A Son's Farewell to His Dad

A Son's Farewell to His Dad
Copyright © Jose Love
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This is the message I had planned to deliver at
my dad's funeral if the proceedings had not gone
so long. All of us know that dad was not a fan of
long services. I wasn't about to offend him, even
in death.

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My Tribute:

Thanks to all of you for attending the celebration
of the life of our beloved father, Mr. Charlie
Love. I'm certain most of you marvel at the dates
on his obituary (October 7,1909 - February 1,
2007). you find it remarkable because these dates
represent 97 long years of life. But I suggest to
you that there is a less obvious part of that date
that is even more remarkable. The part I refer to
is the "dash" (-) between the dates. You see, the
dash represents the kind of life you lived. It is
what distinguishes us. It is what makes us unique;
our DNA, so to speak. It is so unique that we don't


need to make a visit to Jerry Springer to find out
if it belongs to us. The evidence within the dash
is so overwhelming that it cries out at its owner.
Thus, my dad's dash is evidence of his life.

Now, if you will indulge me, I will tell you some
of what the evidence reveals. The first thing that
the evidence reveals is that he was not a perfect.
He, like the rest of us, had flaws. I should know
because I inherited some of them while adding some
of my own. The evidence shows that he was an

entrepreneur. You won't find a bunch of employers

on his resume because throughout his working life,
he was self-employed. So, if any of you grand kids
or great grand kids ever wonder why you find it
difficult to work for someone else, you need look
no further than the "dash". However, if you wonder
why you don't want to work at all, then you're just
lazy. That has nothing to do with your grand
father's "dash". This man worked on days when most
of you wouldn't have got out of bed.

The second thing that the evidence shows is a man
of dignity. He was respected because he was
respectful. He always wore his pants up around his
his waist and never below his butt whether he was
on the church yard or the court yard. He never
'sagged'. As a matter of fact, if you grands and
great-grands would take the time and spell the word
'SAGGIN' backwards (NIGGAS), some of you would
probably stop 'SAGGIN' too.

Finally, the evidence reveals a 'real man'. It reveals
a man with one wife, one church, one God. He outlived
his wife, but made sure that he was with her every day
during the illness that took her life. He remained
an advisor to church officials even while he
convalesced. He held counsel with his God every day
of his waning years. If the 'dash' could write his
epithet, it would read, "He made a difference!"

Thank you for your indulgence. Goodbye my dad,
goodbye my friend.

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