Mom and Dad

Today marks 20 years since my mother passed away from a painful, 4-year battle with breast cancer. It's hard to believe it's been that long, she was only 57. I was much younger then and was not able to express my grief, especially in public.

Today was also the day of my father's funeral in Norway. Since the service was conducted in Norwegian, and I was the only child of my father's who was able to be here, I wrote something for the minister to say on my behalf, in English. Here it is...

My Dad was a loving father. The man I knew was generous, quiet, and prone to pondering, and he liked to kid around at times. He enjoyed crossword puzzles while eating his breakfast, he liked the Road Runner cartoons, he enjoyed watching soccer, and he loved turkey dinner with pumpkin pie. 

My memories of him when I was a child are of rides in the Ford car, A&W drive-in, Dairy Queen ice cream, Smarties, family picnics along the river, tobogganing, and ice skating – on a rink he made in the back yard.

My Dad always enjoyed get-togethers with family and friends. In his later years he dedicated much of his time to researching the family tree and contacting long lost relatives, real or potential, and he often visited them in their homes, where they chatted like old friends. Hundreds of pictures document all the people my father considered family. 

Since my father’s death I have had the privilege to read messages sent from old business friends, and that has given me a new insight into the man who was my father. The words ‘mentor, friend, good person’, were frequently used to describe how people remember Dad. He taught them so much, he was respectful of different cultures, he was a hard worker, he gave everything.

I am sad that my Dad will not get to visit my home in Mexico, or see his first great-grandchild, or eat corn-on-the-cob during a visit to Canada. I hope his spirit will find us, and if indeed they do serve corn-on-the-cob, pumpkin pie, and turkey with stuffing up there with the angels, my Dad will really be in Heaven. And knowing him, he has a family reunion planned for when we all meet again.

Thank you for everything, Dad. I love you.

Your daughter, Sue

I am the product of my mother and my father. I have my father's eyes, and his nose. My siblings look more like my mother, yet those who have never met my father, but knew my mother, can see her resemblance in me somehow. 

My father died on the same date as his mother. Did she come for him? Maybe...

A child close to my father here in Norway, two days after his death, said that he could see my Dad up in the sky, and announced that he had married. We had to laugh. But maybe it's possible?!