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A Tribute to My Dad

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Contributed by: Stephanie Johnson on 9/21/2007

Five days after my wedding on 7/7/07, I received a call from my sister in Maryland that my father, Bob Merchant, only had 1-2 weeks to live, possibly 1-2 months. He had been diagnosed with recurrent melanoma approximately 2 weeks before, and we were hopeful that it was treatable with chemotherapy or radiation. Unfortunately, when additional tests came back, the doctors discovered that the cancer had spread to his brain, organs, and bones, and was not treatable.

My Dad took the news well, realizing that "everyone's time must come." Still, the rest of us were devastated. My kids had just arrived in Colorado for my wedding and weren't scheduled to return to their father's until the 25th, but when they heard the news, they wanted to cut their vacation short and go with me. We rented a car (airfare was too expensive for all of us on such short notice) and headed east 1700 miles to spend time with Dad before he passed away.

Even though we were on a "sad mission," the kids and I had a great time in the car. I'll never forget the detour to Oklahoma (if you've read my other stories, you know I'm "directionally challenged"); the beautiful windmills, frog invasion, and flooded streets in Kansas (at least, I THINK it was Kansas!); the miles and miles of road construction in every state; and the "gobble, gobble, gobble" jokes with my kids. There's nothing like a captive audience for 3 days straight to strengthen bonds with your family.

Over 3 weeks later, when my husband and I arrived back to the Springs, the stress of the last month hit me and I sobbed myself to sleep that first night as Greg comforted me. Several days later, Dad's death still heavy on my heart, I penned the following email to my friends and family as a tribute to my Dad, and as a way to heal.

I hope that this email conveys how we all saw Dad as "Our Hero."

Hi Gang,

Greg and I got home late Sunday night and I just wanted to let you all know a few things about my Dad's funeral and such. We still haven't gotten back into the swing of things and have been busy since returning, so hopefully things will calm down after this week. I hope I get all the details correct, so please bear with me if they're not. I apologize in advance for its length--the "writer" in me got carried away.

The two viewings on Tuesday, July 31st, went well--lots of friends and family came to pay their respects. Greg and Matthew flew in the night before, so it was very comforting to have my husband and all my kids with me. Everyone was impressed with how much the kids have grown. It was also good to see some of my old classmates--thanks SO MUCH for coming!!! It really meant a lot to me that you all were there.

My Dad looked so handsome in his suit and "Looney Tunes" tie--his "trademark." Mom always thought it was "rude" for Dad to wear such a cartoonish tie to weddings, funerals, his retirement dinner, and other fancy occasions, but when we pointed out that it was an extension of Dad's humor and character, she was glad that he had chosen it to be buried in. We tried to find one like it for Greg to wear to honor Dad, but didn't have any luck in that short time span.

The service at the later viewing was given by Pastor Fetty, the former pastor from the Nanjemoy Baptist Church across the street from my parents' and sister's houses. He shared the "ABC" gospel ("Admit, Believe, Confess"), planting many seeds. I pray that I'll be able to have praise reports for those who accepted Christ after hearing him. Pastor Fetty traveled from Lynchburg, VA (4 hours away) to be with us, and we really appreciated him being there, but I think the visitor who I was most surprised to see was Mr. Boone, the janitor from our elementary school, James Ryder Randall. He saw Dad's obituary in The Washington Post, recognized his name immediately, and came to pay his respects. The man has not aged in the last 35 years!

In the last few days before Dad's death, all of us had gone through boxes and boxes of pictures to find ones that would capture who Dad was: husband, father, son, grandfather, brother, friend, carpenter, farmer, hunter, fisher, golfer...as Dad used to say, "Jack of all trades, master of none." I would argue with that based on his many creations and achievements through the years!

We filled 6 foam posterboards with pictures (we ran out of boards) and displayed them on various easels throughout the funeral home. There was a table set up with 3 large photo albums of Mom and Dad: their early years with their respective parents and siblings, their school years, how they met, their wedding, honeymoon and after, their first home, their 5 kids, family, school, vacations, Christmases and birthdays through the years, etc.

Also included was a scrapbook Nichole made of when Mom and Dad visited her in Paris, France when she was a nanny, and 2 albums of the construction of their 7,000 sq. ft. house in Nanjemoy, which for those who don't know, Dad built himself over 3 1/2 years with the help of his brother, Stanley (others helped too, but it was mostly Dad andStanley). It was his crowning achievement! There were other various framed pictures throughout the funeral home (including our favorite of Mom and Dad going to the Prom when Mom wore her "Cinderella dress"), and a DVD slideshow displaying many of the scanned pictures we collected. My nephew, Adam, did most of the work and did a great job, plus he added many sentimental songs to it. I guarantee anyone who watched it was wiping tears away when it was done! It truly captured Dad in all his glory.

The morning of the funeral (Aug. 1), the parking lot filled quickly. It was so heartwarming to see so many friends and relatives coming out to support the family and "see Dad off." Father Raymond Schmidt, one of the priests at St. John's Evangelist (Catholic) Church from when we lived in Clinton, led the funeral service. Because of their upbringing, Mom wanted her and Dad's Catholic faith to be represented, but also because of the kids' Protestant conversions, we requested Pastor Fetty in addition and Mom graciously agreed. It was a lovely service. A friend of the family sang "How Great Thou Art," "The Old Rugged Cross" and "Wind Beneath My Wings." Michelle read some scripture from Psalms.

David (my sister Nichole's husband) gave the eulogy and told stories of every individual child's favorite memories of Dad as we told to him. Mine was when Dad towed my U-haul trailer when I moved to Colorado Springs after discovering my old car would not make the trip--but he told me I had to wait until he got back from his fishing trip before we could leave! What a special time it was for us!

My brother-in-law, John Brown; my brothers, Mark and Craig; and my nephews, Brandon, Ryan and Adam (Craig's kids) were the pall bearers. The funeral procession was impressive. The hearse was driven by longtime friend of the family, Pat DeLane, and was followed by 3 black stretch limousines carrying the family members. The procession followed, all with high-beams and flashers on as we wound our way through the backroads of LaPlata and Waldorf. We had Charles County police escorting us until we reached Prince George's County, then their officers picked up and continued on to the cemetery (it's good to have connections: Pat DeLane's son-in-law is a CC police officer and Michelle's ex-husband, Mark Hudson, is a PGC officer). The cars/motorcycles blocked all the cross streets and cars were pulling over--it looked like a President had died!

This is hard to describe (and I hope this doesn't sound corny), but seeing the 3 cop cars leading us with their blue lights flashing, followed by 5 motorcycle officers and numerous other police cars, marked and unmarked, all with their red and blue lights flashing, the limos, and the endless stretch of cars, I was overcome with emotion at how "important" Dad appeared to the "outsider," because he sure was important to us--it only seemed fitting that the procession announced it to the rest of the world.

Resurrection Cemetery is one of the most beautiful cemeteries I have ever seen. I had never been there before, so it was like entering a magical forest. The trees surrounding the entrance and throughout the large property were tall and magnificent and cast their shadows across the well-manicured lawns. As we headed to Dad's final resting place, a peacock was off to our left, slowly walking toward the procession. Turns out the owners raise peacocks on the site.

After we got out of our cars and the guys got Dad's casket on the platform, Father Ray shared this story with us before beginning: "It is said that the peacock symbolizes eternal life. When I lived in Clinton, I used to jog through Resurrection Cemetery, and in my 6 years of doing so, I always wanted to see a peacock but was never that fortunate. How fitting that this morning, we were greeted by one walking towards Bob as we entered. I see it as a good sign." As if on cue, a peacock sounded in the distance. There was not a dry eye after that.

After Father Ray spoke the final words, the grandkids each laid an individual flower on Dad's casket. The florist didn't have purple carnations or roses, so I chose sunflowers for Matthew, Shaina and Christopher in memory of Mary Pryor, a friend and mentor from Women of Courage (a ministry for single moms) at Radiant Church who passed away from cancer some time ago. Her favorite flower was the sunflower because of how they keep their "faces" toward the sun as it moves throughout the day, much like Christians keep their eyes on The Son as we go through trials and tribulations, joy and blessings. As the kids laid their flowers down, Michelle sang Amazing Grace. Wow, what an amazing voice! I get goosebumps just thinking about it.

We had lunch at the Fraternal Order of Police in LaPlata after the funeral. There were tons of food, lots of friends, millions of tears, and oodles of hugs to go around. It was nice to reminisce about Dad and see everyone, even if it was under such somber circumstances. I got to see friends and relatives that I haven't seen in 10-15 years.

Mom did well, I thought, through everything. I'll never forget watching her as she laid her white lilies on Dad's casket--she looked so classy in her sun hat and glasses. Please continue to pray for her as she wades her way through the loss of her husband (October 6th would've been their 45th anniversary). I'll always remember her during Dad's last few days, she would lie in the bed next to him, stroke his face and arm, and whisper, "Don't leave me," and "I love you."

Poor Garrison, my sister Michelle's youngest son (4 years old), really took it hard. My heart was breaking as I watched him cry out for his Pop Pop at the cemetery. Even at the viewing, it looked as if he was trying to climb into the casket just so he could hug his Pop Pop one last time. He and brother Nathan left their favorite toy tractors with Dad, and there were handmade cards from the grandkids, a teddy bear, numerous pictures, etc. in there too. The day before he died, Craig had given Dad a bracelet he received as a birthday gift in honor of a dear friend who died a year ago in a motorcycle accident.

Much thanks goes out to the DeLanes for organizing lunch, allowing us the use of the FOP, and to the many church members and friends who supplied food and helped clean up afterwards.

Sunday night after Greg and I got home, I couldn't go to sleep after 2 straight days of driving and because I couldn't stop thinking about Dad: the doghouse he built for Zeus, my Siberian Husky; the miniature greenhouse he built for me to grow tomato plants in, which he transplanted into our backyard garden; the Rat Fink model that he painstakingly put together and painted, then hung on his little handmade acrylic shelf in the bar downstairs; the dozens of room remodels he did at the house in Clinton; the huge toybox bench he made for our toyroom (5 kids have a lot of toys!); the pride he took in building the house in Nanjemoy; the 1940 Chevy that never got restored; teaching us to fish and shoot rifles at Grandma and Grandpa's; crossbow lessons in the backyard; the playhouse he built with the green and white roof that we kids played in for hours on end; the time he took me to the AKC Dog Show at Rosecroft Raceway and bought me a Cocker Spaniel ceramic figurine; the time he bought me my "Hot Rod Rollerskate" airbrushed t-shirt in Myrtle Beach; teaching me how to check my oil and change a flat tire; the first time he held Matthew; watching him wrestle with Shaina and Christopher when they visited us in Colorado; watching him and Mom dance together; the time he let me move back home after becoming suddenly homeless (Matthew was 6 months old) and was told I "owed him a hug and a kiss" when I got home; the time he rescued me from the Portuguese Man-o-War in Myrtle Beach; when he had to tell me Corky, my Cocker Spaniel, died; when he said "I love you, Darlin'" in the U-Haul parking lot in Colorado Springs before he headed back to Maryland; how even in his last days when he couldn't speak or knew anyone's name, he could still respond to kisses....

Anyway, I wanted to take this time to thank all of you for your thoughts and prayers, phone calls, cards and emails. It has been so encouraging to hear from all of you and to know that you're thinking of me and my family and keeping us in your prayers. May God richly bless you all.

Much love,

Stephanie

I have often been driven to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go.--Abraham Lincoln

Okay, that was the email.

As I ponder what has happened over last 7 weeks, I realized that I had to let the past go. There were some things that happened between me and my parents when I was younger that were heartbreaking, but I know that it is more important to remember the good times. As I tell my husband, "In the Grand Scheme of Things, it really isn't that important," I had to repeat that phrase time and again so that I could practice what I preach.

I had shared my feelings of guilt with a dear friend of mine a few weeks ago about how I had not been able to "make amends" with Dad before he died, but she reassured me that in those last days, not only did Dad know I forgave him, but that he had also forgiven me even though words weren't exchanged. Knowing that has helped me in my grieving process and filled me with a peace that I never thought I would find.

I still can't believe he's gone.

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Showing 1-6 of 6 comments

Submitted By: Stephanie Johnson

posted on 1/30/2008 @ 11:57:46 PM

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Cheryl, I just finished 90 Minutes in Heaven today, and you're right, it was awesome! Thanks again for recommending it.

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Submitted By: Stephanie Johnson

posted on 10/12/2007 @ 11:23:46 AM

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Cheryl Brown, thanks for the book recommendation--I just bought a copy and hope to read it this weekend.

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Submitted By: Alice Gohlke

posted on 9/30/2007 @ 5:10:37 PM

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I'm very glad you took the time with your dad before his passing. I didn't and I'll always regret it... God Bless You!

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Submitted By: Shaina Merchant

posted on 9/29/2007 @ 8:53:51 AM

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I remember that email... I still have it. I remember all the emotions I was feeling through every second. I can relate with not being able to "make amends." Regardless... We love you PopPop.

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Submitted By: suzanne Gerczynski

posted on 9/29/2007 @ 6:54:42 AM

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Stephanie, you are a gifted writer...I could feel your emotions through your words. The road you took to get you to the happiness you have now....I know you would not change...

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Submitted By: Cheryl Brown

posted on 9/23/2007 @ 11:59:29 AM

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Stephanie, I lost my Mother on Christmas day last year and have since read the book "90 Minutes in Heaven". It is an awesome book that I suggest would help you with your loss.

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Showing 1-6 of 6 comments

CONTRIBUTOR INFO

Stephanie Johnson

Colorado Springs , CO

Stephanie Johnson has posted 90 stories and 141 comments since joining on 8/9/2007. Stephanie Johnson 's average story rating is 5.

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