My dad’s eulogy

15 years ago, I wrote this post on Father’s Day. Last Saturday, these were my remarks as we celebrated his life and legacy…

“There is something really powerful in the words of Friedrich Schiller, the Austrian poet, which I shared with my dad for Father’s Day back in 1983: “Nicht Fleisch und Blut; das Herz macht uns zu Vätern und Söhnen.”—“Not flesh and blood but hearts make us fathers and sons.” Nobody lived that out more than my dad. Looking back, he didn’t just become my father by chance; he chose to be my dad through a simple, huge act of love. That choice changed my whole path in life and taught me what being a man and a father is really about.

Fifteen years ago on Father’s Day, right here in this church, it finally hit me. Watching him read the Epistle, I realized that everything I like about myself had his fingerprints all over it. Dad taught me that a Lohenry belongs at the front of the room. When they asked for readers for daily mass in 4th grade, my reaction was basically the 4th grade version of ‘hold my beer’—it was my job on Monday because it was his job on Sunday. By watching him lead with such confidence, I learned to love speaking, teaching, and a good pun among other things. To try and understand his world, I took a programming course in 1983. That Father’s Day, I gave him my final project and told him he could keep it because I was done with computers. The irony is that thirteen years later, I ended up at Apple. Today, with tech and communication as my daily work, he definitely got the last laugh.

He filled our home with books, passing on a love of reading that we shared even during his time in the hospital. He filled our lives with music; even now, I can’t listen to Dave Brubeck without picturing him tapping his wedding ring on the car roof to the beat of an FM jazz station. He taught me the necessity of a good laugh, and he showed me that real men aren’t afraid to feel deeply.

Talking with my mom recently, I realized something else: my father had an incredible spark and a constant drive to keep moving forward. When a stroke in 1963 left him without a job, he didn’t quit; he went door-to-door as a Fuller Brush salesman and eventually worked his way up to leading a company. Years later I could relate when I spent three years pushing carts and packing groceries at Costco to rebuild my own future. He showed me that no job is beneath you if you have character and that you can always start over as long as you keep trying.

To my sons who are here today: I want you to really feel the bond we have—not just being related, but that connection of the heart that makes us who we are. Let my recent accident be a reminder to all of us not to take the time we take for granted.

To finish, I’ll look to Schiller one more time: “Es lebt ein Stück von mir in dir”—”A piece of me lives on in you.” Because we were so close, my words and my work are his legacy. I’m so proud to say that I am my father’s son. Rest easy, Dad, knowing you gave me everything I needed for love and life. I love you.”