Dad's Celebration Program - Based on Steve Lawrence's album "Portrait of My Love"
A Message From Dad - Written by Mom With Help From Pastor Kiha
Dear Tiffany, Kelsey and Kevin,
I know you are hurting terribly and are missing me. It’s not as though I had an illness that gave me the time to talk to you. I wanted more time to tell you how much you mean to me. So this is that. This letter is that. Mom and I had 31 years of conversations so she wrote this for me especially for you. Our marriage is centered around the three of you … we spent our quiet time talking about living a good and happy life with you and for you.
There is nothing more important to me than being the best father I could be. I strive to pass on this formula to living a good and happy life to you. It’s pretty simple – I’ve got 3 virtues and 10 principles, now they are yours.
Here are the 3 important virtues – loyalty, integrity and moral courage. No need to take notes: Pastor Kiha will give you this copy when he is pau.
I leave you with the 10 principles on which I built my life. I give them to you.
Number 1 – Family first. Friends included. Well maybe not all of my friends. You know which ones.…just kidding.
#2 – Show moral courage. Never let a friend down. (am I right friends, did I ever let you down? If I did don’t answer.) Speak up for what is right, now matter how unpopular. Do the right thing…Do the right thing. Talking about doing the right thing…Kev did you pay your parking tickets yet? Tiffany did you get that IRA yet?
#3 – Never pity yourself. Never give up. Fight bravely as I did, right to the end. That’s who we are as Mukais
#4 – Show humility. You can be humble and stand your ground, but listen to what the other side is saying, and back off when you know you are wrong. (Nobody knows this better than your mom, she humbly admitted to me she was wrong so many times. But I can be humble about it.)
#5 – It’s ok to make mistakes, but learn from them. Best not to make the same mistake twice. Like the time at your dance performance Kelsey when the whole videotape was of the wrong dancer. Sorry, it sure looked like you.
#6 – Give people second chances. Don’t say something you can’t take back. A good example of this is when I am negotiating for a car, a dog or at a garage sale and your mom says “oh is that all?” Can’t take it back. Gotta pay full price now.
#7 – Have fun and be positive. Take risks, but be prepared to hold your hands up if you get caught. That didn’t come out right.” Look at the glass half-full. Look for reasons to do something, not reasons to say “no” like when Kelsey went to the Dominican Republic and I was afraid of the shootings there. I didn’t say no she could not go. Instead I researched and taught her to run in a serpentine fashion. Take risks, live each day to its fullest and always do something that makes you smile and laugh. Talking about laughing. That’s Number 8.
#8 – Learn from my great wit and laugh a lot. Laugh at yourself and at others. Like all the times the magicians shows where I was “the show.” You will get more of what you want if you can give someone more of what they desire. #9 – Always look for a deal. But please don’t take your mother when trying to make a deal! Oh we covered that one.
OK, Number 9. Stay away from those get rich quick schemes. That goes for Keoki and Marc too.
#10 – Be proud of who are and where you come from. Always put the interests of your siblings first. Serve each other. Take a look at each other. And always respect age, as age equals wisdom, as demonstrated by me… the ultimate wise guy.
Tiffany, Kelsey and Kevin: I am proud of you. Of all your accomplishments, schooling, sports and dance. I am proud of you. I could have said this more. I love you. Heaven is real. It’s a real place with real people. It gives you a purpose and meaning. Because it’s real, this goodbye is temporary.
Karen, my bride for all these years. You know how I loved to go to parties just to watch you be the life of the party making people laugh making fun of me. I am so proud of what we have done together—especially these three. Heaven is real. Because it’s real, not even death can stop my love for you. I am waiting for you. I love you all.
Dad
PS. You will be happy to know there is no nutcracker ballet or NJB games here in heaven. It must be in that other place because God knows how I suffered through too many of those.
I know you are hurting terribly and are missing me. It’s not as though I had an illness that gave me the time to talk to you. I wanted more time to tell you how much you mean to me. So this is that. This letter is that. Mom and I had 31 years of conversations so she wrote this for me especially for you. Our marriage is centered around the three of you … we spent our quiet time talking about living a good and happy life with you and for you.
There is nothing more important to me than being the best father I could be. I strive to pass on this formula to living a good and happy life to you. It’s pretty simple – I’ve got 3 virtues and 10 principles, now they are yours.
Here are the 3 important virtues – loyalty, integrity and moral courage. No need to take notes: Pastor Kiha will give you this copy when he is pau.
I leave you with the 10 principles on which I built my life. I give them to you.
Number 1 – Family first. Friends included. Well maybe not all of my friends. You know which ones.…just kidding.
#2 – Show moral courage. Never let a friend down. (am I right friends, did I ever let you down? If I did don’t answer.) Speak up for what is right, now matter how unpopular. Do the right thing…Do the right thing. Talking about doing the right thing…Kev did you pay your parking tickets yet? Tiffany did you get that IRA yet?
#3 – Never pity yourself. Never give up. Fight bravely as I did, right to the end. That’s who we are as Mukais
#4 – Show humility. You can be humble and stand your ground, but listen to what the other side is saying, and back off when you know you are wrong. (Nobody knows this better than your mom, she humbly admitted to me she was wrong so many times. But I can be humble about it.)
#5 – It’s ok to make mistakes, but learn from them. Best not to make the same mistake twice. Like the time at your dance performance Kelsey when the whole videotape was of the wrong dancer. Sorry, it sure looked like you.
#6 – Give people second chances. Don’t say something you can’t take back. A good example of this is when I am negotiating for a car, a dog or at a garage sale and your mom says “oh is that all?” Can’t take it back. Gotta pay full price now.
#7 – Have fun and be positive. Take risks, but be prepared to hold your hands up if you get caught. That didn’t come out right.” Look at the glass half-full. Look for reasons to do something, not reasons to say “no” like when Kelsey went to the Dominican Republic and I was afraid of the shootings there. I didn’t say no she could not go. Instead I researched and taught her to run in a serpentine fashion. Take risks, live each day to its fullest and always do something that makes you smile and laugh. Talking about laughing. That’s Number 8.
#8 – Learn from my great wit and laugh a lot. Laugh at yourself and at others. Like all the times the magicians shows where I was “the show.” You will get more of what you want if you can give someone more of what they desire. #9 – Always look for a deal. But please don’t take your mother when trying to make a deal! Oh we covered that one.
OK, Number 9. Stay away from those get rich quick schemes. That goes for Keoki and Marc too.
#10 – Be proud of who are and where you come from. Always put the interests of your siblings first. Serve each other. Take a look at each other. And always respect age, as age equals wisdom, as demonstrated by me… the ultimate wise guy.
Tiffany, Kelsey and Kevin: I am proud of you. Of all your accomplishments, schooling, sports and dance. I am proud of you. I could have said this more. I love you. Heaven is real. It’s a real place with real people. It gives you a purpose and meaning. Because it’s real, this goodbye is temporary.
Karen, my bride for all these years. You know how I loved to go to parties just to watch you be the life of the party making people laugh making fun of me. I am so proud of what we have done together—especially these three. Heaven is real. Because it’s real, not even death can stop my love for you. I am waiting for you. I love you all.
Dad
PS. You will be happy to know there is no nutcracker ballet or NJB games here in heaven. It must be in that other place because God knows how I suffered through too many of those.
Kevin's Speech About Dad
First off, I want to thank everyone who took time out of their busy lives today to celebrate Dad’s life with me and my family. The last few months have been the toughest that we’ve had to endure, and I can honestly say that we would not be as strong as we are now without the support of every person in this room. Whether it was visiting us in the hospital, sharing pictures and stories about my Dad, or even just sending a simple text saying that we’re in your thoughts and prayers, it’s been a tremendous help to know that we all have an amazing support system, and that so many people love us - and most importantly love my Dad. Some people here are mere acquaintances and others have been lifelong friends of his, but you really didn’t have to interact with my Dad for more than a few minutes to know the things he most stood for, and to recognize what a great man he was.
My Dad grew from humble beginnings in a small, single-bathroom, Kaimuki home, that he shared with 8 other family members. With his Dad passing away when he was 13, he helped his older brother take care of the family, which included his Mom and two sisters. After graduating from Kaimuki in 1963, he was drafted into the military - stationed in Germany and Vietnam for two and a half years. When he returned, he received his technical degree and began work at HawaiianTel, where he would stay for 33 years before retiring in 2003. As far back as memory can recall, his friends remember him for his cool, calm demeanor, as well as his witty and sarcastic humor. From then through now, he was commonly described by those around him as a humble, caring, dependable, and easy-going person who considered family to be the most important thing in his life. From a young age, family always came first, and he spoke fondly of his great childhood memories in the Mukai Palolo home. Throughout his life, he made a point to continue contact with both the Mukai and Yamamoto sides of the family.
Dad did whatever was necessary for our family and never complained doing it. Whether it was driving me and my sisters to school, to practice, to rehearsal, or to games, sometimes all in the same day - he never made it seem like a burden. As my grandma aged into her 90’s he built her a studio home in our backyard so she could live closer to us. After Mom’s surgeries he acted for months as her personal chauffeur. While he was never the most emotive person, he was always able to clearly convey his love for us through all of the thoughtful and unconditional things that he did.
He always strived to improve himself and to make sure the lives of his children were better than his own. Despite his humble upbringing, he saved up enough money to purchase his first condo when he was 24 and his first home when he was 27. Despite his meager athletic prowess, he was reading basketball books and teaching me how to dribble a basketball by the time I was six. Despite the fact he didn’t obtain a full college degree, he – along with my Mom - sacrificed everything to ensure my sisters and I could attend Punahou and eventually receive our Master’s and – in Kelsey’s case - Doctorate degree. That was my dad’s biggest and greatest life goal: to provide me and my sisters with a quality education. I know that depending on who you speak with Punahou was either the best or worst decision my parents ever made for us (Joking).
Dad was an extremely smart man. What he lacked in formal education he more than made up with in natural acuity, his love for reading, and his ability to learn things on his own. He always told me and my sisters the story of how back in 1963 he remembers walking out of the SAT’s positive that he didn’t get a single question wrong. Unfortunately, as he told it, UH lost all the SAT scores taken that day and he would have to retake it, to which he politely declined. When we would ask why he didn’t retake it, he would shrug his shoulders and say, “I just didn’t feel like it.” As funny and unbelievable as the story is to us, I think the most telling part is that none of us could ever confidently dispute him because there’s always a large part of us that believes he was absolutely capable of getting a perfect score on the SAT even without studying for it - or, for that matter, caring enough about it to take it a second time. His love to consume and retain knowledge was second-to-none, and he didn’t have to prove it to anyone - similar to how he acted in everything else in his life.
Most memories of Dad revolve around his quietly endearing qualities. The first thing a lot of you mention is his “crooked,” or wry smile that he always wore. Nothing ever got him down. His co-workers of 30 years say that he was always the one in the office cheering others up when things got tough. Working in a Customer Complaint office, Dad’s easy-going personality made it such that even the customers who called in to complain loved speaking with him. He loved to laugh and make others laugh. His quick, dry, and witty humor is characterized by his love for TV sitcoms such as Seinfeld, Cheers, MASH, and more recently, 30 Rock and The Office. Growing up, he taught me and my sisters how to have a sense of humor and laugh at ourselves...most of the time by letting us laugh at him.
The stories of Dad acting angrily or hastily are few and far between. Even of the ones my sisters and I can remember those stories are still never a bad memory to us. One particular Thursday night sticks out in my head. I remember I was playing video games into the night, and as I was playing my Dad was repeatedly pestering me about my homework and weeknight bedtime, which wasn’t all too uncommon when I was younger. He kept asking me: “Have you done your homework yet,” “When are you going to do it,” and “You should think about going to sleep soon,” and unlike on most nights, on this night I chose to brush him off everytime. I guess he asked me one too many times and what followed was one of the few instances of my childhood that I remember my Dad being visibly angry and very seriously lecturing me about my study and sleeping habits. Seeing as how this was such a rare occurrence for him, I was crying uncontrollably and after about half an hour he finally ordered me to go to bed. A few minutes later, as tears continued to roll down my face, my Dad walked into my room and asked what time I want to leave the next morning for school. At this point I was confused beyond belief, and I angrily informed him that the next day was a holiday and I didn’t have school. I’ll never forget his face. He was speechless for a few seconds, and when he finally spoke, he tried to force me out of bed and watch TV with him. I gave in around the third time he asked me - I wasn’t good at staying mad at him for long. He didn’t ever have to formally apologize for me to know how sorry he was. I can still feel it to this day.
We all consider ourselves extremely lucky that this story was probably the most out of line Dad ever was. That really was him to a T – not only with us but with everyone – he had very few moments of weakness. He was the rock of whatever group he was a part of and you could always trust him to be the steadfast constant you need when times are tough. Even at a young age, when being drafted took away his supposed-to-be college years, he was still sending money back home to support his family. To me Dad is one of the toughest and bravest people I knew. No matter what, my Dad always took the lemons that life handed him and made amazing lemonade out of it.
Another common theme we’ve been hearing about my Dad, and this echoes the sentiments of mine and my family’s, is that it is difficult to think of specific stories about my Dad that you can point to and say, “This really summed up everything about Mel.” To me, this doesn’t mean that my Dad wasn’t memorable nor does it mean he wasn’t special to the people he interacted with.
Instead, when you do things the right way all the time people don’t necessarily remember all the great things you did, because at the time it was simply the right thing to do - and I firmly believe this is the case with Dad. He always did the right thing - always chose the path of most integrity. And whether someone was there to witness it or not, you could always count on him to act the way he knew he should. More than anyone else I know, he lived his life the right way.
As I said before, his life’s mission was to be a provider and caretaker for his family. But who he considered to be his family extended far beyond his own household. He has always treated everyone like his own family and what has happened is that there are so many people - many of them here today - who consider him to be so. He was never one to pass judgements on to others and no matter where he was or who he was with, he always acted as himself. On top of all this, he acted unconditionally, not expecting, and many times actively avoiding, any acknowledgement for the things he did for others.
It’s natural to hope that the reward for living the right way is living the longest life possible. And by this mindset it is easy to become saddened and believe that my Dad was shortchanged, that he was robbed of the reward that he so deserved. Up until the exact day he was admitted to the ICU, he was a very healthy 69 year-old – and even more importantly, he was a 69-year old with dark black hair that he never dyed once, despite what his closest friends might accuse him of (Joking). Dad, you can thank me later for clearing that up for everyone. In all seriousness, it really did seem like he was primed to successfully sail into the later phases of his life. In fact, he would always joke about how much he was looking forward to us taking care of him for a change. Unfortunately, he was dealt a bad hand that even he couldn’t overcome. But maybe the reward for living the right way isn’t the longest life but instead, maybe the reward for living the right way is the outpouring of genuine love you receive when it’s your time to go. Life is fleeting, but the legacy you leave behind lingers long after you take your last breath here on Earth. My Dad did a lot of things right. I believe it has paid off in the amount of lives he has touched and it clearly shows today in this room.
I have seldom considered the idea that death can be a beautiful thing. Mostly, because what death represents is so terrifyingly scary in many ways. But what I have seen in the past month and especially today can only be most aptly described as “beautiful”. The culmination of a mixed community of people here to honor someone who has never once asked to be honored his entire life – makes me and my family happier than anyone can know. He’s helped many people in a manner so quietly and in the background that I am sure all of us never really understood the magnitude of the outreach of his love. To see how one soft-spoken individual can impact a community as large as this is proof that you don’t have to be the center of attention for people to take notice – treating people with unconditional love and respect can silently command the attention of anyone who happens to be standing in that person’s path.
For those here who wish to honor my Dad, I’d like to take a page out of his book and encourage everyone here to unconditionally love and respect people the way that he did. Because really, it doesn’t take much effort. Instead, it is a mental choice to live the way you know you should, to be true to yourself about what it means to treat people how you would want to be treated. I mentioned before that the problem with life is that it is inherently fleeting, and eventually your opportunity to grow your life’s meaning can be gone all too abruptly. Once you are gone, it is up to those around you to sustain your legacy, to make sure that the values you lived by and the impact that you made on the lives around you, don’t go to waste.
And so with that said, paying respect to and honoring my Dad doesn’t end today. It is my hope that we all learn from his humility, his kindness, his family values, so that his legacy never ends. One of my Dad’s closest friends put it best when he said that, “Life goes on albeit with one less individual, who truly exemplified what the world now is virtually devoid of - common sense, compassion, understanding and fellowship for humankind.”
You’re a great man, Dad. You are my role model for how to be a good husband, father, son, brother, friend, and just overall human being. While we may not always remember every story that you filled our lives with, I promise to always honor your legacy and to never forget the way you made me feel during our all-too-short time together.
To conclude my family’s tribute to Dad, I want to read a short passage my Mom wrote to him.
Mel, talking about you like this is not something I had ever planned on doing.
I feel blessed to have had 31 years with you… my soul mate, best friend and life partner. You gave me 3 beautiful children, who I see more of you in today than ever before.
Besides teaching me how to wash clothes and that having checks left in the checkbook doesn’t mean there was more money to spend, you taught me how to be a good person. I cannot find the words to sum you up so perfectly as you are yourself. There is a reason why my friends called you “Saint Mel”.
You were decent to the core with strong family values. You were wise and brave. You had an infectious smile and laugh that no one could break, a clever sense of humor and quick wit that everyone enjoyed. Those around you knew they could call you for anything … you would give the shirt off your back without a second thought.
There are so many things I am going to miss enjoying with you: our Christmas Tree and other holiday decorations, your delicious Portuguese Bean Soup at New Year’s, your humorous Halloween signs that cautioned greedy trick or treaters that Santa sees all.
Our parties and BBQs won’t be the same without you cooking and grilling, organizing the beer and soda coolers. The jokes I hear won’t be the same without you there to explain them to me. Going to the doctor won’t be the same without you tattling on me for not following their orders.
I’m already deeply missing all the little things about our relationship: falling asleep next to you with your oldies music blasting through your iPod earphones, then me taking your book off your chest once you’ve fallen asleep. I miss texting you, getting your funny emails, and coming home to your home-cooked meals. For as long as I live, I’m going to miss scrounging the house looking for your missing glasses, keys, checkbook, and phone.
You knew how to take care of me better than anyone else did, and you always loved doing it. Whenever I was having a rough day, you knew exactly how to cheer me up. God did me right by bringing you into my life …although the pain of your loss is so great, I’m certainly happier than if I didn’t have you at all.
I love you, Mel. You are my man who cannot be replaced in my heart. You lived your life the best way you could. This is evident by the people here today, all honoring and missing you. Please continue to guide me and watch over our children. You will always live in our hearts. I and the children love you very much.
My Dad grew from humble beginnings in a small, single-bathroom, Kaimuki home, that he shared with 8 other family members. With his Dad passing away when he was 13, he helped his older brother take care of the family, which included his Mom and two sisters. After graduating from Kaimuki in 1963, he was drafted into the military - stationed in Germany and Vietnam for two and a half years. When he returned, he received his technical degree and began work at HawaiianTel, where he would stay for 33 years before retiring in 2003. As far back as memory can recall, his friends remember him for his cool, calm demeanor, as well as his witty and sarcastic humor. From then through now, he was commonly described by those around him as a humble, caring, dependable, and easy-going person who considered family to be the most important thing in his life. From a young age, family always came first, and he spoke fondly of his great childhood memories in the Mukai Palolo home. Throughout his life, he made a point to continue contact with both the Mukai and Yamamoto sides of the family.
Dad did whatever was necessary for our family and never complained doing it. Whether it was driving me and my sisters to school, to practice, to rehearsal, or to games, sometimes all in the same day - he never made it seem like a burden. As my grandma aged into her 90’s he built her a studio home in our backyard so she could live closer to us. After Mom’s surgeries he acted for months as her personal chauffeur. While he was never the most emotive person, he was always able to clearly convey his love for us through all of the thoughtful and unconditional things that he did.
He always strived to improve himself and to make sure the lives of his children were better than his own. Despite his humble upbringing, he saved up enough money to purchase his first condo when he was 24 and his first home when he was 27. Despite his meager athletic prowess, he was reading basketball books and teaching me how to dribble a basketball by the time I was six. Despite the fact he didn’t obtain a full college degree, he – along with my Mom - sacrificed everything to ensure my sisters and I could attend Punahou and eventually receive our Master’s and – in Kelsey’s case - Doctorate degree. That was my dad’s biggest and greatest life goal: to provide me and my sisters with a quality education. I know that depending on who you speak with Punahou was either the best or worst decision my parents ever made for us (Joking).
Dad was an extremely smart man. What he lacked in formal education he more than made up with in natural acuity, his love for reading, and his ability to learn things on his own. He always told me and my sisters the story of how back in 1963 he remembers walking out of the SAT’s positive that he didn’t get a single question wrong. Unfortunately, as he told it, UH lost all the SAT scores taken that day and he would have to retake it, to which he politely declined. When we would ask why he didn’t retake it, he would shrug his shoulders and say, “I just didn’t feel like it.” As funny and unbelievable as the story is to us, I think the most telling part is that none of us could ever confidently dispute him because there’s always a large part of us that believes he was absolutely capable of getting a perfect score on the SAT even without studying for it - or, for that matter, caring enough about it to take it a second time. His love to consume and retain knowledge was second-to-none, and he didn’t have to prove it to anyone - similar to how he acted in everything else in his life.
Most memories of Dad revolve around his quietly endearing qualities. The first thing a lot of you mention is his “crooked,” or wry smile that he always wore. Nothing ever got him down. His co-workers of 30 years say that he was always the one in the office cheering others up when things got tough. Working in a Customer Complaint office, Dad’s easy-going personality made it such that even the customers who called in to complain loved speaking with him. He loved to laugh and make others laugh. His quick, dry, and witty humor is characterized by his love for TV sitcoms such as Seinfeld, Cheers, MASH, and more recently, 30 Rock and The Office. Growing up, he taught me and my sisters how to have a sense of humor and laugh at ourselves...most of the time by letting us laugh at him.
The stories of Dad acting angrily or hastily are few and far between. Even of the ones my sisters and I can remember those stories are still never a bad memory to us. One particular Thursday night sticks out in my head. I remember I was playing video games into the night, and as I was playing my Dad was repeatedly pestering me about my homework and weeknight bedtime, which wasn’t all too uncommon when I was younger. He kept asking me: “Have you done your homework yet,” “When are you going to do it,” and “You should think about going to sleep soon,” and unlike on most nights, on this night I chose to brush him off everytime. I guess he asked me one too many times and what followed was one of the few instances of my childhood that I remember my Dad being visibly angry and very seriously lecturing me about my study and sleeping habits. Seeing as how this was such a rare occurrence for him, I was crying uncontrollably and after about half an hour he finally ordered me to go to bed. A few minutes later, as tears continued to roll down my face, my Dad walked into my room and asked what time I want to leave the next morning for school. At this point I was confused beyond belief, and I angrily informed him that the next day was a holiday and I didn’t have school. I’ll never forget his face. He was speechless for a few seconds, and when he finally spoke, he tried to force me out of bed and watch TV with him. I gave in around the third time he asked me - I wasn’t good at staying mad at him for long. He didn’t ever have to formally apologize for me to know how sorry he was. I can still feel it to this day.
We all consider ourselves extremely lucky that this story was probably the most out of line Dad ever was. That really was him to a T – not only with us but with everyone – he had very few moments of weakness. He was the rock of whatever group he was a part of and you could always trust him to be the steadfast constant you need when times are tough. Even at a young age, when being drafted took away his supposed-to-be college years, he was still sending money back home to support his family. To me Dad is one of the toughest and bravest people I knew. No matter what, my Dad always took the lemons that life handed him and made amazing lemonade out of it.
Another common theme we’ve been hearing about my Dad, and this echoes the sentiments of mine and my family’s, is that it is difficult to think of specific stories about my Dad that you can point to and say, “This really summed up everything about Mel.” To me, this doesn’t mean that my Dad wasn’t memorable nor does it mean he wasn’t special to the people he interacted with.
Instead, when you do things the right way all the time people don’t necessarily remember all the great things you did, because at the time it was simply the right thing to do - and I firmly believe this is the case with Dad. He always did the right thing - always chose the path of most integrity. And whether someone was there to witness it or not, you could always count on him to act the way he knew he should. More than anyone else I know, he lived his life the right way.
As I said before, his life’s mission was to be a provider and caretaker for his family. But who he considered to be his family extended far beyond his own household. He has always treated everyone like his own family and what has happened is that there are so many people - many of them here today - who consider him to be so. He was never one to pass judgements on to others and no matter where he was or who he was with, he always acted as himself. On top of all this, he acted unconditionally, not expecting, and many times actively avoiding, any acknowledgement for the things he did for others.
It’s natural to hope that the reward for living the right way is living the longest life possible. And by this mindset it is easy to become saddened and believe that my Dad was shortchanged, that he was robbed of the reward that he so deserved. Up until the exact day he was admitted to the ICU, he was a very healthy 69 year-old – and even more importantly, he was a 69-year old with dark black hair that he never dyed once, despite what his closest friends might accuse him of (Joking). Dad, you can thank me later for clearing that up for everyone. In all seriousness, it really did seem like he was primed to successfully sail into the later phases of his life. In fact, he would always joke about how much he was looking forward to us taking care of him for a change. Unfortunately, he was dealt a bad hand that even he couldn’t overcome. But maybe the reward for living the right way isn’t the longest life but instead, maybe the reward for living the right way is the outpouring of genuine love you receive when it’s your time to go. Life is fleeting, but the legacy you leave behind lingers long after you take your last breath here on Earth. My Dad did a lot of things right. I believe it has paid off in the amount of lives he has touched and it clearly shows today in this room.
I have seldom considered the idea that death can be a beautiful thing. Mostly, because what death represents is so terrifyingly scary in many ways. But what I have seen in the past month and especially today can only be most aptly described as “beautiful”. The culmination of a mixed community of people here to honor someone who has never once asked to be honored his entire life – makes me and my family happier than anyone can know. He’s helped many people in a manner so quietly and in the background that I am sure all of us never really understood the magnitude of the outreach of his love. To see how one soft-spoken individual can impact a community as large as this is proof that you don’t have to be the center of attention for people to take notice – treating people with unconditional love and respect can silently command the attention of anyone who happens to be standing in that person’s path.
For those here who wish to honor my Dad, I’d like to take a page out of his book and encourage everyone here to unconditionally love and respect people the way that he did. Because really, it doesn’t take much effort. Instead, it is a mental choice to live the way you know you should, to be true to yourself about what it means to treat people how you would want to be treated. I mentioned before that the problem with life is that it is inherently fleeting, and eventually your opportunity to grow your life’s meaning can be gone all too abruptly. Once you are gone, it is up to those around you to sustain your legacy, to make sure that the values you lived by and the impact that you made on the lives around you, don’t go to waste.
And so with that said, paying respect to and honoring my Dad doesn’t end today. It is my hope that we all learn from his humility, his kindness, his family values, so that his legacy never ends. One of my Dad’s closest friends put it best when he said that, “Life goes on albeit with one less individual, who truly exemplified what the world now is virtually devoid of - common sense, compassion, understanding and fellowship for humankind.”
You’re a great man, Dad. You are my role model for how to be a good husband, father, son, brother, friend, and just overall human being. While we may not always remember every story that you filled our lives with, I promise to always honor your legacy and to never forget the way you made me feel during our all-too-short time together.
To conclude my family’s tribute to Dad, I want to read a short passage my Mom wrote to him.
Mel, talking about you like this is not something I had ever planned on doing.
I feel blessed to have had 31 years with you… my soul mate, best friend and life partner. You gave me 3 beautiful children, who I see more of you in today than ever before.
Besides teaching me how to wash clothes and that having checks left in the checkbook doesn’t mean there was more money to spend, you taught me how to be a good person. I cannot find the words to sum you up so perfectly as you are yourself. There is a reason why my friends called you “Saint Mel”.
You were decent to the core with strong family values. You were wise and brave. You had an infectious smile and laugh that no one could break, a clever sense of humor and quick wit that everyone enjoyed. Those around you knew they could call you for anything … you would give the shirt off your back without a second thought.
There are so many things I am going to miss enjoying with you: our Christmas Tree and other holiday decorations, your delicious Portuguese Bean Soup at New Year’s, your humorous Halloween signs that cautioned greedy trick or treaters that Santa sees all.
Our parties and BBQs won’t be the same without you cooking and grilling, organizing the beer and soda coolers. The jokes I hear won’t be the same without you there to explain them to me. Going to the doctor won’t be the same without you tattling on me for not following their orders.
I’m already deeply missing all the little things about our relationship: falling asleep next to you with your oldies music blasting through your iPod earphones, then me taking your book off your chest once you’ve fallen asleep. I miss texting you, getting your funny emails, and coming home to your home-cooked meals. For as long as I live, I’m going to miss scrounging the house looking for your missing glasses, keys, checkbook, and phone.
You knew how to take care of me better than anyone else did, and you always loved doing it. Whenever I was having a rough day, you knew exactly how to cheer me up. God did me right by bringing you into my life …although the pain of your loss is so great, I’m certainly happier than if I didn’t have you at all.
I love you, Mel. You are my man who cannot be replaced in my heart. You lived your life the best way you could. This is evident by the people here today, all honoring and missing you. Please continue to guide me and watch over our children. You will always live in our hearts. I and the children love you very much.