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Showing posts from February, 2017
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This is what I wrote and read at my dad's funeral on Jan. 31, 2017.  I miss you every day dad.   I know they say it will get easier, but I'm just not seeing that yet.   
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My dad was a builder.
And I say that, not in the sense he was a carpenter, although we all know he loved working with wood.I can’t look in any room of my house without seeing something he created.From Claire’s American Girl doll bed, to my grandfather clock, to the glider in my guest room, I see his handiwork everywhere.And in fact he is being buried in a metal casket because it pained him to think of all that beautiful wood going to waste.His feeling is that it was better used to create a thing of beauty than to be buried in the ground.
What I mean by him being a builder, is that he could take the pieces of things and make something beautiful.
He built our family with my mom.I don’t know many families like ours, and I contribute so much of that to the wa…