A Winter Solstice... Eulogy for Dad

Today is December 21st. It is the Winter Solstice. Now, many of you may or may not know what that means in fact, however, I do… and I owe that to my Father. The Winter Solstice, marks the official start to Winter. I know this because my father was a weather aficionado. The Solstice became one of my favorite times of the year many years ago. I used to, (and still do), fashion my annual Christmas shows around its beginning. The Solstice is known as the shortest and darkest day of the year. It is the shortest day of our year because we receive the least amount of sunlight. And to some large degree I guess I can conclude that today could also be seen as one of the darkest days for my family, but in experiencing so much pain & loss I do love that it is one of the shortest. The Pagan people would worship this day however, as a way to mark the beginning of the light increasing back in our lives. Much is why we attribute the Christ Child’s birth so close to the Solstice. The light of God coming back to us after such long, dark days. And that ultimately is how I prefer to look at today’s forecast.” I am certain Today’s balmy weather was ordered specifically from Heaven’s newest Meteorologist! Roger Grinnell came into this world on September 14th and left this world on December 14th. That is fitting and ORDERED. Our father was an ordered man. A Master Chief… order and controlled chaos were his specialties and he let all know that. He was a master at anything he undertook and a leader. That truly describes him. Heck everything was always “underway”. My father rose each morning at 0:500 and coffee was ready to go. (Automatic timers became his best friend thru the years). He was a man who had a daily plan, operation, mission or patrol. He was a true leader in every regard. And life was his mission. Dad was an adventurist. He loved sailing, camping, sports, traveling and most importantly his country. We weren’t kids who went to Disney World for vacations; we traveled in a Volkswagen Bus from Civil War battle site to battle site in search of America. We learned much on those road trips thru America. Mostly, ingested while listening to the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkle, Karen Carpenter, Janis Joplin, and array of Folk singers. Packing 3 girls into a modified Volkswagen Bus never stopped us from being Girls but boy we certainly learned quick how to also be Boys. My father never once let us think there was something we could not achieve because of gender. Being the last of 4 boys he himself knew very much how to live as one; despite the fact that his own mother was the “original Martha Stewart”. He also knew how to cook, bake, sew and garden. A renaissance man to be sure. AS a child and still to this day his girls love sports and have always gravitated toward the Sports in addition to the Arts. Being a child of the 1960s I was raised when women were still women and men, men. Yet the world was changing. And my father was the perfect dichotomy of those two worlds every day. He fought the Middletown Little League in order to get me a spot playing 1st base when Girls didn’t, having agreed that I would wear a “cup”, simultaneously picking me up 3x a week from Ballet. It goes for us all, quietly and patiently fighting for some injustice he felt we should conquer. And yet at the same time, he wanted perfect ladies, often blaming: “us women” for our own demise in this world when we stopped being so reliant on men. Every day I felt torn between being Gloria Steinhem, and Mary Bailey. Our father had a unique and comical way of looking at life. He was not a man who pretended to be something he was not, even if at times you prayed he might be. Haha. He spoke his mind, said his peace, or quietly walked away. He wouldn’t lie to you, sadly at times, and never tried to sugar coat something of great importance. He did protect… and even as recently as last week as I desperately searched for my ice scraper he told me he removed my ice scraper from my car because he thought it would cut me, (having had a chip in it). He was a very private man all the same. He could keep much inside, and I often vacillate as to how wonderful or detrimental that can be as I find myself doing the very same things each and every day. But as private as he could be he managed to get even the most inappropriate life moments on camera. The camera was a life tool to my father. He was never seen without one or 4 at times. Stills, Blacks and whites, color, Video… candids, groups, planned and sometimes (although rarely) unplanned. He felt the need to capture every single moment passing him by in this life. Which is why he admired the News. My father and Wolf Blitzer would have been Besties had they known one another. My father’s obsession with News, Politics, Deals, Arrangements, or even a Soap Opera was nearly the strongest sense of his daily living. Matched none other than to his Grandchildren. This ultimately became his passion for living. Cameron Mia Cooper and Lorelei were his greatest loves and muses. The camera suddenly had a new lens and all it did was magnify and capture their bigger than life personalities. He was by far the best and the most devoted grandfather the world has seen, and made their lives, his life each and every day. I painfully relieved some of my childhood thru them. Watching them eat Cream Cheese and Olive & Egg Salad sandwiches, (known as Loaves in the Protestant/Yankee tradition), Taking endless rides around the Ocean Drive to see his Beloved Castle Hill and more importantly making them his “daily news” instead of CNN. I was also envious that they didn’t have to take countless Driving instructions with him, Fail tests, or come home and say they simply could not do whatever. My father was a man who struck a hard bargain. He knew much and expected more. His Grandchildren learned to fish, but not from Ledge Road. They learned to sail but didn’t get tossed into the Channel needing to be rescued and they didn’t go out on boats in 16-foot seas… but I wouldn’t have traded it for one minute. Because What I learned from those moments (as we all did, was to survive. Smile… and as the Coast Guard says… Semper Paratus… Always Ready. Which he always was… each and everyday of his life. The Godwinks I received this week were many. I am a woman of religious conviction. I am not sad that our father is with THE father. I am sad, as I will miss him everyday. As I know we all are. Especially Cam, Mia Coop and Lorelei, (who professes daily she is not Mimi’s girl.... but Reese’s.) Our Lorelei reminds me so much of ZuZu in It’s a Wonderful Life. This week my life has been a page out of that epic film in many ways. I have felt like George so many times, having experienced so much tragedy and losses, but also so many riveting moments for people coming thru. Christmas quite frankly sucks as a time to lose someone you adore so much. It marks a time that is never lost to you but forever remembered as special… holy and full of life. At this time I will choose to now see my dad as George Bailey. The richest man in town. And after standing for 3 hours in your Wake line…. I now know that No man is a failure who has friends. Crazy Mello- May you rest happily in the softest recliner, tasting the strongest coffee, savoring the best Corned Beef hash & eggs, sipping it down with the biggest glass of water you ever have seen while tender Steak and Lobster melts in your mouth; and wash it all down with the best tasting beer! All of our love and peace to you Dad. You were the BEST!!!! One year ago.. December 2013