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Hey all...I know I am not very active here anymore with the exception of the NFL, but I wanted to check in and update you on a major life event.
My father passed away on Thursday. He'd been in poor health for a few years and when the writing was on the wall, he opted not to go on machinery, etc., to sustain his life. He went out on his own time, in his sleep, with all of his family and friends at his side. Lucky guy!
I hope everyone reflects on the brevity of life and makes sure not to leave "unfinished business" with their loved ones.
The fact that he and I got to say our ultimate goodbyes and end life on exceptional terms is wonderful and I highly recommend it for everyone who needs to do so. Don't wait.
Here's the eulogy I delivered for him--it might give you an idea of what kind of person he was. The guys at FFZ would have loved him, I can assure you!
***********************************
I want to thank you for all the support you have given me over the years, support that covers so many areas, I cannot even hope to name them, but will attempt a few: emotional, financial, educational, spiritual, romantic, professional...so many! Many times when I’ve been down and ready to give up on myself, you have been there to firmly remind me that I am a good man, and that a good man strives on, even when things seem pointless or hopeless.
I think perhaps you were born an age too late--the world does not seem to appreciate the strength and intense purpose you represent, and for that I am sorry. I see you more as a pioneer, a soldier, a leader of men in trying times--anything that would require physical, mental and spiritual conviction and fortitude. But you took on your less glamorous responsibilities with resolve and class, and for that I thank and greatly respect you.
In a time where Honor, Loyalty, Chivalry and Dedication have become little more than antiquated terms, he always seemed to not only understand these concepts, but to strive to live by them.
I am confident he would have been more comfortable swinging a battle axe with his Teutonic ancestors than shoe-horned into an era of suits and ties, business lunches and false platitudes. He was the picture of a warrior in an time where few clear battles were left to fight.
Though we are not given the option of WHEN we live, we always have the choice of HOW we live. In an era when few people seem capable of setting a standard for themselves beyond the minimum expectation, he never compromised his personal values.
I have seen him admonish perfect strangers for selfishness and poor manners, I have heard him voice the strongest of opinions without regard for his audience, witnessed countless examples of his iron will & unflinching standards.
He is a man of meticulous care and measured approach—a linear man with an uncommon depth of character and a fierce, instinctive knowledge of what is right and what is wrong, who never left room in the margins for vacillation or hesitation. Like me, his acquaintances are few—he reserved his time and his friendship for the highest caliber of people. He is not a man given to flowery speech or dramatics, but most assuredly you always know that you are loved by him, and emphatically supported in every endeavor.
My father is the rarest of breeds: a true man’s man.
If you think of Clint Eastwood, Steve McQueen or Robert Mitchum, you are in the right ballpark. Better yet, think of John Wayne and you are getting closer to the mark.
It is safe to say, that here is a man who has, without failure, possessed the absolute courage of his convictions.
Who among us can say we have never edited our stance for our audience or compromised our beliefs because we fear an unpopular response? I personally cannot.
I can not think of anyone, aside from my father, who displayed this rarest of qualities.
He is a powerful disciplinarian—one who teaches principles, practices, and rules and then enforces those rules.
This led to some classic scenes of the young buck and the old bull, locking horns in what invariably proved to be ill advised confrontations on my part; yet from these natural conflicts sprang the greatest of gifts: I have become a man who fears no other man and very little else in life. Because of my father I have been blessed with the ability to speak in public, perform on the stage and voice unpopular opinions. The pure pleasure that these normally terrifying acts have given me is due directly to his influence and example.
I think it quite fitting that the name “Bernhard” means “courage of a bear”. You epitomized your family name, never backing down and never giving up. Where a lesser person would have found it easy and even acceptable to set down his burden and give up trying, you have always forged ahead with resolve. In your life and in your passing, you were the man of the long stride, the man of the set jaw, the man who truly looked death in the eye and did not blink. At all times your concern was not for yourself, but for your family—though my father may have railed away at the idiocy of others with unusual passion, upon reflection, I cannot recall a time he pitied himself or sought pity from others. He was, in his way, one of those people who never seemed to need comforting, but always gave comfort.
In his final moments, he insured, purely through his strength of will, that each of us was given the opportunity to speak with him in private and in simple, loving terms. He took time to speak with us pointedly and without elaboration of his deep affection and monumental concern for his family. He truly gave me the greatest gift a father can give his son: he spoke to me of his pride and his thanks for having me as a son, the words that all sons, from all times, have longed to hear from their fathers.
In closing, I would like to share a poem that seems to be the kind of message he would want shared with all of us today.
It is by
Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918),
Canon of St.Paul´s Cathedral
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room,
I am I and you are you,
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used,
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow,
Laugh as we always laughed,
At the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect,
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
It is the same that it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind,
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval,
Somewhere very near,
Just around the corner, all is well.
I love you, Dad.
My father passed away on Thursday. He'd been in poor health for a few years and when the writing was on the wall, he opted not to go on machinery, etc., to sustain his life. He went out on his own time, in his sleep, with all of his family and friends at his side. Lucky guy!
I hope everyone reflects on the brevity of life and makes sure not to leave "unfinished business" with their loved ones.
The fact that he and I got to say our ultimate goodbyes and end life on exceptional terms is wonderful and I highly recommend it for everyone who needs to do so. Don't wait.
Here's the eulogy I delivered for him--it might give you an idea of what kind of person he was. The guys at FFZ would have loved him, I can assure you!
***********************************
I want to thank you for all the support you have given me over the years, support that covers so many areas, I cannot even hope to name them, but will attempt a few: emotional, financial, educational, spiritual, romantic, professional...so many! Many times when I’ve been down and ready to give up on myself, you have been there to firmly remind me that I am a good man, and that a good man strives on, even when things seem pointless or hopeless.
I think perhaps you were born an age too late--the world does not seem to appreciate the strength and intense purpose you represent, and for that I am sorry. I see you more as a pioneer, a soldier, a leader of men in trying times--anything that would require physical, mental and spiritual conviction and fortitude. But you took on your less glamorous responsibilities with resolve and class, and for that I thank and greatly respect you.
In a time where Honor, Loyalty, Chivalry and Dedication have become little more than antiquated terms, he always seemed to not only understand these concepts, but to strive to live by them.
I am confident he would have been more comfortable swinging a battle axe with his Teutonic ancestors than shoe-horned into an era of suits and ties, business lunches and false platitudes. He was the picture of a warrior in an time where few clear battles were left to fight.
Though we are not given the option of WHEN we live, we always have the choice of HOW we live. In an era when few people seem capable of setting a standard for themselves beyond the minimum expectation, he never compromised his personal values.
I have seen him admonish perfect strangers for selfishness and poor manners, I have heard him voice the strongest of opinions without regard for his audience, witnessed countless examples of his iron will & unflinching standards.
He is a man of meticulous care and measured approach—a linear man with an uncommon depth of character and a fierce, instinctive knowledge of what is right and what is wrong, who never left room in the margins for vacillation or hesitation. Like me, his acquaintances are few—he reserved his time and his friendship for the highest caliber of people. He is not a man given to flowery speech or dramatics, but most assuredly you always know that you are loved by him, and emphatically supported in every endeavor.
My father is the rarest of breeds: a true man’s man.
If you think of Clint Eastwood, Steve McQueen or Robert Mitchum, you are in the right ballpark. Better yet, think of John Wayne and you are getting closer to the mark.
It is safe to say, that here is a man who has, without failure, possessed the absolute courage of his convictions.
Who among us can say we have never edited our stance for our audience or compromised our beliefs because we fear an unpopular response? I personally cannot.
I can not think of anyone, aside from my father, who displayed this rarest of qualities.
He is a powerful disciplinarian—one who teaches principles, practices, and rules and then enforces those rules.
This led to some classic scenes of the young buck and the old bull, locking horns in what invariably proved to be ill advised confrontations on my part; yet from these natural conflicts sprang the greatest of gifts: I have become a man who fears no other man and very little else in life. Because of my father I have been blessed with the ability to speak in public, perform on the stage and voice unpopular opinions. The pure pleasure that these normally terrifying acts have given me is due directly to his influence and example.
I think it quite fitting that the name “Bernhard” means “courage of a bear”. You epitomized your family name, never backing down and never giving up. Where a lesser person would have found it easy and even acceptable to set down his burden and give up trying, you have always forged ahead with resolve. In your life and in your passing, you were the man of the long stride, the man of the set jaw, the man who truly looked death in the eye and did not blink. At all times your concern was not for yourself, but for your family—though my father may have railed away at the idiocy of others with unusual passion, upon reflection, I cannot recall a time he pitied himself or sought pity from others. He was, in his way, one of those people who never seemed to need comforting, but always gave comfort.
In his final moments, he insured, purely through his strength of will, that each of us was given the opportunity to speak with him in private and in simple, loving terms. He took time to speak with us pointedly and without elaboration of his deep affection and monumental concern for his family. He truly gave me the greatest gift a father can give his son: he spoke to me of his pride and his thanks for having me as a son, the words that all sons, from all times, have longed to hear from their fathers.
In closing, I would like to share a poem that seems to be the kind of message he would want shared with all of us today.
It is by
Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918),
Canon of St.Paul´s Cathedral
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room,
I am I and you are you,
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used,
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow,
Laugh as we always laughed,
At the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect,
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
It is the same that it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind,
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval,
Somewhere very near,
Just around the corner, all is well.
I love you, Dad.
It's always sad when a person one loves leaves this life. Thankfully I understand you two managed to make a worthy end of his life. I know you'll miss him badly, but I hope you in those moments can manage to see what you had together, all the positive memories; I hope you will get through the next days, weeks and months and live on, not without him, but with him in your heart.
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