'bye.for.now.

(the eulogy I delivered 12-21-2013)

I am thankful. It has been my joy and honor to help my dad write the last chapter of his life. After all - he helped wrote so many, many chapters in my story. I'm not going to lie - it was hard and sad and beautiful and heartbreaking. 

I am thankful. Out of all the possible people God could have chosen to be my dad, He chose Chuck Zimmerman. God chose him to be the daddy who taught me to ride a bike, loved to jump out and yell "boo!" when it was time for him to put me to bed, and watched The Wonderful World of Disney with me on Sunday evenings while we ate popcorn. 

I had a recurring dream as a child - that I was upstairs in bed and someone bad was there. In the dream, as in life, I knew if I could just get to my daddy I would be safe. 

When I was sad or upset, Dad always tried to get me to laugh. I remember getting mad and saying, "It's NOT funny!" but I could never resist, and laughter always won. 

Dad was there for me. Ballet recitals, piano recitals, school choir concerts. I remember a track meet at Houseman Field - I looked up and surprise! He was in the stands. He never missed a graduation - even though it meant traveling to Norway because I spent my senior year as an exchange student. High school, college, graduate school - he was there. Several years ago, he was at mile 10 when I ran the Riverbank Run. This summer, he used some of his precious remaining strength to come and hear me give the message at my church in Kalamazoo.

I treasure the lunches Dad and I had as adults - he was a sounding board and wise counselor. And and then there was the trip to Chicago when I had to get my passport for a business trip. Didn't matter that I had successfully driven to Chicago by myself on a number of occasions - he insisted that he would go with me. I drove - Dad rode shotgun and told me about his childhood. Those are the moments that some might say are co-incidence, but I would call God incidents. 

Dad walked me down the aisle when I married Bruce. I remember leaning over and whispering, I'd better stop crying or people will think I'm not happy. The tears were happy tears - thankful for Dad's strong arm linked with mine, thankful that he was "giving me away" - but I have to say Dad didn't really get rid of me!

Call it chip off the old block or kindred spirits, my dad was the person who knew and understood me like no one else. (He jokingly offered my husband a retention bonus for our 10th anniversary). The courage of convictions - humor - love of family - not to mention black olives and Brussels sprouts - live on in this female body. 

I will miss the sound of his voice leading grace, Bless the Lord... I won't pick up the phone to hear him announce - "This is your fah-ther..." His tenor won't provide the harmony in the parental birthday serenade. Bruce and I carry on the tradition - we tried to top it this year with an original composition, Happy Birthday" sung to the tune of Stars and Stripes Forever, with Bruce doing the piccolo part. 

My dad leaves big shoes to fill. You all can read the list of his accomplishments in the obituary. But his biggest accomplishment is us - our family. The love of his life, my mom. My always younger brother, Bill. His beloved grandchildren, Noah and Ethan. The in-laws, Debbie and Bruce - he loved them as his own. 

My dad didn't preach often with words. He preached with actions. The book of James, Ch 2 describes how Dad lived -
14 What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith, but does not have works? Can his faith save him?
15 If a brother or sister is without clothes and lacks daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, Go in peace, keep warm and eat well, but you don't give them what the body needs, what good is it?
17 In the same way, faith, if it doesn't have works, is dead by itself.
18 But someone will say, You have faith and I have works. Show me your faith without works, and I will show you faith from my works.

We didn't really talk about faith a lot. I saw it in his actions in the way he loved us and cared for people and served in so many organizations. But the first time I realized the incredible depth of his faith was at Christmas. With tears in his eyes and voice, he quoted this verse from O Little Town of Bethlehem- 

O Holy Child of Bethlehem

Descend to us we pray

Cast out our sin and enter in

Be born in us today. 

My dad carried a strong conviction of the sin we struggle with as human beings - and yet he held a deep gratitude for God's grace and forgiveness. He believed that Christ died for him - and that he would spend eternity in heaven because of it. I know that I will see him again in heaven - because I believe Christ died for me and has forgiven my sins. 

I doubt it's possible for me to leave bigger shoes than Dad's to fill - but I'm going to try. And I'll leave you with this question - what size shoes do you want to leave?