Greetings:
Thank you all for coming to Dad’s Party today. Too bad he
couldn’t be here in person, but I’m sure he’s here in spirit.
Dad was a wonderful man, an excellent teacher, father,
friend, and associate. Here are some things I learned from Dad over the years.
One: Be patient: Dad was one of the most patient men in the
world. I don’t know how many times I lost my expensive dental retainer. But he
always made sure I got another one.
Two: Live: He would ask his hunting buddies, “How many
hunting seasons do you have left?” He wanted to live life to its fullest,
taking in as many adventures as possible.
Three: Keep a level head: Dad was always one to think things
through, think before he acted. One time he and one of his buddies got lost
while hunting. His friend said, “Let’s run to the top of that hill and shine
our lights as far as we can!” Dad said, “Well, we could do that, but our
flashlights won’t shine that far, and besides, the top of the hill is covered
with trees. Let’s just follow the creek down and I’m sure it’s a tributary to
the larger creek by the campsite.”
Four: Be a light in the darkness. Dad loved his lanterns.
This is a continuation of keeping a level head, and a metaphor for his life.
When he and his buddy were trying to make it out, Dad spied a light through the
trees. One of the guys at his camp had noticed it was getting late, and didn’t
know what to do, so he put a lantern on top of his camper. Dad saw it and made
his way back to camp. From then on, he loved lanterns. But that is how he lived
his life. He was a light in the darkness, shining brightly. One of his friends
commented, “I will never forget the genuine kindness that your Dad embodied. He
was quiet and unassuming in his natural ability to extend himself to others.”
Five: Don’t be a wuss. Dad was macho, in his own way. You
hardly heard him complain. Even towards the end, getting his lungs drained,
sometimes the nurses numbed the wrong areas before they shoved a needle in his
back. He didn’t say word one. When the nurses asked how he was doing, he would
always say he was fine, even if he wasn’t. He named Erik and I the names he did
partially because you couldn’t put a “Y” on the end. “Eriky” just doesn’t flow.
A Y at the end of a male name was wussy.
Six: You can put a box around almost anything. In church,
Dad didn’t pay attention to the sermons. He would bring graph paper and design
boxes. He would stand when you were supposed to, sit, greet, be kind. But he
wasn’t into it. I think that’s how he lived his life. He would categorize
everything and find a box to put it in. He would build boxes for anything and
everything, including lanterns.
Seven: Stay Organized. Like I said, Dad had a box for
everything. It was all neatly labeled. When we would go camping, he made sure
the campsite was as organized as possible. All food had a box or cooler. All
equipment had a box or bag. A place for everything, and everything in its
place. Of course, that also means that in the attic above the garage, there are
file boxes of finance records going back to 1975. That’ll be fun to sort!
Eight: Community and Friends are important. Dad loved get-togethers
and deck parties. It was important to him to keep friends and family close. He
even looked at my friends as a second father, and treated them as such.
Nine: Practice. Dad practiced what he thought was important.
He hired shooting coaches to get better at skeet. He practiced his speeches for
his insurance sales. He wanted to make sure he was practiced and polished and
performed at his best.
Ten: Do. Dad was a man of action. But that action took many
forms. Planning first, of course, and then execute. He would also do for
others, even at great cost to himself. My wife first met Dad when he offered to
help her move. He’d never met her before – but he showed up, with a trailer,
just because I asked if he had time to help move some furniture. He was just
that kind of guy.
So, if you are ever going through life, and find yourself in
a rough or unpredictable situation, you can always ask yourself, “What would David Hanson do? How can
I be a light in the darkness?” Ask yourself, “How many seasons do I have left?”
And don’t be a wuss.
Thank you.
