. Friends  who are loyal, friends who will listen to your troubles, friends who provide support, and friends who will laugh with you when times are good, and cry with you when times are not so good. 

Discover your passion and follow your bliss. What are you passionate about? Find that which FEEDS your soul. For me it is my motorcycle, my writing, and my photography. If I’m not engaged in one of those three things frequently, a soul sickness starts to set it. To relieve that sickness, I need to ride, I need to take photos or I need to write.

And you will never know passion without risk; try new things, be willing to fail, be willing to receive criticism…only then will you find that which feeds your soul.

Find a cause that you believe strongly in, then devote some energy to making a change. Vow to make the world a better place before you leave it.

Get out of yourself and extend a hand to another. If I am helping others, I don’t have time to focus on my own problems.  Perform random acts of kindness.

Develop a spiritual connection with the God of your understanding. Then trust the process. Discover the beauty, the wonder, and the magic of the world around you. Use your imagination. In his treatise on The Care of the Soul, Thomas Moore writes:

‘Its my conviction that slight shifts in imagination have more impact on living than major efforts at change…deep changes in life follow movements in imagination.’

And lastly, I challenge you to DANCE….dance to the rhythm of the universe, dance to the music in your head, plug in the iPod and dance like no one is watching.

If you stop doing the things that you love, the things that feed your soul, …like our Dad did,  then the sickness invades , the sadness sets in, the hopelessness engulfs you, and the darkness wins out.

Our job from this point forward is to practice acceptance.

Acceptance does not require that we understand.

Because we do not.

Acceptance does not require the answer to the question ‘why?’

Because there is no answer.

Acceptance does not require our approval.

When I have acceptance in my heart, there is no room for anger.

When I have acceptance in my heart, there is no room for resentment, which are just hardened chunks of anger waiting to come out sideways.

Acceptance allows me to move through the universe without chafing.

Without bumping up against the hardships, the ugliness, or the angst.

The act of acceptance is unconditional love.

Acceptance allows me to be at peace with me, at peace with you, at peace with decisions made by others, and at peace with my place in the Universe.

And here is something from that ‘other’ Big Book for us to hang onto:

Acceptance is the answer to all of my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation…some fact of my life…unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.’ 

And if you cannot find acceptance of Our Dad’s choice, then you need to pray for the willingness to accept.

The Native Americans of the Western Plains, and the Inuit Indians of Canada left rock groupings call Inukshuks to mark a path. The Inukshuks would indicate to fellow travelers that ‘they were on the right path,’ or indicate where travelers could find food and lodging. In modern times, the Inukshuk, often in the form of a man, simply indicates that a traveler or visitor is welcome. The day my brother called to tell me our Dad was dead, I was in Colorado Springs ….I chose to make the challenging ride to the summit of Pikes Peak, and on our way up, I stopped to make an Inukshuk and say a prayer for the spirit of or Dad.  Here is the prayer from the Pueblos:

Hold on to what is good,

Even if it’s a handful of Earth.

Hold on to what you believe

Even if it’s a tree that stands by itself.

Hold onto what you must do

Even if it’s a long way from here.

Hold onto your life

Even if its easier to let go.

Hold onto my hand

Even if someday I will be gone away from you.

We love you Dad.

We will practice acceptance as we contemplate our loss.

We will practice acceptance of your choice and respect your right to make it…as you always did of our choices.

We will trust that you are truly free from the pain.

We will trust that you are finally on the right path.