We have a digital picture frame in our living room that gives me a bittersweet reminder each day. As I go past it, I see a myriad of pictures of my Dad, when he was little, as a young man, as a parent, and finally as a grandfather. I love seeing those pictures, it makes me smile each day, but it also gives me that twinge of pain, the fact that I'll never get to talk to him again, and the fact that I wasn't always the nicest to him at many times throughout my life. Once a loved one is gone, we have so many opportunities to remember and rehash those moments when we weren't at our best unfortunately.
Recently, one of my friends from college, Paul Paterra, lost his father, and he wrote a stunning tribute to his father. Paul is the writer I wish I was, he has made a very good career of it. It reminded me of the eulogy that I wrote for my Dad when he died, and it inspired me to publish that eulogy. As I noted to Paul, I hope that I can come close to doing his inspiration justice. As another note, my brother Jim also spoke at the eulogy, and he had so many other great tributes to my Dad, I kept thinking, "Man, I wish I would have said that". Jim reminded me what a great cheerleader our Dad was. He could take anything that we did, anything that happened, and turn it into a positive. He believed in us, he believed in his grandchildren, he was so proud of us, and he showed us and told us (and everyone else for that matter) all the time. I wish I would have said that, but I didn't, and this is what I did say:
While it is a time to mourn, it is also a time to celebrate. We are here to celebrate the life of William Lee McCullough, a great son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, co-worker, boss and friend. He has left a great legacy, and let us take time to celebrate that legacy. Let me do my best to express what he has meant to me, and what he has meant to all of us.
Now, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to you, oh Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. And in the immortal words of Davis Chappell, God has this. Amen.
I plan to take a great deal of this from one of my blog posts, although I’m not going to follow it exactly, which may throw some of you off that follow my blog religiously. As I look around the room, I don’t think that will be an issue.
Before I start, I have to share at least one story from my childhood in honor of Uncle Stan who will be getting a video of this ceremony. When I was little, I loved to listen to stories that my Dad and Uncle would tell from their childhood. They were, let’s just say, not the best boys in the world. They got in their share of scrapes. My uncle told the story of my Dad getting into a fight the one night with another young man, and my Dad knocked the guy down with one punch. My uncle said, “jump on him Bill, jump on him!” But my Dad, being the noble fighter, asked the young man if he had enough and let him get up. Unfortunately, what my uncle knew was the other guy was a boxer. My Dad said that he never saw all of the flurry of punches that hit him. Afterward, my Uncle said, “I told you that you should have jumped on him.” One of many stories I loved to hear from Uncle Stan and my Dad growing up.
For Father's Day a few years ago I bought my Father "Wisdom of Our Fathers" by the late Tim Russert. It has a picture in it of a good friend of mine, Dave Carr, with his father, so I told Dave about buying it. Dave asked if I had written my own "chapter" for my Dad, which I hadn't.
Now, when I wrote my Dad’s chapter, I wanted to focus on the truly important things he taught me. Just like most of us, I went through the normal learning process we all go through. When I was in high school and college, I was incredibly brilliant. Unfortunately, my Dad just wasn’t very smart at the time. I think my sons can relate to this. The funny thing was, when I got out of college and had to get an apartment, buy a car, raise a family, buy a house, fix up a house, I found out how incredibly smart my Dad was, and how really, really “less than brilliant” I was. But that is the normal process most of us go through. My Dad taught me so much more than that. So here was my chapter for my Dad.
Wisdom of My Father
Like so many of us, I have a great deal that I owe my Father in who I am and who I turned out to be. Some of the major things he taught me:
Honor Your Mother - I remember one Mother's Day when I was in high school, and I was having trouble with a girlfriend. We were supposed to take my Mother out for Mother's Day dinner, but I didn't want to go, I wanted to go over to my girlfriend's house to work out the problem. I knew my Dad would understand if I passed on taking Mom out to dinner. So I went into the bathroom where he was shaving, getting ready for the night, and asked him, "Dad, is it OK if I don't go tonight?" He turned and looked at me with a very clear and steady look, and simply said, "No." I knew that there would be no more discussion, no negotiation. Message heard loud and clear.
Love Your Children - My Father never claimed credit for this, but he had a saying or way of looking at things when you were down about money or your situation in life. He'd ask me, "Would you trade any of your children for a million dollars?". Well, of course not. He'd say, "You have four children, so I guess you have at least $4 million." Maybe very simplistic, but an easy way to keep focused on what's most important.
Pay It Forward – Jim and his family can understand the sacrifice this was, but many of you won’t quite understand the magnitude. Before I could drive, my Dad would drive me over to the high school for the basketball games and then pick me up hours later after the dance. Most of the time, this was during the winter, when the roads weren’t easy to travel. He never complained, well, at least to me, Mom might have heard about it. Years later, Sean needed a ride, similar situation, he took more time than he thought was reasonable, there was a girl involved of course, and he apologized all over himself. I told Sean that story and said, “it’s what my Dad did for me, and it’s what I’ll do for you.”
Value Everyone No Matter What They Do - Probably one of the greatest work lessons I've ever learned, and it's served me well, is to value everyone in the workforce. I remember him telling me, "Even if someone pushes a broom, if they work hard, you value them for what they do." One of the quickest ways someone would incur my wrath at work was if they would tell me they were "just a peon". I tend to be very easy going at work, but no matter what else was going on or what needed to be done, if someone ever said that to me, they would get a meeting and discussion on how valuable they were or are to the organization. Everyone, no matter what their position, contributes to the success of a company. Thanks to my Dad for first teaching me this lesson.
Pay It Forward – Jim and his family can understand the sacrifice this was, but many of you won’t quite understand the magnitude. Before I could drive, my Dad would drive me over to the high school for the basketball games and then pick me up hours later after the dance. Most of the time, this was during the winter, when the roads weren’t easy to travel. He never complained, well, at least to me, Mom might have heard about it. Years later, Sean needed a ride, similar situation, he took more time than he thought was reasonable, there was a girl involved of course, and he apologized all over himself. I told Sean that story and said, “it’s what my Dad did for me, and it’s what I’ll do for you.”
Value Everyone No Matter What They Do - Probably one of the greatest work lessons I've ever learned, and it's served me well, is to value everyone in the workforce. I remember him telling me, "Even if someone pushes a broom, if they work hard, you value them for what they do." One of the quickest ways someone would incur my wrath at work was if they would tell me they were "just a peon". I tend to be very easy going at work, but no matter what else was going on or what needed to be done, if someone ever said that to me, they would get a meeting and discussion on how valuable they were or are to the organization. Everyone, no matter what their position, contributes to the success of a company. Thanks to my Dad for first teaching me this lesson.
Hard Work Is Important - My Dad quit high school in the 9th grade and became a truck driver. He eventually worked his way up to being a manager of a truck terminal. At one point, he went 17 years or so without a single day off, no sick day, no vacation, no nothing. I learned this lesson a little too well, and this probably wasn't the best lesson he ever taught me. Thankfully, I was never quite that bad, and I have improved over time. I have learned that there are times to work hard, and there are times to play. I still struggle with the play, but old habits or teachings die hard.
It's OK to Cry - I will never forget when my Grandfather died. He was the first person that died that was close to me. I remember getting ready in the morning the day after he died, and I heard this strange sound coming from my parent's bedroom. I went in, and it was my Dad crying. I had never heard him cry in my life. It was a strange, surreal experience, but I knew it was OK, and I knew how much my Dad loved his Father.
Did I learn more than just this? You bet. My Dad taught me so much about how to do the important things in life, but more importantly, he taught me about the important things in life. That has made all the difference.
Happy Birthday Dad. Every time I go out of town and have a really good meal, I think to myself, I can't wait to tell Dad about this tuna, or flounder or whatever. Then I remember, I can't. You loved hearing about my trips, my adventures, the great meals. Most of all, you loved hearing about me, my family, my dogs, all of the things that made you proud, even if for whatever reason, I wasn't proud, you always were. You were always in my corner, no matter what, and you were always in all of our corners. Thank you for all that you did.
It's OK to Cry - I will never forget when my Grandfather died. He was the first person that died that was close to me. I remember getting ready in the morning the day after he died, and I heard this strange sound coming from my parent's bedroom. I went in, and it was my Dad crying. I had never heard him cry in my life. It was a strange, surreal experience, but I knew it was OK, and I knew how much my Dad loved his Father.
Did I learn more than just this? You bet. My Dad taught me so much about how to do the important things in life, but more importantly, he taught me about the important things in life. That has made all the difference.
Happy Birthday Dad. Every time I go out of town and have a really good meal, I think to myself, I can't wait to tell Dad about this tuna, or flounder or whatever. Then I remember, I can't. You loved hearing about my trips, my adventures, the great meals. Most of all, you loved hearing about me, my family, my dogs, all of the things that made you proud, even if for whatever reason, I wasn't proud, you always were. You were always in my corner, no matter what, and you were always in all of our corners. Thank you for all that you did.
