My dad died last November and I miss him tremendously. He was one of the greatest men I know and I’d like to share his eulogy with you so that you’ll get a sense of who he was and why I am who I am and some of the lessons I’ve learned that help bring me back to balance.

How do you say goodbye to a man who loved you before you were even born? To a man who dried your tears, taught you to drive, and taught you to be true to yourself? The only suitable tribute is to share the lessons I learned at his knee and to strive to live up to his expectations.

Before I share the lessons I learned from my dad, I’d like to set the stage by sharing a few facts. Leonard J. Collins was born to Thursa Aud Collins and Leonard Chester Collins on December 30, 1935. He came home to two older brothers who he adored. When my dad was three, his father died and his mother moved her family to Poplar Bluff, Missouri, where my dad would grow up without much money, but surrounded by the love of his extended family. I look back at the photos of my dad growing up and in most of them he’s surrounded by “the boys” as he and his cousins were known. When my dad told stories about growing up, he glossed over the fact that his family was dirt poor and instead focused on the lighter side of life like the neighborhood dog, the swimming hole, and running around with his cousins.

My father married my mom, Charlene Babcock, on February 20, 1965. I came along in 1966 and my brother in 1970. My dad worked for General Mills for 29 years before retiring in 1994. He kept in touch with the friends he made at General Mills up his very last day on earth. My parents moved to Mount Carroll a few years after my dad’s retirement where they become beloved members of the community and made friendships that have helped my mother weather the last two weeks.

Those are the simple and stark facts, but they don’t begin to tell you who my daddy was. My dad was a great and powerful man. He would disagree with that assessment as he saw himself as a simple, humble man who loved his family and did the best that he could. His greatness came from his modesty, from his willingness to help his fellow man, from his love of animals, and his willingness to sacrifice for those he loved. His power was not the flashy power of a performer, the practiced polish of a politician, or the power that money brings. Instead his power was love and like the power of water, it surrounded you, embraced you, and made you better. Lao-Tzu stated: In the world there is nothing more submissive and weak than water. Yet for attacking that which is hard and strong nothing can surpass it. That was my father’s power. He changed you by setting an example and by living his life the best way he knew how. He didn’t preach, he rarely lectured and he didn’t threaten, he simply led by example.

Here are the lessons I’ve learned from my father.

Sacrifice to provide for your family

My father worked seven days a week most weeks to provide for my brother, mother, and me. He was gone before I got up in the morning and came home tired and exhausted and in need of a nap. At the time, I never questioned the fact that my dad wasn’t home on weekends like other kids’ dads and assumed he worked because he wanted to. Now that I’m grown up and making similar sacrifices, I realize that there’s nothing he would have wanted more than to spend time with my brother and I, but that he realized the need to sacrifice himself to provide for us.

Money can’t buy love, but sacrificing yourself to provide for your family is one of the truest acts of devotion

Do Your Best

When I’d bring home a B, my father always asked why it wasn’t an A. At the time, I thought his expectations were unrealistic, but since I’ve became a parent, I’ve realized that he knew I could do better and that by challenging me, I would do better.

My dad firmly believed in an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay and he always made that fair exchange. He taught me to go the extra mile and to do my best because I was the one that would know if I hadn’t. He knew eventually I’d have to answer to myself and hoped that by prodding me to do better, I’d learn to prod myself.

Little things matter

Despite having a dad who worked seven days a week; I never felt like I missed out on his time or attention and I always knew that my brother and I mattered to him. I look back at pictures of my childhood and my dad was always at school plays, parent teacher conferences, and all the other events that fill a child’s life.

I know there were also a lot of nights when he came home and despite being tired from work, he would give in to my whining to go to the park, to go to the mall, go for ice cream, or to go walk around O’hare.

During the summer, we’d meet my dad for lunch or we’d go for ice cream after work and I always knew that he was there for me.

Catch them Being Good

When I was growing up, I always thought it was lame when my parents bragged about me and my brother. I’ve since learned that it’s a parent’s prerogative to brag about their kids and that all that bragging made me want to live up to my parents’ expectations.

It’s funny that the compliments my dad paid me behind my back meant as much or more than the ones he gave to my face. I’ll never forget walking into my dad’s hospital room in Iowa City and having the nurse say, “Oh, you must be his daughter who’s managing that big project in Georgia. Your dad’s really proud of you.” Despite how sick he was, he’d also managed to tell the nurse all about his wonderful son and his grandchildren.

Take care of others

My dad didn’t have much time for volunteering when I was growing up, but when he and my mom retired, they both spent time volunteering at Good Sam’s and helping out those who couldn’t help themselves. I always thought it was so funny to hear my parents, who were retired themselves talk about helping out the “old people.”

Despite living hundreds of miles away from his mamma, he always made time to visit her several times a year and to make sure she visited us. I have many happy memories of driving down to Poplar Bluff to visit my grandma.

Experience Life

I visited DeKalb, IL a few years ago and got to talking to the clerk at the gas station. I was shocked to learn that she’d never been to Chicago and that she’d never really traveled more than 20 miles from where she was born. I felt sorry for her as my parent made sure that my brother and I experienced as much life as possible. We traveled every summer, to Florida, to Colorado, to Texas, to Gettysburg, and to a host of other places. We even visited East St. Louis and the South Side of Chicago a few times, but I don’t think those trips were planned.

At each of those places, my parents made sure that we learned something. In Mobile, AL, we visited a battleship and learned about life at sea. In Gettysburg, we visited battlefields. At Mount Rushmore, we learned about our past and experienced a thrill of patriotism when we sang the national anthem and watched the lights flash across the faces of four of our most famous presidents.

My parents also worked hard to teach my kids about life and my dad liked nothing better than to take Sean and Caitlin to the Lock and Dam to watch the boats or to see the eagles, to local museums, to the zoo, and to other places where the kids could experience life and grandma and grandpa could experience the joy of being grandparents.

Forgive Others

My daddy was a man who believed in forgiveness and I experienced that forgiveness first hand. The first day I got my learner’s permit, my daddy took me driving and I drove into a ditch and wrecked the car. My daddy never held it against me. He just came home, we reported it to insurance and that was the end of it until my son turned 16. Then my dad and mom both had tell Sean the story of when his mom started driving and implore me to show him the same grace that I was shown.

My father’s forgiveness also extended to animals. We took my dog Luke out to visit my parents last summer and the first thing Luke did was to bite my dad’s dog Blue. My father was upset, but he forgave Luke and always looked forward to seeing him….as long as it was at my house.

Honor Your Elders

My brother and I were taught as children that our friends’ parents were Mr. and Mrs. not Jane and Bob. That we should open the doors for our elders and we should always give up the seat on the bus to someone older than ourselves. Those things mattered to my father and as such, they matter to me.

No elders were to be more honored than parents. Those of you who knew my grandmother Elaine knew that she was not always the easiest woman to be around. I once asked my daddy why he was so patient with her and he responded that that she was my mom’s mother and she deserved respect. And anytime I complained about her, he reiterated that I was to treat my grandmother with respect no matter what.

Love animals

Animals always held a special place in my daddy’s life. No trip to St. Louis was complete without a trip to the zoo and our home was never without a dog and my dad embraced most of the dog’s that I brought into my life.

One dog that my father had that my brother and I considered a questionable choice was Gizmo. Gizmo was a little yippy dog who was always begging. My parents had inherited Gizmo and once when I asked my dad how he could love Gizmo, he looked at me and said, “Because no one else does.” I learned a powerful lesson that day and I’ve tried very hard to be a little less judgemental.

My dad came by his love of animals naturally. I remember being at my grandmother’s once and she was complaining about this big old Tom cat that kept hanging around her house. My dad looked at her and said, “Well, Mom, he wouldn’t hang around if you didn’t put food out for him every day.’

Blue, my dad’s most recent dog, also benefited from my dad’s love. Blue came to my parents as an abused and abandoned dog about 13 years ago. When he first came into my parent’s lives, he wouldn’t let anyone pet his face and he shied away from most people. After a year or so living at my parents and being loved unconditionally by my dad, Blue became a lot friendlier and learned to love having his ears scratched.

Embrace your family

Family always mattered to my dad. He was close to his brothers and cousins and always made sure that my brother and I knew we had a family we belonged to. Although he wasn’t able to replicate the wild times he had running with “the boys,” he and my mother made sure we spent time with our extended families on both sides. We saw our cousins on my mom’s side regularly and several times a year, we’d head down to Poplar Bluff, Missouri to spend time with my father’s family.

Those were cherished times as we roamed the same streets my dad had roamed as a child, visited the store where he bought his soda pop, and visited our cousins and great aunts. Once a year was the big family reunion when we got spent time with the Easons, the Paytons, the Auds, and the Collins. I was never sure exactly who belonged to who, but I always knew I belonged because I was Junior’s daughter.

Family to my dad wasn’t only the people related to you by blood. My father drew people to him with his smile, his faith, and his loving spirit. As I look around the room, I see people my father knew for over forty years, people who he knew from General Mills and, no less cherished, people my parents met after they moved to Mount Carroll.

I know my father cherished all of your friendships and you were all an important part of his life.

Never be afraid to say I love you

I spent my 21st birthday at my Grandmother Collins’ bedside. She was critically ill and all the brothers had been called home to see her. That day was immensely hard as I watched my daddy cry and tell his mamma he loved her.

That day he told me to never be afraid to tell people you love them and to do it often so you never have to worry about someone leaving you without them knowing you loved them.

That’s a lesson I’ve taken to heart and I always make sure those I care about know how I feel.

In honor of my daddy, I’d like you all to turn to someone you love and let them know.