Eulogy for Dad (from funeral) - Louis Wheeler (1943-2007)

Here is the eulogy that I (Tammy)wrote and delivered at dad's funeral that was held on Friday, December 28, 2007, in Albany, Oregon. This poem is to tell my dad's life story. Please excuse errors (rhyming pattern ;)

My Dad by Tammy Johnston

On a cold winter morning, February 12, 1943,
my daddy came into the world for all eyes to see.
His father Lewis and mother Mayme, were so full of joy;
They gave life to a beautiful, Wheeler baby boy.
He was named after his father Lewis, just spelt differently,
his middle name was James, just like his mother wanted it to be.

Born in Duluth, a cold, northern Minnesota town,
the family was on the move, as they wanted to settle down.
Down and over to Longville, father Lewis took the family,
in search of a good life, they began their journey.
A quaint little farmhouse, with a lawn that was mown,
the Wheeler family was happy, just watching the sun go down.

Life back then was simple, yet sometimes filled with pain,
the family survived off the land, with very little to gain.
Growing food and milking cows, was something that they did,
that is the kind of work my dad had to do, even as a kid.
They attended a Lutheran Church, as passed down the family chain,
every Sunday dad was there, though he could not quite ascertain.

As a child he attended school in Longville,
a very long journey, which was difficult during the chill.
Sisters Esther and Alice, walked with him along the way,
they did back then, just as they wish they could today.
When he was not in school, he hoped to get a thrill,
shooting guns with his daddy, going in for the wild game kill.

As he grew up he realized what he wanted to do,
he was ready to leave Longville and to just, break through.
Dad graduated from Agriculture school in 1961,
and he knew right then, that he was ready to have some fun.
Motorcycles, hunting, maybe a brew or two,
listening to music, and playing his guitar too.

Daughter Dawn was born, in 1964,
beautiful straight hair and colics, just like her daddy, before.
In ‘68 son John earned, his right to life,
This made the love in dad’s heart, feel very rife.
Dad loved Dawn and John, watching them play on the floor,
He gave life to them, and soon, two more.

Though his first marriage did not last,
dad lifted his chin high, and began to move forward from the past.
In ‘75 and ‘76 Michelle and I came quite fast,
but the joy of giving life is just so hard to surpass.

I came into the world, earlier than planned to be,
My chest was caved in, which was hard for dad to see.
Dad always said “your thigh was the size of my thumb,”
fortunately my genes made me tough, and I never did succumb.
Dad was there for me as a baby,
even if he was always on the road, to support the family.

He loved waterskiing, on a beautiful Minnesota lake,
teaching his children, how to ride the great wake.
Tying my skiis together, so I did not fall,
never giving up on me, allowing me to stand tall.
After a day out in the sun, his body would ache,
ready to sit down, and enjoy a beer and a nice steak.

Imagine all the things, that dad used to do,
racing canoes, fly fishing, and bow hunting, too.
Teaching his children and family, about his love of the outdoors,
this was something that dad did, it just came from his core.
He was the strongest and smartest man, that I ever knew,
he could take down Hulk Hogan, and even Bill Gates too!

He worked in a machine shop, and drove semi truck,
dad always provided for his family, he knew the value of the buck.
It was hard for dad to be away, from and all things that he loved,
but little did he know, how much he was beloved.
Dreaming of hunting pheasants, grouse, or the occasional duck,
his prize catch would be his big 215LB buck.

Retired after driving 3,000,000 miles, a warrior of the road,
Connie and dad were ready to start anew, to build a new abode.
In 2005 they decided, to move far out west,
they packed up their things, and setout for their quest.
Albany, Oregon, quickly became their new home,
while their new Lutheran Church, soon became a sacred dome.

Dad loved to take pictures, of the mountain tops,
the Three Sisters in Oregon, was his favorite photo spot.
Riding his four wheeler up, and down the logging trails,
even when he got stuck in the snow, dad always prevailed.
Hunting wild game was his true love, even on a private lot,
loading all his own ammunition, was something he did a lot.

Little did he know, what was brewing within his cells,
something that in his later life, would make him quite unwell.
It came so soon, and I knew it would leave very quick,
I felt like I had no time, and began to feel very sick.
The notice went out to family and friends, that dad was not doing well,
I quickly called my husband, my mom, and my sister Michelle.

I saw my dad in November, the first time in nine years,
his right arm did not work well, which soon set in CJD fears.
With Connie right by his side, he began to have many tests,
I knew all along it was CJD, yet we could not stop to rest.
Without us even knowing, the symptoms began to appear,
instability in his legs, a ringing bell in his ear.

The horrible disease that took you dad, is called CJD,
it took you, your father, and may someday, take me.
You, my daddy, gave me life and enabled me to breathe,
you were my everything, and I am so sad that you had to leave.
But when a wind gust swooshes over the mountain top, and exists through a tree,
I know that is you breathing daddy, breathing just for me.