My Talk from Dad's Funeral

I was lucky enough to be with Dad during his last couple of hours at home last week when his nurse from Midland was assessing what we needed to do next. She thought he should lay down in bed for little bit with some oxygen and rest before we made the trip to the Midland house. But, of course, as Dani and I took him to his bed to lay down, he didn’t just want to go to sleep, no matter how worn out he was. There were still stories to share with Dani. He had to make sure Dani knew who I was, so he shared one of his stories that he’s been sharing for 44 years about how I was born and when the hospital asked what they were going to name their 5th child, Dad said he wanted it to be quit, with a K of course. All of his stories weren’t old ones though, because the last story he ever told at his house was one of pride about my son doing well in a national competition this summer. The nurse was encouraging him to rest but he wasn’t quite ready to sit still as he still had stories to tell. But Dad was never one to sit still. He did have to have his afternoon naps and his bedtime was earlier than I could ever imagine, but the time he spent awake was always full of some project or hobby.

Many of my memories of my dad involve some of those projects. When I was a teenager, I remember going to real estate trainings with him in Overland Park and Wichita. I had no idea what the real estate end of things was, but I guess I was there to learn the computer end of things. One of his agents and longtime friends, Patty Bean, reminded me this week that he was always so proud that I had come to Century 21 to train them on the computers way back when computers were just becoming the thing. But it definitely wasn’t just at work. At home, he had a collection of computers throughout the years back to the early 80’s. Looking back, I’m not sure why we had these computers back then or what they actually did. But I know Dad and I spent hours and hours learning about them and trying to do whatever we could with a computer. The internet came along about the same time I moved away from home, and I know the internet became an important part of many of his hobbies and projects. With the internet, he could research our family history. He has printed pages upon pages of family history from all of the research he has done on his computers. He scanned in pictures so the faces can go with the names and the dates. He typed up stories about the people that go with the information he had found. I can’t imagine how many hours he has spent in front of his computer delving into his ancestry and then of course, telling anyone who walked in his door about the cool information he found.

Another hobby that Dad loved was to find a bargain. In fact, in recent times he and Mom would spend lots of time scouring the thrift stores to find things he just couldn’t live without, especially new clocks. He always loved a great deal at the Salvation Army Thrift Store or the Owl’s Nest and one of his greatest finds of all time was the grandfather clock that sits in their dining room. Of course, when he bought it they had just their little four door car, so he had to go back to buy a jump rope to tie it into the trunk.

From the time I was little, one of the projects Dad always took pride in was his garden. And the garden was never a small thing. Every year, we knew we were going to have more tomatoes than we could ever eat. And the internet provided him a way to find the seeds that grow things like the biggest and best tomatoes and the largest watermelon on earth. He would be so excited every spring with his printouts of pictures of this year’s plants and the seeds that had arrived in the mail.

But he didn’t only shop and research family on the Internet. On the internet, he found ways to carry out the ideas that he had. He found new recipes to try because he was always cooking something. And speaking of cooking, that reminds me of a hobby he had decided to take up when I was little. One day, he decided he was going to raise rabbits. He built hutches for them to live in and those rabbits multiplied. Karla and I were so excited because we had all of these adorable little friends living just behind the garage. Dad told us to quit naming them because they weren’t pets. I don’t know if he was going to become a millionaire from raising and selling rabbits or what exactly his plan was, but I do know we were told over and over to not get close to them. One evening, my Grandma Sowards and Aunt Jean were in town staying with us as they often did. We sat down at the dinner table and I couldn’t eat. In fact, all I could do was cry. Karla asked me what was wrong, and I could barely mutter the words—“Dad killed Murphy.” And what was before us on that dinner table but one of Dad’s culinary masterpieces—our pet rabbit. Dad was mad that I ruined dinner because at that point, of course no one could eat Murphy. Soon after, the cages were opened for the rabbits to run free and his days of raising rabbits had come to an end.

I think it’s safe to say none of us were ever quite sure what the next project was going to be. When I was a teenager, many of the projects revolved around fishing. I think during that time period, one of his ultimate sources of pride was his houseboat. He took parts and pieces of a boat and a camper to build his own little piece of heaven that he kept at a dock at Lake Perry so he could fish and nap whenever he wanted while he was on the water. He constantly came up with unique and useful things. But I think the one that frightened us the most was in recent years. He decided he needed a better way to get to the second floor of his workshop than that traditional old way of using the stairs. He knew he wasn’t as strong as he used to be so what better way to move things up and down in the workshop than an elevator. He removed the stairs from the building and started creating something new. Some rope, pulleys, and a few two by fours created a masterpiece that he was so proud of and what I was afraid would be a deathtrap every time he asked my kids to get on it to take a ride. He eventually realized that maybe removing the stairs wasn’t the best plan, so he relocated the elevator and replaced the stairs. With a push of a button, though, that project that he spent hours and hours planning and building is ready to move things from the ground level of Dad’s workshop to the second floor.

Dad had so many projects over the years. His woodworking classes and the workshop at his house led to many beautiful pieces of cabinetry, from the kitchen cabinets in his house to cradles, toy boxes, and dollhouses he built for his grandkids and many other beautiful pieces of work, including the casket you see in front of you today. He took pride in everything he did and put his love into those tomatoes he grew and the tables he built. While his hobbies and projects have come to an end, the memories he created will always be with us. I love you, Dad.