Raymond J Burke

What is a lifetime? Dad’s was over 90 years; 33,031 days, 792,744 hours, 47,564,640 minutes, and 2,853,878,400 seconds. That puts some perspective to simple phrases such as “See you in a minute”, “Just a second”, or “This day is dragging”. No longer shall I take these simple thoughts or expressions for granted.
   Dad passed away on May 28, 20 23 at 1:20 in the morning to the sounds of murmuring fountains, gentle rain, and soft soothing music playing in the background. In his right hand he was holding mine; in his left he was holding a picture of my Mom. Soulmates. On the credenza the last light of the candles that we had brought for him had just begun to fade – peaceful. When the sun rose that morning, there was the last subtle trace of a rainbow…Dad’s way of telling me good-bye one last time. When we got home later that morning a lone butterfly flew around our lanai and then flitted over to their house. I am sure that was Dad letting me know that he was going to continue to watch over me for eternity.
   You would think that sitting and praying for hours with a loved one in their final days would be peaceful. Far from it. The time is exhausting. Praying for their final breaths so that their pain and suffering will finally end, and the horror that you now feel as a child as you hope for those last breaths, thus beginning your feelings of guilt, emptiness, and sorrow. As their pain fades yours is now just beginning to grow, along with the loneliness and fear.
My Dad was more than a Dad or a Father. He was my best friend. We talked to each other about everything, and we had for years. Whether it be decisions big or small, Dad and I sought out the opinion of the other. Neither one of us made an important decision without the counsel of the other. Right up to the end, as we discussed the inevitable, there we were; Dad and I discussing everything that we felt, or needed to be done. He was an amazing man. He was a leader, my teacher and my mentor.
He might not say it to your face, but if you were one of the ones whom he loved, you just knew it by his actions. And you were in a very prestigious group as he did not let many into his inner circle. He was the one you went to when you really messed up. Like the day I wrecked my Brother’s car. I was 16 and was hurt pretty badly and when Dad came to the hospital I started to cry and apologize and he simply stopped me and said; “Now is not the time for that. We will have plenty of time for me to be angry with you later.”. You know what? He never was. That was my Dad.
My Sunday night chore was to shine Dad’s shoes for the upcoming work week. I’m sure that I hated it at the time but now it is a fond memory. I remember going into their master closet and putting my feet into the first pair of his shoes of the night and awkwardly clumping and stumbling my way to the kitchen pretending that I was Dad. I certainly never was able to fill those shoes as a small boy, and I have never felt that I have done so in my life’s journey as a grown man.
Countless memories of all of the things that you taught me over the years, and all of the great times that we got to spend together. Thanks for everything that you did for me throughout my life. I will not forget them, nor the lessons that I have learned from them.
Never has a Son loved his Dad more than I love you Pop. I sure am going to miss you and our talks each and every day. I love you very much. I have always been proud to have been your Son, and I hope that you are proud of me as well.
   
Love, Your son,