Three Men and a Little Old Lady - Part Two

If we weren't spending significant holidays at Buffalo Bob's house, we were at the Big Guy's house in San Pedro.

For about a decade, my dad and I did everything with the Big Guy's family.

Vacations in Hawaii. Whitewater rafting the American River. Every Super Bowl between 15 and 27. Every New Year's Eve.

We did everything with them.

And then we didn't.

I turned 19 and it just wasn't cool to hang out with your dad like this.

But I love the Big Guy. He still looks the same even though I hadn't seen him since he came to my wedding 7 years ago. For somebody with the nickname, Big Guy, he's really not that big. But his personality is larger than life.

He kind of looks like Bluto from the old Fleischer Popeye cartoons.

I was hoping that he would speak today. Number 2 and I had both asked him to but he didn't think that he could do it.

Keester finally was through with his tribute and my heart soared because the Big Guy was heading up to the podium.

"Dammit Keester! You took all of my time with your freakin' speech!"

I was crying now but it was because the Big Guy did what he always did. He made me laugh.

He told some great stories and he was able to get the guys that new my dad to laugh one more time at them.

There is something very special about being able to laugh at a funeral. I think for me it means that the death you are mourning, while certainly a loss, isn't a tragedy.

My dad wasn't murdered. He didn't die in a war. He wasn't in a plane that flew into a building.

His time just ran out.

And I'm so happy that the Big Guy could share things about his life that we all could laugh about.

VW