A Eulogy For My Father

From the bottom of my heart thank you all so much for coming today to celebrate the life of an amazing person, my father, Jeffrey Thomas Frank

If you do know my Dad then you know that even though he may not be able to speak to us all he is definitely here so at this time I would like to ask everyone to stand look right over my shoulder where I know he is standing and give Jeff a round of applause.

My father loved a good story and growing up, we spent a lot of time together and we watched a lot of television together. My parents worked all the time and if my dad got a day off he wanted to relax and watch TV.

As a matter of fact it was during these years that my father invented the very first remote control. Which was me sitting in a chair next to the TV and changing the channel at his command during the commercial breaks.

If I complained he said, “No one under four feet gets a vote.” Or “You’re a cute kid but who likes goats? Change the channel.” That last one by the way, I remember when I finally realized that a baby goat is called a kid after being called a goat for several years and not knowing why I came rushing home from school because I had finally figured out what he was talking about and he laughed at me for the rest of the day that it had taken me so long to understand.

But it was during those times together as I switched back and forth from Star Trek to Mary Tyler Moore to a war movie to a western to Kung Foo and back again where we had our first real in depth conversations about anything and everything as only Jeff liked to do.

He would tell me about life in ancient Greece, Egypt, China, and Rome. He could recall statistics and dates of any battle in any war since the beginning of man. He often spoke on the character of great men like his heroes Marcus Auerilious, Alexander the Great, John Wayne, Mark Twain and of course Mr. Spock to name just a few. My father could talk about astronomy, agronomy, biology, history, geography, literature, religion and music. A renaissance man he knew a lot about a lot of things. These are the traits that made him a great bartender; a great teacher and a great entertainer; he could talk to anyone that walked through the door about anything.

Once when I asked him if I could go to CCD with the other kids, He handed me a book called Siddartha by Herman Hesse. Told me I had 2 weeks to read it and then we would discuss it and this would be the start of my religious  education. Having been in catholic school his entire life including college, he disagreed with the dogma and wanted me to learn a different way. I was nine years old.

“Dad, I don’t get this book.”

The book was originally written in German and translated in the 1960’s to tell the story of the man who would be Buddha. It was a little over my pay grade to say the least. We eventually had the conversation about the book but I think I was 35 when I finally "got it". Which was probably the same age he was when he gave it to me to begin with.

My father was also a big catchphrase guy. I think it started with his admiration of Walter Cronkite’s “And that’s the way it is…” For a while he would sign at the bottom of every email “Courage is being scared and saddling up anyway” The immortal words of one of his heroes John Wayne of course.

I would reply, “Ok, I was just seeing if you wanted to come over for lunch on Tuesday but I’ll try to be brave till then.”

Then he found two phrases that he really fell in love with, Yut-tah-hey and Via Con Dios. Yut-tah-hey is a Navajo saying for what I believe translates to “Walk in Beauty.” And Via Con Dios means go with god. So every time you would meet Jeff he would greet you with walk in beauty and leave you going with God. As beautiful a sentiment as these are I must admit that unfortunately upon hearing Yut-tah-hey it would induce immediate and severe eye rolling into the back of my head but recently I have been miraculously cured of this and thank god for you tube, I can listen to him say it anytime I want to.

My father has always been a person you could go to for help. Not just our family but literally he would help anyone who needed helping. He was a friend in deed to many in need. He even wanted to save the world.

The content of one’s character meant a lot to him. He taught me to always do the right thing, even when it’s not the easy thing to do and especially when no one is looking.

This week I drove around making arrangements and I had this nagging feeling of unease. I finally realized that this is what it must feel like to not have a dad in the physical world. My family is lucky, I am lucky that we have each other and that we got to be around the sad Irish poet that was my father Jeff for as long as we did. Bum ticker and all.

The parent child relationship is multi-faceted and has many layers. We were not without our differences and when you love someone so much sometimes it’s hard to see things as they really are without your own emotions from past hurts coming into play. Ultimately everything that happens and everyone that is in your life is there because you need them to be. My father has been one of my greatest teachers and as he told me many times, I had been his.

Growing up I really wanted my Dad to be regular.

“Just be more normal”, I would say.

“What is normal”, he would ask?

“Don’t say weird things to my friends.”

“OK, like what?”

 “I don't know. Just don’t talk about Alien life on other planets and things like that.”

 “How is that weird? Statistically its more probable than not”

 “I know it isn’t weird to you but some people think its weird and I would rather you just didn’t bring it up.”

 “OK, that’s silly but fine.”

 So my friends come over and everyone loves my Dad, he is an engaging and friendly guy, the kids dig him, as he would say.

Within 30 seconds He says, “You guys want to hear a story?”

I feel my teeth start to crack.

“Yeah Jeff tell us a story!”

 “Well I was in the park today and there was a man with a boa constrictor there.” (Uhm, ok…that is WEIRD!!)

“So I’m watching him as he put the snake down in the grass, it picked its head up, looked over at me and immediately started slithering towards me. I looked at the snake, sent it healing love and intention and it stopped turned and slithered back to its owner. He knew I wasn’t someone to mess with.”

 “Wow Jeff that is so interesting!”

As steam is coming out of my ears.

Later on I said, “Dad that is what I am talking about. That was weird.”

 “What was?”

“ The snake story!”

 “How was that weird?”

Heavy sigh, never mind.

What I learned with age comes wisdom and that regular is actually not for me. Be different, think your own thoughts and dream your own dreams. Everyone is a little weird; Jeff just didn’t pretend he wasn’t.

He died a happy man, having watched Daphne and I grow up and marry guys who as he said at my wedding and again at Daphne’s “Thank God you went for nice.” We happen to think they are pretty cute too.

Having grandchildren was what he treasured most in life. They brought him more joy than anything else in this world and he was so proud of his “Indigo” grandchildren.

He loved his brothers and sisters and my cousins Casey, Brendan, Mallory, Mia, Brittany, and of course Brady and Travis who I am sure were there to greet Jeff.

He loved and was loved in return not just by our family but as you can see here today his many friends and his extended family through his life work at The Nature Lyceum. He had found his tribe and with all of you and a lot of hard work he made his dreams come true.

I was watching one of my Dad’s You Tube videos this week and in it he said:

“How do we start to make a difference? We start by becoming aware.” That is literally all it takes.

So Dad, I promise to follow not just your words but by your example of living in openhearted awareness.

 I thank you Dad and will continue to thank you everyday for the empowerment you have given all of us who knew you and all you continue to do to help us and guide us from the other side.

Thank you, Via Con Dios.