My Eulogy for My Father

Thank you all so much for coming today to celebrate my father's life.

The day before my father passed away, he said, “We've had a long journey you and me.” I said, “its been fun though, hasn't it?” “Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “I really did have fun.”

And I believe he did. My dad found joy in life. Even when it was hard. Even when it was sad. He found great joy. And when there was not much joy to go around, then he made a joke of it and laughed anyway.

John Vance was a funny guy. Some would say funny, “haha” while other's would say funny, “hrmm,” but he was funny and I think his ability to laugh has been a great lesson.

This has been a particularly difficult time for me, as I know it has been for all of you. He was the most special person and I love him so dearly. I will miss him every day of my life, and so will my children, and I know you all will miss him too.

But grief is not the legacy my father leaves for us. He built his life with joy in his heart and it is this joy that he gave to each of us, and it is this joy that we must remember.

My dad found humor in everything. I remember coming to this old cemetery as a child with him. He would tease me and say, “This place is so great, people are just dying to move in.”

He loved people, and was especially good with children. He taught elementary for years and years at Glenview Elementary. I can still recall adults coming up to us in restaurants to say hello to their old favorite teacher, “Mr. Vance.” All of our friends loved him too.

When we were kids, he found nothing more hilarious than to scare us. My cousins still talk about my dad driving us around telling the story of Bloody Mary. Then when we were thoroughly frightened the car would mysteriously stall and what do you know, that's Bloody Mary's house right over there, run up and ask for help. We'd start screaming and he'd roar with laughter.

My father used to sing me silly songs, and throw me in the air. He told me how much he loved me in a thousand different ways. On my birthday he retold the story of my birth, and never failed to make me feel like the most loved daughter that ever lived. He loved fully and completely; and I loved him just as much.

He was always funny. No matter what was happening in your life, he could find a way to make you laugh. Or in the very least, to realize that problems are temporary and that in the bigger scheme of things, everything was going to be okay. When I had had a particularly tough time, my father would say, “Leigh Ann, if this is the worst thing that ever happens to you then you should be happy.”

I grieve the loss of my father today, but I will rejoice in the love he gave to me forever.

I urge all of you to remember my father for the joy he brought into your own life and share that joy with others. That is his true legacy.

I would like to end now, with an excerpt from one of my father's favorite poems that he used to quote to me:

It is Ode to Imitations of Immortality by William Wordsworth

What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;

The funeral

I buried my father yesterday. It was a beautiful service. I think he would have approved.

It was cold and rainy Saturday. I was disappointed that the weather wasn't nicer, and at the same time it seemed more appropriate. Its always disconcerting when you feel miserable on a lovely day.

We had the service under the old Newberry church. Its just a pavilion really. Its old and rustic; what you would imagine a church revival to take place in. I believe it dates back to the 1800s.

There are two rows of wooden pews. We set up a table with pictures of my father.

The service began with our friend Coitt playing the bagpipes. He played The Bells of Dunblaine--my favorite bagpipe song. My cousin Lu connected us with one of the Methodist ministers from her church. Jason, the minister, was fabulous. I couldn't have asked for a better sermon.




After the sermon, I gave a eulogy honoring my father, his best friend went next, and then my cousin Ronnie. Then the minister spoke again.

At the end, Coitt led everyone to the gravesite playing Going Home. The hearse took my father to the site and once there, the military honor guard carried him to the place over his grave.

They folded the American flag, then fired three rounds. One honor guard handed me the flag on "behalf of the president and a grateful nation." He then placed the bullet shells from the rounds in my hand. Then Coitt played Amazing Grace and the minister concluded the funeral.

Funeral planning

I bought a cemetery plot for my father today next to the family in Newberry cemetery. This is a picture of the cemetery I found online. It has actually been nice weather--sunny and cool.

He is right under a tree and close to his grandmother "Mamie" and by his mother's brother and sister who died of TB. It is beautiful and so we also bought one next to it for us. I wanted to bury him somewhere that I would go to again. Somewhere peaceful and serene.

My friend Alexis said planning a funeral was a lot like planning a wedding. To me, it seems like we're planning a shotgun wedding and the bride is missing. Everything is done so quickly and we're just guessing what Dad would want.

Unlike a wedding, the planning is not the stressful part. Its nice to have something to focus on. Should I have "this flower or that flower" is so preferable to the realization that my dad is gone. It is the moments when I'm still and quiet that hurt the most.

I've been dreaming about my dad. The first night we were all getting ready to go to a party. I kept asking if that meant my dad wasn't dead and people would say things like, "silly girl, no, you just need to pick out a dress."

Then the next night he was leaving and handing me money from his pocket. He started to give me a few bills, then just gave me the whole wad of cash saying that he didn't need it. I said, "I don't want any money, just stay here," and he said in his west Texas twang, "oh, well, I best be going." I was crying and saying that I wanted to go too, but he said I couldn't go with him.

The worst part of the dreams is that I wake up feeling like its all just been a bad dream, and that my dad is fine; then I realize that its reality that is the bad part and I hurt all over again.

As awful as this has all been, there is a silver lining in that I have grown close to my cousin Lu and her family. They are so amazing and so loving. They have opened their homes and their hearts to us and really held my hand through this process. Lu went to the funeral home with us, she set up meetings with the cemetery personnel, went to Millsap to the cemetery and even found a minister. I love them so dearly, they are amazing, wonderful, people.

Also amazing, wonderful, people are my sister, mother, and husband. Thank you.

Dad

My father passed away today. He had been in the hospital, but was doing much, much better. In fact, this morning the nurse told him he may go home today. Sometime early afternoon his blood pressure began to drop and they just couldn't save him.

I miss him so much. I had all these plans for him. I moved him out of his house, kicked out his freeloading roommates, and found a wonderful place for him to live. He was suppose to move here and live in this great place and then we would visit all the time. The girls and I were suppose to hang out with him on nights Andre was working late. I was planning a big birthday party for him too. After all these years, I was finally going to be able to spend lots of time with him. I had plans and this was not a part of the plan.

My father would have said, "God has a big laugh when we make plans." And I suppose that's true, but its not funny. I miss him so much. I feel as if someone has torn a piece out of me and that I'll never be whole again. I just can't imagine not being able to call him. I feel like I just need to talk to him one more time. I so love him.

My Dad

Last Wednesday, my father drove himself to the hospital. Becoming disoriented, he drove around for three hours before he found it even though his home is only 5 minutes away. I am told he was coughing up blood and barely breathing.

He contracted a bacterial pneumonia that was buried deep into his lungs. Of course, no one knew this at first. The doctors guessed pneumonia and put him on a bi-pap. He appeared to improve for a day, then took a turn for the worse. They ordered cat-scans, more tests, and breathing treatments that shook the bed trying to pound out the infection. He also tested positive for a staph infection in his blood and lungs.

The lack of oxygen made him disoriented and he tried to pull his tubes out and leave the room so they tied him to the bed. My father is a tall man. His feet touch the metal foot board even with his knees bent. He is miserable and in spite of everything he wasn't getting better.

So the doctors performed a surgery on his lungs and inserted a plastic tube that drains out bloody liquid.

There is a guessing quality in the medical field that always makes me feel uneasy. "We think...",they tell me, or "probably it's this..." or "it could be that..." I'm not saying that I think the doctors have done anything wrong, not at all. Its just that it always feels like they're throwing darts while blindfolded just hoping that one will land on the bulls-eye. All of their uncertainty makes the helplessness of it hit home.

In addition to surgery, they also put him on a ventilator. I have never actually seen someone on a ventilator before. In movies sure, but not in real life.

It seems like some device Edgar Allen Poe or Alfred Hitchcock would have dreamed up. He can't speak or even close his mouth. He can't move or turn over, and his hands and feet are tied. He tries to talk, but he can't even mouth words so the first day he kept moving his eyes and his eyebrows trying to tell me something. I kept naming objects, people, things, anything and he'd get frustrated the way you do when you're playing charades and no one guesses what your trying to say. I tried to give him something to write with, but he just scribbled circles and got more upset.

I walked out of the room and bawled.

When I pulled it together and went back I saw his hands were really dry and I remembered that I had a travel size bottle of lotion. I rubbed lotion on his hands and arms and those feelings of helplessness lessened a little. He closed his eyes pleasantly. I got the nurse to untie him and stretch his arms, rolling his shoulders and massaging his arms. He was really happy about that. I told him everything was going to be okay and not to worry. That his bills were being paid, his car was fine, we were fine, everything was taken care of and that he was getting better. It would be over soon.

The next day he was better and I was too. I looked for the little ways I could make him more comfortable. I put moisturizer on his lips that were dry and bloody from having to stay open so long. I put a cold wet cloth on his forehead. I taped pictures of his grandchildren where he could see them. By then he could write too.

He seems to be doing better everyday and even watched the UT football game tonight. The other good thing that has come out of this is that I have reconnected with some of my cousins, extended family and friends. I'll write more about them later, but they are awesome.

Happy Festivus

Well, its been another happy festivus for the rest of us.

Christmas with my dad

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts. ~Kahil Gibran

I was thinking of this poem today.

We drove an hour and a half to meet my father for lunch. That was not how I envisioned spending the Christmas holiday with him, which is odd because my vision is something that has never actually happened. My vision takes place over a few days, a fire is going in the fireplace, we're all drinking eggnog and laughing while the kids open presents. Its a made-for-TV version that I've made up somewhere along the way and then held out to be "normal" even though its never been the norm for us.

Although we talk at least once a week; I last saw him over eight months ago. When asked to visit, he'd say, "sure, we'll hatch out a plan." A month or so later I say, "next weekend," and he says, "put me down for a maybe." As the date approaches he suggests meeting halfway for lunch instead.

If you know my father, you're probably laughing by now. It is so typical--and my holiday vision is so obviously not. This is the man who left my wedding immediately after the father-daughter dance. We hadn't even cut the cake yet. He refuses to drive down on holidays because of the traffic and "besides," he says, "who really cares about the actual day?" I just don't get it. He's retired and I'm his only child, its not like he has a busy schedule.

Thus, Kahil Gibran's poem came to mind this afternoon. Not only can we not make our children think and be like us, but we can't make our parents either.

What Kahil failed to say is that the real folly of expecting the people in our lives to become our vision of who we think they should be is that we miss out on who they actually are.

For years I kept expecting him to do things he just wasn't going to do. This was my failing, not his. I wanted him to be exactly like I thought he should be which only took the focus off of how great he already was.

He's the dad that stopped everything and built me a treehouse because I wanted one right then. Okay, so it didn't have any railings and telling a five year old to just "not get too close to the edge" is probably not the safest idea...but still it was a pretty cool treehouse.

He's the dad that every year on my birthday will call me and tell me the story of my birth adding in how amazing it all was. And when he tells me about his own life he tells the real stories, not the happy-go-lucky ones other dads tell. And when he tells me that he'll always love me no matter what and that he'll always be there for me, I know he means it.

So, when asked if I was disappointed to not see more of him this holiday, I honestly answered "no." I miss him, I would have liked to have seen him more, but he is who he is and I love him as he is.

Life is half spent before we know what it is

As a child, I remember staring at the clock in class and thinking how excruciatingly long it was until the bell rung and school was let out. And all the lazy summers that seemed to last forever.

The days are flying by now as if Monday and Friday are consecutive days of the week without any time in between. I'm to the point that I have to stop and do some math anytime someone asks me my age in case I've missed a birthday or two.

My father says when he used to drive an ambulance he met this 90 year old woman once who told him, "If you think time is going fast now, just wait until you're my age." And maybe that's the way it is. The more time you have under your belt, the faster it seems to go. Afterall, how long is a week to a child who has lived so few? Its all relative. A mere 24 hours drags on endlessly for a mosquito while 60 years passes in the blink of the eye for a tortoise.

Anyhow, what I'm trying to say is that I've just been too damn busy to update the blog. So in the attempt to catch up--here's what's been going on.

Andre's mom, Carmen, came to stay with us for a while during her annual visit to see children and grandchildren. The girls had a great time with Abuelita. They dressed up as penguins for her.




They even had very fancy tea parties--complete with raised pinkies and fancy hats. Of course, Joey the dog, has to be present at any event that provides food of any kind. He never complains about the quality of the food--only the quantity.




Next, Thanksgiving happened where we stuffed ourselves silly, then did it all over again the following day. We drove to Kileen to celebrate with Lynette, Ivette and family. I love spending Thanksgiving at their place. Not only is the food fabulous, but the company is even better.

The girls loved Lynette's piano. I swear they were just on the verge of playing "Heart and Soul" and setting out a tip jar. Seriously speaking, the one who could play it and play well was Isabella. She has really excelled on the piano. She even played a softer song to lull Rowan to sleep at the end of the night. I'm so proud of her and can only imagine how much farther along she will be next Thanksgiving.

Little Austin was the ever sweet, wonderful cousin he always is. He played with the girls so much they were ready to follow him anywhere. Here is Austin showing Rowan how to play the piano.










The following day we had Thanksgiving again at my mom's with my family. My Aunt and Uncle and their kids came down too. Its always great to see them. Brian even drove down from College Station. I was so busy eating way too much and lounging around that I completely spaced on picture taking.

The next week we drove to a nearby Christmas tree farm, picked out our tree, and Andre--being the lumberjack that he is--cut it down. It was the first time I had ever gotten a tree from a tree farm, and it was the first tree Andre and I had ever had. It was a truly neat experience, plus, we got a tree locally grown, that was very reasonably priced and it was fun.












Christmas trees and toddlers is an interesting, insane combination. We have certainly discovered a new way to count down the days until Christmas. Some people have advent calendars, but we just lose a few more ornaments from the bottom of the tree every day. By Christmas day we will only have the very top of the tree decorated. See it works perfectly because without the ornaments it makes it much easier to then take the tree down after Christmas.



The funny thing is that the girls know they're not suppose to take the ornaments off, so you'll rarely catch them doing it. Yet, I'm finding more and more of them missing. The other fun pastime is moving the presents from under the tree to other locations around the house. That, and jumping on them.

That brings us up to this weekend. We went to Galveston for Adrienne and Javier's wedding. The bride was gorgeous and the wedding was a blast. They had a traditional Catholic wedding and the reception was in an old hotel that most, if not all, the guests were staying at. It was really a lot of fun. We were able to catch up with lots of cousins, aunts and uncles, which of course, makes you realize how long its been since everyone was together and how we should try to get together more often.

Evelyn on Halloween

Evelyn on Halloween 2009 from Leigh on Vimeo.

Trick or Treat

This is the twins picking out their Halloween pumpkin. Sweetberry farms was closed, so we bought pumpkins at a local church. The girls picked little pumpkins that were sized just right for them.








Friday night we went to our annual Halloween party at the Donelson's. We were fairies and Andre was a fairy catcher. It took a while for the girls to realize he was wearing a fake mustache. I'm not sure if Rowan was ever fully convinced he wasn't just some strange man.

There were a ton of people this year and everyone's costumes were great. My favorites were Lyzz's as a Roller Derby girl, and her mom and stepfather's as the "Old Man and the Sea"



Andre's mom kept with the fairy theme and was a "Fairy Grandmother." We stayed way past the babies' bedtime, but I think they would have stayed even longer.














Babies don't care how late the party lasted the night before, they're up and ready to go. The girls made muffins together.

After breakfast, they painted their pumpkins.













Then it was trick or treat time. It was cold outside so they wore their little Bolivian sweaters from Abuelita. They were "Bolivian Fairies." Poor Andre had to work, but the rest of us headed to my sister's house to see family, give out candy, and trick or treat. The girls really enjoyed handing out candy to costumed children, and so when it was their turn they were ready.





Lately, the girls have been a bit shy with new people; especially men. But you'd never know it if you saw them trick or treating. Even tall scary Frankensteins were okay if they were handing out candy.

Forrest dressed as his father as a teenager; or perhaps he was suppose to be a "rocker." I told him it could be his alter-ego like a boy version of Hanna Montana. My sister was "crazy cat lady," which was surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) easy for her to pull together.

We went to about half a dozen houses and then returned home. The girls are too little to actually eat their candy; but that didn't change who owned it. Evelyn came home and marveled at her loot, picking up each shiny piece and sticking it in her mouth, wrapper and all, then throwing it aside to pull out the next piece of candy. Her little sugar empire and it was all hers.

Abuelita comes to visit

Andre's mom is making her annual tour of the States and has come to visit for a while. The girls are thrilled to have her here. Who can resist the love of a grandmother? They've been coloring and playing and just having the best time.

Liliana turns 4

The girls went to their first birthday party at Chucky Cheese last weekend to celebrate Liliana's 4th birthday. Its funny how children will suddenly act more mature around older children. The girls sat at the table with all the "big" kids and ate pizza and cake just like all the other girls.

This Chucky Cheese had a special play area for toddlers with little slides and games.



Lili is an absolute doll. She wore the cutest pink tutu-inspired skirt and her hair makes perfect little ringlets. She's very sweet too and kept calling the girls "my twins."

This is Lili with her mom, Jamie.

Birthdays for everyone

My nephew Forrest celebrated his 14th birthday this past week. Absolutely amazing. Its hard to believe he's that old. He plays the guitar and had a garage band party with lots of friends. They were actually quite good. You'd never guess they were so young. People came from a couple of streets up just to watch the band play.

I still remember when he was born. Mom and I drove up to see Scott and Laura. They were so in love with their new baby that not only did they refuse to set him down, but they refused to let anyone else hold him either. As I remember, mom and I did laundry instead. I think I got to briefly hold him for a picture and that was it. ha!


Little Austin also celebrated a birthday on the same day as Forrest. We missed celebrating with him because we live so far away, but we'll catch up soon.

And the really big news: we have three new additions to the family. Andre's cousin Lisa and her husband, Ross, had triplets! Two identical twin girls and a little boy, born October 12th. Their names are Issac, Violet, and Abigail. We are so excited the triplets are here.

When we first had the girls people would always stop us out in public and want to talk about the twins. People are fascinated with twins. I can only imagine what it would be like with triplets. People are going to go crazy over them. They're going to be famous babies everywhere they go. Triple congratulations!

Pumpkin time

Friday was a beautiful cool-ish day so we took the girls to pick out a pumpkin at sweet berry farm. They had so many pumpkins, gourds, squash, pumpkins and more pumpkins and then a few more pumpkins. It was a beautiful farm too. Apparently, they also have a blueberry and strawberry season.









They had lots of activities for kids, including a giant 4 acre maze in the shape of Texas. They have a few animals too--pony rides, several goats, and lots of lazy cats.

Sea World

Last weekend Andre and I took a mini-vacation to Sea World. I'd been putting in a lot of hours at work due to this case I was on and we all needed a break. I booked a little resort by the park and we spent one day at Sea World and one day at the resort. It was awesome.

The girls loved Sea World. Rowan was amazed by Shamu. She kept pointing and clapping at the Orcas; even clapping when other onlookers had stopped. In one part of the show they lower this big ball and Shamu jumps out of the water and hits the ball with his big mouth. Rowan was entranced. Evelyn was entertained for about five minutes and then grew tired of the killer whale and his antics. She spent most of the time studying the wheel of the stroller.

The girls were too little to ride any of the rides. Fortunately, my sister, nephew and his friend met up with us. Laura (sister) traded off watching the girls so we could enjoy the roller coasters. I don't know what it is about roller coasters, but they seem to become scarier as one gets older.

My mother and grandmother joined us all back at the resort. It was such a nice trip for all of us. I feel as if I can work and work and lose sleep, and stress out, if only I can have these nice getaways from time to time. Sure, it required me waking up at 5:30am Monday morning to drive to court, but it was worth it.

The girls seemed to have a good time too. They jumped on the big bed, and pushed luggage carts around, they swam in the pool, and ate lunch on the balcony. It was as much a vacation for them as it was for us.