Daddy’s Eulogy
Our family would like to thank you for being here today to share in the celebration of a life well lived. Dad had six children, and they voted me to do the eulogy. It was unanimous, because I am the talker! I thought, how do I write a eulogy for a man such as Dad? Daddy was 88 years old, raised by a single mother in the early 1920’s. He learned at an early age to work hard and to take care of others. He always helped his mother and his younger brother, Howard. He stood up for what he believed in. He never thought he was better than anyone else.
Dad always wanted to be a doctor; from the time he was just a boy. He entered the navy at the age of 17, lying about his age. He served on submarines in World War II, becoming a chief pharmacist mate; and at the time, was the youngest Chief Petty Officer in the Navy. He bought his mother a house at the age of 21. He met and married his first wife in Brisbane, Australia. They returned to the States, where Marie was born. Marie’s mother took her back to Australia 6 years later, and they were divorced 2 years after that. Dad had entered medical school. He got his degrees from Duke University and Chapel Hill. He went to the University of Arkansas for his residency in Pediatrics, where he met my mother. They came back to Rutherfordton, the community Dad grew up in and loved, and had David, Katharine, Peter, me, and Betsy. He was a husband, a father, a grandfather and great grandfather, an uncle, a friend and the best pediatrician ever.
I was talking to a friend of mine New Year’s Eve and I told her I was writing Dad’s eulogy. She said, all you can do is express your relationship with your dad. So I want to tell you what I remember. I remember Dad being gone all day and all hours of the night. I remember patients coming to the back door. Dad used to come home for lunch, gobble down his food, and take a 20-minute nap. I remember staying at Granny’s house so Mom and Dad could go to England or Spain or Greece, because to get away from the phone, they had to go out of the country. He took us to our cabin in Busick, where I remember him jerking the phone off the wall one time. We didn’t have a phone there for some time after that! I remember Jack Horner’s, the skating rink, the Putt-Putt, the Mini Mart and the Bantam Chef. He took us backpacking and camping, and airplane riding, and sailing. He cussed when we left the back door open or turned the thermostat too high. He had a sailor’s mouth and was always a sailor at heart! I’ll never forget the day that Peter, Betsy, Chuck, Sandra, Ronnie and I took off to Bermuda with Dad on his 38-foot Seafarer. Mom thought she would never see us again. He sailed to Australia, taking his grandsons, Lee and Warren. He made a trip to North Africa as well. Ten years ago, he sailed with two friends from St. Croix to Florida and we thought he was lost at sea for about three weeks. He really was lost! He loved to garden. He was especially good at planting and picking, but he didn’t like the weeding. (I take after him like that!) And I remember the Old Grand Dad. The ABC store stocked it just for him. When he set it up on the counter, he would say, “Is there any charge for this?” Every night, he would say, “I need my totty for the body.” And he would have his little glass of ginger ale and his little shot glass.
But first and foremost, Dad was a doctor. Who can forget the little brick office building, with cartoon characters on the inside walls? The balloons with feet, banana popsicles, Marjorie Geer or his bellowing laugh? He told children they had the Chinese Rot or the epizudics, or he was going to have to take out their gizzard. I remember as a child, if anybody in our family scratched their tail, Dad would make us line up and take pinworm medicine. It was awful, but it’s the only medicine I remember taking! He made house calls at all hours, often without his patients knowing. He stayed by an infant’s hospital bed, or he rode in an ambulance to Chapel Hill with a sick child. Our family has heard story after story of how Dad saved someone’s life. He was not only a brilliant man; he was a man who dedicated his life to helping others. He did it with kindness and cheerfulness. I know many of you here today have your own Dr. Lane story. He was loved by all, and as his family, we are so proud he was our father.
Dad saved my life, too. So I have to tell my Dr. Lane stories. At the age of two, the whole family had gotten a flu bug. After everyone was better, Dad realized I was still sick. When he checked me, he found I had an abscess at the back of my throat, which would have closed my airway. When I was three, Peter made me eat a chemistry set (Peter ate it with me) and Dad had to pump our stomachs out. When I was four, I fell off a table and almost bit my tongue off and it had to be sewn back on. At the age of 15, Dad picked me (and Tammy) up at the jail in Tryon when I got caught for driving without a license. On my 22nd birthday, Dad found I had a liver tumor. In a flash, he had me at Rutherford Hospital with Stewart Mooring doing an arteriogram. Then he took me to Duke for surgery. On my wedding day, he walked me down the aisle and when I delivered Zeb and Simon, he was there with us and he held them first. How fortunate am I?
Everyone knows that Dad was always jolly and laughing. As his family, we watched Dad decline with dementia for 25 years. As his Alzheimer’s disease progressed, he continued to be happy. Even in the depths of dementia, he would say, “It’s a beautiful day, a beautiful day.” He would tell people, “You’re looking good! You hang in there!” He spread sunshine wherever he was. At Life Care, he was loved by everyone there and was the life of the party. I know they’ll miss him so. Mom took care of Dad for years. She dealt with him losing his license, and forgetting how many Old Grand Dad’s he had had. One summer, he ordered about $2,000 dollars worth of seed for the garden. He kept forgetting what he’d ordered. Seed and plants kept coming and coming to the house. He planted seed everywhere and still went out to Jim McClure’s and picked his garden when he wasn’t looking! Mama would ask where he got the tomatoes or corn and we all knew it came from Jim’s garden. Mom answered his questions over and over and she showed us all what patience really is. After mom passed away, Betsy’s family took care of Dad for 9 months, and for the past 21 months, my family has had the privilege of caring for him. Today, I want to thank my husband, Van, for allowing me to bring Dad in to our home; to Van, Zeb and Simon, thank you for all the love and care you gave him. Peter had dinner for Dad every Tuesday and David and Susan cooked for him every Wednesday. My whole family truly worked together to make it possible for Dad to be with us and I thank them all. I know that each one of them would like to be able to tell what Dad has done for them and what he meant to them.
As his daughter, how can I stand up here and even begin to tell all he did, or all he was? You know, Dad never was a church going man. For years, he worked every Sunday. But if I have to think of a person who lived a life of servant hood, as Jesus taught us to do, I think of my dad. He truly served children and his fellowman with all his heart, with a glad spirit, and with laughter in his soul. Over the months that Dad lived with us, he would look in the mirror and he would smile at himself. His eyes would twinkle as he looked back at me. I think he knew he had lived the good life, the way life was meant to be lived. We are here for each other. We are here to serve those who need us. Daddy did just that. When Dad first moved in with us, I would hear him praying and thanking God for all he had and all he had done. As time went on, he forgot most things. But he never forgot The Lord’s Prayer. He said it for us Thursday before Christmas as we gathered at Peter’s house for dinner. In closing today, I would like to ask you to say The Lord’s Prayer with me. But, I want you to do me a favor. At the end, when we say “forever”, I want us to say “and ever ” 5 times and I want us to say “Amen” 5 times, because that’s the way Dad said it. Let us pray……
