Eulogy
For as long as I can remember, my dad has always told us that when he died, he wanted the song Old Days to be played at his funeral. This made sense to us because Chicago has always been his favorite band. He took us to all of their concerts, and growing up, their music was always on in our house. He would sing their songs in the morning until we got out of bed - and anyone who has ever heard him sing will understand why we woke up so quickly. We even named our dog after the saxophone player. And I guess if there’s any good reason to name a dog Wally that would have to be it. But after listening to Old Days, I can see now why my dad’s choice in song was such an appropriate one.
The opening line of the song is “Old days, good times I remember.” Over the past five days I have been overwhelmed with amazing stories of my dad. It seems like everyone can remember a time when he made them smile, or did something so silly that they couldn’t help but laugh along with him. I have lots of “good times I remember” of my dad, and here is one of my favorites, for those who haven’t heard it before. My dad was probably the most laidback and most unintimidating person you could ever meet. And only once in my life can I remember him trying to show his angry side. When I was seven or eight years old, I was giving my lip about something. I don’t even remember what the conversation was about. We were in the kitchen and he had just opened the fridge door to get something when I said something that must have been especially obnoxious or rude. He thought he could emphasize his disapproval by slamming the refrigerator door. When he did that, all of the eggs that had been on the door went flying across the room, breaking all over the floor. I looked at him and he looked back at me - I don’t know who was more shocked. And then he laughed and told me to clean up the mess. That was my punishment for being a brat. And it was the last time my dad ever tried showing his angry side.
The first verse of Old Days ends with the line, “memories seem like yesterday.” Sadly, this is all too fitting for this unexpected and untimely passing. Some of our memories really were just yesterday. We are here celebrating the life of a man who many of us shared a laugh with at the Forth of July, less than two weeks ago. Or that some saw at the end of the school year only weeks ago, which still seems just like yesterday. I say that we are celebrating a life rather than mourning a death because that’s how my dad would see it. My dad loved the culture and music of New Orleans, and there they practice a funeral tradition called the second line. This is where following a funeral, people would celebrate the deceased be playing music and dancing madly through the streets. He loved this idea, and I remember him telling me about the second line on a trip to New Orleans years ago as we ate Biegnets at Cafe Du Monde. I don’t think we could have convinced my mom to allow a second line here today, but a dancing Tigger doll and a flushable toilet was still a pretty good send off.
And finally, the song ends with the line “Old days, in my mind and in my heart to stay.” And this is so fitting for my dad because he left such a strong mark on everyone who met him. I said countless times during the wake that he rubbed off on me and my brothers, and I’m so proud of that fact. My dad truly was such a genuinely great man. And I hope that someday people will be able to think of the “old days” for me, and say that I followed in his footsteps.
The opening line of the song is “Old days, good times I remember.” Over the past five days I have been overwhelmed with amazing stories of my dad. It seems like everyone can remember a time when he made them smile, or did something so silly that they couldn’t help but laugh along with him. I have lots of “good times I remember” of my dad, and here is one of my favorites, for those who haven’t heard it before. My dad was probably the most laidback and most unintimidating person you could ever meet. And only once in my life can I remember him trying to show his angry side. When I was seven or eight years old, I was giving my lip about something. I don’t even remember what the conversation was about. We were in the kitchen and he had just opened the fridge door to get something when I said something that must have been especially obnoxious or rude. He thought he could emphasize his disapproval by slamming the refrigerator door. When he did that, all of the eggs that had been on the door went flying across the room, breaking all over the floor. I looked at him and he looked back at me - I don’t know who was more shocked. And then he laughed and told me to clean up the mess. That was my punishment for being a brat. And it was the last time my dad ever tried showing his angry side.
The first verse of Old Days ends with the line, “memories seem like yesterday.” Sadly, this is all too fitting for this unexpected and untimely passing. Some of our memories really were just yesterday. We are here celebrating the life of a man who many of us shared a laugh with at the Forth of July, less than two weeks ago. Or that some saw at the end of the school year only weeks ago, which still seems just like yesterday. I say that we are celebrating a life rather than mourning a death because that’s how my dad would see it. My dad loved the culture and music of New Orleans, and there they practice a funeral tradition called the second line. This is where following a funeral, people would celebrate the deceased be playing music and dancing madly through the streets. He loved this idea, and I remember him telling me about the second line on a trip to New Orleans years ago as we ate Biegnets at Cafe Du Monde. I don’t think we could have convinced my mom to allow a second line here today, but a dancing Tigger doll and a flushable toilet was still a pretty good send off.
And finally, the song ends with the line “Old days, in my mind and in my heart to stay.” And this is so fitting for my dad because he left such a strong mark on everyone who met him. I said countless times during the wake that he rubbed off on me and my brothers, and I’m so proud of that fact. My dad truly was such a genuinely great man. And I hope that someday people will be able to think of the “old days” for me, and say that I followed in his footsteps.