a eulogy

Thank you for coming.

My father grew up in Chicago.

He loved the Police. He worked for them in one way or another for most of his life.

His first child was born on June 26th, 1981. The second on July 27th, 1984.

My father was very proud that he had raised two kids.

Like most of us, he had his own way he liked to do things.

In his own way, he taught me that people are not what they seem. In his own way, he taught me that we all hide something beautiful inside, afraid others will not like what they see, afraid of prejudice, resentment or some form of social ostrization. In his own way he taught me how weak we can be and how resilent we are in the face of undendurable emotional torment.

He had his opinions, as we all do. He had his moments of weakness, as we all do. And he had his own, private failures, as we all most certainly do.

Sometimes we are, who we are, despite even the best of circumstances, despite the tremendous spirit and incredible heart of those around us, and we cannot change, no matter how we see it affecting others.

And so, in his own way, my Father taught me to be a better person, made me 'want' to be a better person.

Some people are born lucky. I had to grow into my own luck, and my Father helped me do this, in his own way.

(If i ever had any positive interactions with my father before I was five I don't really remember them. Maybe because I was a sensitive child and my father really only had one way of dealing with anything, his own, obtuse and confused way. He always let his own personal demons get in the way of everything. And so I had to learn to grow up on my own, but only after I learned that living in such a way was toxic to those around me.)

(His emotional manipulation was on par with the best terrorist interrogators. none better. Nothing was too low for him. no lie he would not say or even eventually believe, so long as he got the reaction he wanted.)

(he was a great towering beast of a bastard to everyone, especially his kids. And if you never saw it, it was only because you weren't a tool to him. Your opinion of him mattered. He valued your positive perception of him more than he loved his kids or his wives. He was jekell and hyde. you didn't have to live with him. we did. I had one or two good years with my father as a child, then about thirty years trying to understand why he was they way he was and trying to change him. Then I spent ten years avoiding him altogether because I just didnt have the strength in me any more and din't want to invite that kind of thing into my life anymore. which was a healthy choce, and I wish I couldve had the courage to do it sooner.)

(he didnt like anything or anyone that was different from him. didn't want to understand it either. He was content thinking he had it all figured out and anything that made him question anything about himself or his veiws was seen as beneathe him, subject to contempt and maybe a swift emotional dismissal. at a funeral it's customary to say how kind, strong, protective Daddy was. Say that's the custom.)