here is the eulogy i wrote for the best man i've ever had the fortune of knowing, my father. how lucky am i to have had such a model person in my life?
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i went through my head over and over as to what i would say in a few minutes that would even come close to paying homage to such a full and beautiful life as my father's.
how do i talk about my dad without talking about lsu football, cooking in huge creole crock pots, legendary fishing trips, planes, trains, boxing, the marines, or hundreds of pictures being taken at a time with no people in them, or him driving 900 miles to chapel hill just to help tow, donate and pick me up from a deceased car? well.. i can't because i just did.
(man could that guy make a jambalaya!)
but larger than the myriad of amusing beloved brilliant details of this man is the overarching gorgeous way that he lived his life, as clear as day to anyone. i remember as a tiny boy wondering why my brother jeffrey had chosen the somewhat uncommon act of asking his dad to be his best man at his wedding. completely naive. by now i know plain and simple that there was clearly no other choice. he was all three of his sons' best man.
i also remember being young and noticing that no matter what it was any of us three wanted to do in this world, that he was without question completely supportive. i thought at the time that such behavior was simply self-evident to being a dad. again, so naive. the more and more i exist in this world, the more it becomes painstakingly clear that it was like winning the lottery to actually get to have this particular guy for a father.
there's a youtube video with 3 million hits that is simply a young person asking, 'are you anybody's favorite person?' well it hit home because somewhere in the crux of the narcissistic emo navel-gazing of america lies the important probe into the way that we treat each other and whether or not our lives and personas actually make us worthy of being liked. of REALLY being liked. and this man was REALLY liked. i don't think any of us would have to imagine very hard to hear at least mentally any number of people present here a few months ago saying, 'dale i think you are my favorite person.' and it wouldn't be renee zelwegger saying it to hugh grant with some kind of huge lawn behind them and giant videomachines in front, it would be a person in real life being completely honest about someone who could make everybody smile about as easy as turning a knob. a volume knob. on a walkman playing the lsu game during the homily.
beyond just the prospect of being liked is the bigger rung of virtue. of living with grace. i remember my dad loving the idea of discipline, of being fascinated by the few honored with carrying out the changing of the guard, of honorable men in formulation with bayonets and succinct and forthright movement. in some way i think of this as a perfect metaphor for the way he lived, for him taking on the world, for him doing 80 bazilion things in a week, for his honor and value of his marriage, for his willingness to put all of his family before himself at all times, for his simple want to be a creature of god, for his dedication to his work and to his community.
sometimes i tell people this, but now i'll tell all of you. i'll never forget my father taking a young version of me aside and saying, 'you will never be able to fully understand the way in which i love you until it is time to have one of your own.' i daresay that way that he loved was with his whole being.
whether you're here because you know that he would've given you the shirt off his back (and you're here to claim that shirt?), or because the only reason you joined the men's club was because of his cooking, or because you used to rock out to john fred with him, or because he was the only sober one to pick you up out of your 2am kappa sig moment, or because he always asked how you were no matter what, or because he represents the age of chivalry, or because he is the love of your life and has been since you were age 17, or because you loved the story about him getting back my stolen bike or making jeffrey stop whining at his birthday party, or you used to love to just stand over the grill with him, or because you could never get enough of that perfect huge endlessly warm smile, you know that my dad affected anything and everything around him, and there we are all here to remember an incomparably beautiful man. may god bless him and keep him unto eternity, and may we his beloved family far and wide honor his memory in every conceivable way.
finally, since there are so many whose lives were touched uniquely and specially by dale, please... let all the stories, and the drinks and food, and the simple unbridled appreciation flow. there is so much goodness that we each cannot honestly keep up with it all. we probably want to hear every last legendary word.
