For My Dad

This is what I read at my fathers funeral in May. I thought I should post it here. Our lives are so short and not important unless we find ourselves investing in others. I pray that as I move forward I can invest and give to others in the simple way and big! 

May 9th, 2014

As I was thinking about what I wanted to share I thought of so many things. Music cranked up in the backyard, grilling chicken and BBQ. I thought about Michaels, D.J.s and Arnold's. Memories of neighbor hood cookouts, and friends always around flooded my mind. Sledding in the middle of the night, and yard sales on Saturday morning that made me smile. I AM a daddy's girl. We talked almost everyday, about silly stuff, maybe not by phone but by email or text. About his finds at the club, or his friends or what I was cooking for dinner, we would talk about the family, my kids, or what we would do the next time I came down to visit from NY or what I would cook him,which was never soon enough for either of us. We would talk about life, or remember the past. He was my go to person on a lot of things.

Bo Graves had a lot of great qualities but I think the one I hope I can cultivate in my life was how giving he was. For someone who always could find a reason to be upset he would was always ready share with others. I remember so many times where he would help people with lawn mowers, or bring them leftovers from our dinners. As a teenager almost every Sunday night he would cook a huge meal and whomever came home with us girls or showed up was welcome to grab a plate and eat. I remember Christmas time we would always have extra gifts wrapped for someone who may just stop by. He always was checking on our neighbors, or an friend going through a rough time. I remember hearing him yell Ramona is coming (our mailman for years) grab him a ice cream sandwich it's a hot one today. I remember him yelling I'd give you a beer if you could get away with it on the job.One specific day that sticks out in my memory clear as yesterday was the day he woke me up one friday during the summer. He said we are going to have hotdogs ready for the garbage and recycle men who come by today. He was ready too, buns, ketchup, mustard, relish, even cans of soda in a cooler. (My dad and his cooler). We sat out  in The front yard with the music blaring and cooked for the trucks as they came by. After awhile we had fed the neighborhood crews so he called the shop and told them to announce it to all the drivers, yep that was the day Dunaire Dr. had garbage trucks and recycling trucks lined up and down the road. I learned from my dad you can drop some cash in plate on Sunday or donated a dollar here and there  but actions is where the rubber meets the road. Giving to people, being there when they needed a friend, dropping a meal off to someone less fortunate, inviting someone over for the holidays who may not have family around and celebrating the people who are often times forgotten, that where it is at, that is what makes the difference in peoples lives.

So next times you see your mailman, or garbage collectors remember my dad and maybe take them a ice cream sandwich.