Family Service

The day after Dad passed away, Adel woke up early, went to the store, and cooked the whole family Boppa's traditional pancake breakfast.  All the kids said grace.  Isaac prayed for us not to forget Boppa. I felt like it was such a tribute to my dad, and I am fully confident that Adel will assume the role of servant-leader for the family, at least as far as breakfasts are concerned.  

This is the chapel where we had Dad's family memorial service.

The roses were special to DD, dad's mom.  Papa, her husband, brought her yellow roses at the birth of each of her four sons.  We had the kids pass them out to all the family members and then enjoyed the sweet family chaos that ensued as each family member placed a rose (or more than one) in the vase by Dad's portraits.

This was the centerpiece, also with pictures of Dad and family.

Dad's brothers (he was the second oldest brother). 

Lindsay and I with Dad's portrait. 

Here is what I shared at the service about my Dad:

When I was little, my dad was invincible, stronger than the Incredible Hulk.  He was fun, battling in the hallway with wrapping paper tubes, playing baseball in the street with all the neighborhood kids and our dog Clyde as the outfielder. He was gentle, letting Lindsay and I put barrettes in his hair and romp all around him while he napped on the carpet.  My dad could do no wrong in my eyes, which I know drove my mom crazy.

As a teenager, I started realizing I didn't like some of the traits I got from my dad: big feet, big hands, and the propensity to sweat profusely. But as I have grown up, I have learned even those physical traits are not all bad (except for the sweat). I can't borrow mom's shoes like Lindsay can, but I can reach the top shelf because Dad gave me height. My body was built for running, like Dad's.  And my hands are a living memorial to Dad's strength.

Far more important than physical traits, my dad has passed down a legacy of character.  Everyone knows my Dad was a man of few words. It was by his actions that he impacted the lives of others.

 One morning as a high school student, I was facing a very hard day at school. Passing Dad in the hallway, I began to cry and told him I didn't think I had the strength to go to school that day. My dad didn't lecture me, or give me advice. He didn't promise to pray for me. He put his hand gently on my shoulder and prayed strength over me right there. It wasn't long or dramatic, but it impacted my life, teaching me that God is my strength when life is hard.

My dad quietly stood for principles higher than himself, and he did not back down in the face of opposition. He passed down the character of hard work and strength, and the fruit of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.  Dad wasn't perfect, but he grew in these, his daughters will grow in them, and his grandchildren will continue to grow in them, as we all grow to be more like Dad, more like Jesus.

Halfway through the service, the pastor specifically addressed the grandchildren, which was lovely, and then dismissed them to go outside with one of Lindsay's friends, Tami, who had offered to lead them in a time of crafting, singing, and learning about heaven.

We were so happy with the way the whole family service went.  It was perfect for us.  

After the memorial, Uncle Tom treated us to lunch at Papadeaux.  It was the first time I had really been able to relax and enjoy the company of my family, and I really appreciated it and thought it was the perfect end to the service.  

  

And I wanted to take photos of the flowers that were sent...

Thank you, friends, for the beautiful support you have sent.