My Father's Eulogy from his memorial on March 18, 2006
Jack Eugene Ulstad Sr. April 5, 1928 – March 13, 2006
(Forgive me if this is very personal, or if most of it is just from my own experiences I had with my Dad, and my own feelings towards him, but it is my prayer that much of this is what you too have experienced being with my Father, and it will help you to accept this loss the way he would want us to)-
In the early years of my life, I was like most young kids… I took my Father (and Mother) for granted. I knew he loved me, but just never thought about it much. But he really looked after me, all of my family, and wanted the very best for me. Yet he never pushed me or forced me to do things… he patiently guided me.
As time went on, I began to realize how challenging it is to be a success in life, and began to get a glimpse of how grateful I should be for having a Father like him. But to be honest, I still had no real idea of just how special my Father was. Then, around 20 years ago, I was attending a Christian Men’s retreat and the focus of the retreat was on Father and son relationships. The pastor leading the weekend retreat started out the weekend by asking the group of 200 or so men “How many of you here would say that you had a healthy relationship with your father?” He asked us to raise our hand if we did… I first thought, “Well, out of 200 Christian men, certainly most of us would raise our hands…” I was shocked when just probably 10 of us raised their hands. I was overwhelmed with emotion immediately. Up until then, I had no idea just how rare the kind of relationship my Dad and I had. It was next to impossible for me to hold back the tears and focus on the remainder of the pastor’s message. But I did go out immediately after that message and call my Dad to tearfully thank him for being such a special Dad.
Here was a man who not only was succeeding in a very stressful business, gaining respect from his associates and customers, but also was still committed to spending valuable time with his son. And he wasn’t just a Father he was also my buddy. As time has gone on, and I’ve watched him battle a horrible disease with immense courage and determination, I’ve realized even more just how special a man he was. If there is anything positive that can be seen in watching a man fight with such a horrible disease for so many years, in my Dad’s case it was first seeing the level of strength and courage he had… anyone who was around him was amazed by his perseverance. And second, the witnessing of my Dad’s long battle gave me time… it gave all of us time to really express our love for him. For me, it was an opportunity to really connect with the deep love I had for my Pa… especially in this last year…
Previous to this last 12 months, I was barely able to make it up here from California a couple of times a year. And because it was usually for no more than a few days, I often felt like I had to almost force my love for him into that short period of time… often felt as though I was grappling with the right words and actions to show him my love. Perhaps it was because I still hadn’t fully connected with the level to which I loved him. But now, this past year, I have been driving up here every month (or month and a half) and one year ago, I spent about 6 straight weeks with him, and then another 5 recently leading up to his passing. During those weeks spent with him, I was here because he was doing so horribly… but it was a time I was really able to connect with that love… just by sitting there with him, and watching him, and really allowing my heart to settle into that deep level of awareness… almost like there’s this mountain of love there, that I know has always existed, and I found this crevice within that mountain that my heart just fit so perfectly in.
Knowing for quite some time that my Dad would someday be departing, I have prepared myself as best I could. But when you love a person as much as we all do, it is never a simple matter, and no matter how much you’ve worked out all the preparation and emotions of the imminent loss, it’s still so incredibly difficult. All we can do when we think of how much we’ll miss him, how much we wish we could talk with him, is to turn our focus on how he’s no longer suffering and that he has made his final departure –from the pain and agony of this broken world, onto the most beautiful realm we could ever imagine. This word departure is a term that I recently found some wonderful descriptions of, taken from W.E. Vine. Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words …I’ve changed the order in which they appear in the book …but I believe you’ll find a connection with when thinking of my Father’s life…
The first is one that says “To depart is the picture of the unyoking of an animal from the burden of the cart, plough, or millstone which it had been pulling to grind the grain. The Apostle Paul was to be released from the yoke and burden of labor and toil in this life. He was being released and set free to depart for the pastures and still waters and rest of heaven and eternity.” The next description of departure reads, “To depart is the picture of “breaking up an encampment”. The Apostle Paul had been camping in this world. If any man has ever known what it is like to be unsettled and moving about from place to place, it was Paul. And unfortunately it was often not by choice. Many times the opposition to the gospel had been so violent, he had been forced to break camp and move on, sometimes fleeing for his life. But now, Paul was to break camp and depart for the last time, and what a departure it was to be. He would never again have to move. He was departing this world for his permanent residence: heaven itself.” Many of you here are aware of the circumstances that lead up to the my Dad’s death, how he was practically forced to move numerous times over the last 6 weeks of his life.
The last description of this word departure from Vine’s Dictionary states, “To depart is the picture of a ship hoisting the anchor and loosening the mooring ropes and departing one country for another country. Paul had been anchored and tied to this world, but the anchor and ropes of this world were now being loosed, and Paul was about to set sail for the greatest of all ports—heaven itself.” But I have another description of my own, very similar to the last one. It’s a very personal description of departure for me because it has to do with one of the fondest memories I have in my life growing up with Dad. In fact, it’s the last thing I said to him… at the time of his passing. Right before I told him this, we had all been gathered around my Dad’s bedside… Mom, Cathy, Sonny, Janice, myself… and Amy (the caregiver) and Barbara (Hospice social worker) were all there. That day we had all been spending as much precious time at his bedside that we could… Each of us telling him how much we love him. Often times breaking down in tears, and for some of us, that was all we could do… cry at his bedside. Those tears were powerful, and as Amy said to me, there is strength in shedding tears. For that showed him how much we loved him. After some time of being at his bedside, some of us went in the other room to gather our composure. My sister Janice stayed at Dad’s side, sharing her love for him and praying… Then Amy and Janice called us back in because they were seeing signs that he had declined even further. A while after we all came in, we were talking about different things, there was some reminiscing, and again each of us telling him how much we loved him. And then Amy looked at us and we could read on her face that the time was now very short for Dad. I first went right up to his ear and said “You know Dad, you can know a man who is the smartest man you ever met, and you can know a man who is the most gentle you ever met, and you can know a man who is the most patient you ever met, and you can know a man who is the bravest you ever met… But to have all those be just one man, and for that man to be your Dad, is just an incredible blessing… I love you Dad.”
Then my Mom lifted herself up out of her chair, getting as close to him as she possibly could, and told him “Jack, I’m here Sweetheart, Daddy, I love you so very much…” and she continued talking that way as she gently kissed him repeatedly. When she stopped and stepped back a little, I looked at Dad and he gasped for air once or twice… I leaned over him again and told him this one last description of departure… “You remember Dad when we used to drive out to the airport and go out to one of the planes we were planning to fly off in? We would go and untie the ropes from under the wings and then go over to the wheels and pull away the chalks that held the plane in place… then we would fly off to our destination. Well Dad, right now, Angels are untying those ropes from under your wings, and pulling away those chalks, and you’re flying away to a beautiful place.”
(Forgive me if this is very personal, or if most of it is just from my own experiences I had with my Dad, and my own feelings towards him, but it is my prayer that much of this is what you too have experienced being with my Father, and it will help you to accept this loss the way he would want us to)-
In the early years of my life, I was like most young kids… I took my Father (and Mother) for granted. I knew he loved me, but just never thought about it much. But he really looked after me, all of my family, and wanted the very best for me. Yet he never pushed me or forced me to do things… he patiently guided me.
As time went on, I began to realize how challenging it is to be a success in life, and began to get a glimpse of how grateful I should be for having a Father like him. But to be honest, I still had no real idea of just how special my Father was. Then, around 20 years ago, I was attending a Christian Men’s retreat and the focus of the retreat was on Father and son relationships. The pastor leading the weekend retreat started out the weekend by asking the group of 200 or so men “How many of you here would say that you had a healthy relationship with your father?” He asked us to raise our hand if we did… I first thought, “Well, out of 200 Christian men, certainly most of us would raise our hands…” I was shocked when just probably 10 of us raised their hands. I was overwhelmed with emotion immediately. Up until then, I had no idea just how rare the kind of relationship my Dad and I had. It was next to impossible for me to hold back the tears and focus on the remainder of the pastor’s message. But I did go out immediately after that message and call my Dad to tearfully thank him for being such a special Dad.
Here was a man who not only was succeeding in a very stressful business, gaining respect from his associates and customers, but also was still committed to spending valuable time with his son. And he wasn’t just a Father he was also my buddy. As time has gone on, and I’ve watched him battle a horrible disease with immense courage and determination, I’ve realized even more just how special a man he was. If there is anything positive that can be seen in watching a man fight with such a horrible disease for so many years, in my Dad’s case it was first seeing the level of strength and courage he had… anyone who was around him was amazed by his perseverance. And second, the witnessing of my Dad’s long battle gave me time… it gave all of us time to really express our love for him. For me, it was an opportunity to really connect with the deep love I had for my Pa… especially in this last year…
Previous to this last 12 months, I was barely able to make it up here from California a couple of times a year. And because it was usually for no more than a few days, I often felt like I had to almost force my love for him into that short period of time… often felt as though I was grappling with the right words and actions to show him my love. Perhaps it was because I still hadn’t fully connected with the level to which I loved him. But now, this past year, I have been driving up here every month (or month and a half) and one year ago, I spent about 6 straight weeks with him, and then another 5 recently leading up to his passing. During those weeks spent with him, I was here because he was doing so horribly… but it was a time I was really able to connect with that love… just by sitting there with him, and watching him, and really allowing my heart to settle into that deep level of awareness… almost like there’s this mountain of love there, that I know has always existed, and I found this crevice within that mountain that my heart just fit so perfectly in.
Knowing for quite some time that my Dad would someday be departing, I have prepared myself as best I could. But when you love a person as much as we all do, it is never a simple matter, and no matter how much you’ve worked out all the preparation and emotions of the imminent loss, it’s still so incredibly difficult. All we can do when we think of how much we’ll miss him, how much we wish we could talk with him, is to turn our focus on how he’s no longer suffering and that he has made his final departure –from the pain and agony of this broken world, onto the most beautiful realm we could ever imagine. This word departure is a term that I recently found some wonderful descriptions of, taken from W.E. Vine. Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words …I’ve changed the order in which they appear in the book …but I believe you’ll find a connection with when thinking of my Father’s life…
The first is one that says “To depart is the picture of the unyoking of an animal from the burden of the cart, plough, or millstone which it had been pulling to grind the grain. The Apostle Paul was to be released from the yoke and burden of labor and toil in this life. He was being released and set free to depart for the pastures and still waters and rest of heaven and eternity.” The next description of departure reads, “To depart is the picture of “breaking up an encampment”. The Apostle Paul had been camping in this world. If any man has ever known what it is like to be unsettled and moving about from place to place, it was Paul. And unfortunately it was often not by choice. Many times the opposition to the gospel had been so violent, he had been forced to break camp and move on, sometimes fleeing for his life. But now, Paul was to break camp and depart for the last time, and what a departure it was to be. He would never again have to move. He was departing this world for his permanent residence: heaven itself.” Many of you here are aware of the circumstances that lead up to the my Dad’s death, how he was practically forced to move numerous times over the last 6 weeks of his life.
The last description of this word departure from Vine’s Dictionary states, “To depart is the picture of a ship hoisting the anchor and loosening the mooring ropes and departing one country for another country. Paul had been anchored and tied to this world, but the anchor and ropes of this world were now being loosed, and Paul was about to set sail for the greatest of all ports—heaven itself.” But I have another description of my own, very similar to the last one. It’s a very personal description of departure for me because it has to do with one of the fondest memories I have in my life growing up with Dad. In fact, it’s the last thing I said to him… at the time of his passing. Right before I told him this, we had all been gathered around my Dad’s bedside… Mom, Cathy, Sonny, Janice, myself… and Amy (the caregiver) and Barbara (Hospice social worker) were all there. That day we had all been spending as much precious time at his bedside that we could… Each of us telling him how much we love him. Often times breaking down in tears, and for some of us, that was all we could do… cry at his bedside. Those tears were powerful, and as Amy said to me, there is strength in shedding tears. For that showed him how much we loved him. After some time of being at his bedside, some of us went in the other room to gather our composure. My sister Janice stayed at Dad’s side, sharing her love for him and praying… Then Amy and Janice called us back in because they were seeing signs that he had declined even further. A while after we all came in, we were talking about different things, there was some reminiscing, and again each of us telling him how much we loved him. And then Amy looked at us and we could read on her face that the time was now very short for Dad. I first went right up to his ear and said “You know Dad, you can know a man who is the smartest man you ever met, and you can know a man who is the most gentle you ever met, and you can know a man who is the most patient you ever met, and you can know a man who is the bravest you ever met… But to have all those be just one man, and for that man to be your Dad, is just an incredible blessing… I love you Dad.”
Then my Mom lifted herself up out of her chair, getting as close to him as she possibly could, and told him “Jack, I’m here Sweetheart, Daddy, I love you so very much…” and she continued talking that way as she gently kissed him repeatedly. When she stopped and stepped back a little, I looked at Dad and he gasped for air once or twice… I leaned over him again and told him this one last description of departure… “You remember Dad when we used to drive out to the airport and go out to one of the planes we were planning to fly off in? We would go and untie the ropes from under the wings and then go over to the wheels and pull away the chalks that held the plane in place… then we would fly off to our destination. Well Dad, right now, Angels are untying those ropes from under your wings, and pulling away those chalks, and you’re flying away to a beautiful place.”
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