My sister, Caren, posted on her blog her farewell words to our father. Thought I'd do the same, just as a record. These words were spoken at his funeral service on Saturday, June 21st, 2014. Much too soon ...
Funeral Services for Gary Greaves – June 21, 2014
Close your eyes
Go to sleep
Soon the birdies will start to sing
And in the morning, you’ll wake up nice
Find your daddy at your side
My father wrote that song and would sing it to us
throughout our early childhoods – when he’d tuck us in at night, when we were
sick, when we were cuddled on his lap in the evening winding down before
bedtime. As adults, Caren, Cheryl and I sang that song to each of the
grandchildren (or any children we were with) as we rocked them to sleep, tucked them in or
cuddled them. Truth be told, I still sing it to myself if I’m having trouble
falling asleep. It may be silly, but the words take me back to a safe place, a
place of comfort, and security. Mostly, though, it reminds me of the enormous
unconditional love my father had for us.
My sisters and mother joke often that I’m the leader of the
pack and “Hey, once Cheri is here, we don’t need to think about or plan
anything. She’ll take care of it.” I’ve always been independent and something
of a leader. In my naïve teenage and young adult years, however, I thought that
meant everything had to be done my way; only I knew best. My definition of something was the
right way. I defined stubbornness.
My relationship with my father was complex. As a young
child, I loved doing things with him … helping him in his upholstery shop or on
his paper routes, watching old TV shows in the evenings, even the occasional
fishing trip to Shelter Island could be fun. (Well, we girls sat in the van as
he tossed his line from the rocks.) He was just happy to have his girls around
him. As the years went on,
however, I began to focus more on how things should or could be based on MY definitions, needs and wants. As a teenager, I often wondered what
life might have been like had I been born to a different father. Someone who
would attend my sporting events, guide and counsel me in life matters, teach me
about the world, maybe not embarrass me so often … a father by my definition.
And then something happened. I grew up.
Over the years, I developed my professional career and
found myself leading two companies. I was still a leader, but my knowledge of
what made a person a true leader and a good person, had by then expanded and I
had outgrown the naïve thinking of my younger self. This blessed me so much not only in professional endeavors,
but more importantly, in my personal life.
I realized I had the father I was meant to have. I had just
been too naïve and stubborn to recognize the life lessons he was teaching me all
along …
• work hard but enjoy the
well-deserved rest from your labors
• help others … do what you
can, and be content knowing you helped your fellow brother
• enjoy the simple moments of
life and be content with what you have
• don’t worry what others think of
you … their judgments are more a reflection of them than you … forgive them and
love them anyhow
• laugh often, tell a joke, talk to
people, be a friend
• love and protect your
family…family is everything
• love unconditionally
Right behind the love he had for his “Katy” – his wife of
45 years and my incredible mother
– Gary’s love for his children defined him. Caren, Cheryl and I were
blessed to have our father’s presence in our home throughout our childhoods.
His older children, because of life circumstances that may never truly be
understood, missed out on having their father in their lives as they grew up. I
can testify to you Kristie, Curt, Carie and Cindy Greaves, that your father
thought of you each day, loved you more than you could ever imagine and was
heart-broken to not be part of your lives. In Gary’s eyes, being the father of
six daughters and one son, made him a very wealthy and blessed man.
Over the past twenty years, reconnecting all his children
became my life’s mission. I took it upon myself to find my siblings and reunite
us however I could.. Family is everything that matters, and Gary’s children
were scattered from his life. His heart would never be complete if he didn’t
know all his children were healthy and happy. Maybe I took on this challenge out of pure selfishness –
heck, I wanted to find and know my older siblings more than anyone – but I
think more, it was my subconscious way of showing my father he was loved.
While the seven of us have yet to all unite in one room,
today, we are all here either physically or in spirit. Each of Gary’s seven
children is mentioned in his obituary and program. I know Gary and my Grandma
Dora are so happy today … Grandma’s “sad page” in her family history book is
sad no more. She is watching us all today … she sees her family united … and
her beloved baby boy is back in her arms.
Last Friday on my drive home from work, I called my
parents’ home as I did every day. Gary answered, as usual. Our normal
interaction would have been, “Hi Gary, where’s mom?” and we’d make small talk
until mom picked up the other line. He’d ask, “How’s my baby girl? Is it hot
there? Is your new work near the capitol?” Most days, mom got on the line
before I had time to say much in reply. But that day, last Friday, I actually
talked with my father. I answered his questions and didn’t rush to get him off
the phone. He asked me, “Do you like your new job? Is my baby happy?” I told
him I loved my new job and yes, I was very happy. And as I waited for mom to
get on the line, I had the most random feeling … “what if that was the last
conversation I ever had with Gary?” It lasted but a mere split second, but I
felt peace knowing that I talked with him, and he heard first hand that his
child, his little girl was, indeed, happy and doing well.
To Gary, that’s all that ever mattered.
He loved being son, a brother, a husband, a father and he
opened his heart to anyone who wanted to be part of his extended family. And
that extended family is every one of you here today. Gary would be so honored
to see so the outpouring of love and celebration of his life, but also so
humbled and grateful for the support being shown to his family. Caren, Cheryl
and I can’t thank you each enough for the way you have rallied around our mother
and wrapped her in your protective arms. We know she will be kept safe in the
embrace of her family, ward family and friends here in Springville.
As the days go on and we each scatter back to our
forever-altered lives without Gary, may we be reminded of the lessons he taught
us.
Forgive others. Don’t hold a grudge. Be a friend. Love
your family.
Close your eyes
Go to sleep
Soon the birdies will start to sing
And in the morning, you’ll wake up nice
Find your family at your side
Sweet dreams, Dad, sweet dreams.
