For They Rest From Their Labors
Depending on our age, certain days are burned into our memories. Pearl Harbor. President Kennedy’s assassination. 9/11.
For me, there is an additional day: September 23, 2000.
Some phone calls you never want to receive.
“Hello, is this Judy S.?”
“Yes. Who’s calling, please?”
“My name is –. There’s been an accident…”
One remembers the incredible kindness of strangers, the shock of friends, the grief of kin. The aftermath. The empty places now in family gatherings and photos where a father had always been.
I am fortunate, in that as an adult I had a good relationship with my father. He respected me, and I him. He wasn’t an easy man, but he was a good man, a deeply principled, honest and hard-working man. An inventive problem-solver, who left his mark in the engineering world that was his domain. A patriot, who fought in WWII and spent a life in service, first as a commissioned officer for his beloved Seabees, then eventually rising in his civilian career to become a District Chief for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.
But for me, most of all: he was Dad.
Michael Davinich, July 24, 1917 - September 23, 2000
Lux æterna luceat eis, Domine, cum sanctis tuis in æternum, quia pius es. Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis.
23 Sep 2007 JAS
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Hi Judy- this was beautiful. I wondered if everyone else in our family had the same reaction– 9/23 at 3:12pm Wisconsin time–the moment the Omega Seamaster was crushed. Now we have another time in February to ponder; and I’m sure we join the rest of humanity who have many dates they silently observe. Take care and love–
He sounds like a wonderful man that would leave many wonderful memories behind.
And that says it all, doesn’t it. Judy, I’m so sorry for such a sudden and wrenching loss. Having that good adult relationship with him has likely carried you thru some very difficult times since 2000.
My dad died in 1995 at the age of 63; one week shy of his 64th birthday. I too had a good, no great, adult relationship with my dad. I actually had that my entire life. He was larger-than-life - a true force of nature. He left a HUGE hole in my life; but I can honestly say that at the time of his death from kidney cancer, there wasn’t anything to say that hadn’t already been said.
That’s a gift that keeps on giving in my life.
Hey Vicki! Yeah, I wondered about that too, if 3:12 pm on Sept 23rd remains a “pause moment” for the whole clan. February 27th will be the same, won’t it? It’s surreal, and always will be, I suspect, as it is for everyone else who has those ’silent dates’ they observe. Lots of love back at’cha!
Sarah - many memories indeed! I should probably start writing those up, including the story about how the moles that lived in our lawn, which he battled his entire life in search of a mole-tunnel free property, followed him to the grave and beyond… cracks everyone in our family up every time we think about it!
Kris - your father, from what you’ve told me before, definitely was and is a ‘larger than life’ father. What a great way to put it - the gift that keeps on giving. Sixty-three is way too young - but there isn’t any age at which we can stand losing those we love, is there?
Judy - I sometimes think that losing an elderly loved one is easier - all that time and memories to cherish. But in the end, saying good-bye to someone we love - at any age - is just too damned hard to bear.
just (((((((((((((JUDY))))))))))))))))))))
d
I have a very strong relationship with my father as he raised all three of us kids. I am fortunate that he is still alive and farming everyday. He has instilled morals and values that will serve me well throughout my lifetime and the lifetime of my children. He knows what is important in life and knows what is not. Sometimes the most important aspects of life are the simpliest yet the hardest to learn. We all carry with us what we have learned from our parents and therefore they will live forever in our hearts and memories.
Mike was, among many, a major force for his family. However, THE major force, we believe, is an angelic host which has an unknown but quietly understood destiny for everybody. As you know, my father was among Mike’s best friends for a very long time. Mike would always kid Dave about how well life was treating the little guy. They were two guys who would stand side by side, one big, big force and one little big force who enjoyed the moments of life.
I used to kid Dave about his obligations before he left. I asked him to make sure he let me know before he checked out. He did. I made that request because, like the circumstances with Mike, my mom left in 1986 in a tough surprise. Force Majeure literally means “greater force”. These clauses excuse a party from liability if some unforeseen event beyond the control of that party prevents it from performing its obligations. Mike is excused.
Dave, wouldn’t you like to be a fly on the wall listening to the conversations between Mike and David O? I always wished I’d had a chance to meet your mom - Rachel always speaks so highly of her.