Our Flip

We lost our precious Flip on Wednesday, April 9, 2008 at 11:05 p.m. On April 18, 2008, we celebrated his life at the DFW National Cemetery. Flip was buried with military honors. I wrote this to read at his service, but I wasn't able to read all of it. I just wanted to post it so that everyone would know that Flip will always be remembered.

Anyone who knows Flip, knows that he is a fixer. He always liked to take care of things for other people. At the end of his life, Flip was trying to fix himself. He was ready to get up and go… all the way to the very end. I could tell that the time was getting closer, but I also knew that Flip needed to be told that we would be ok. I whispered in his ear that it was ok to let go because I would make sure that Mother was taken care of. He seemed to look at me when I told him that – as if he understood. I wanted to tell him more, but I didn’t have the courage to do it. If I could have done it, I would have told him about all the things that I would forever remember about him.

Things like –
Learning how to two step with him – he had his own special style that was quite different from Mike’s with a funny little half-step that I had a hard time figuring out.

The way he always said, “Hey, Baby” when he found out it was me on the phone and “Hello, Men” when the boys would walk through the back door for a visit.

Letting Kyle climb the baby tree that was in the back yard of the house in DeSoto - Kyle was about three in the pictures we took of them out there together. Flip was lying on the ground near the tree watching over Kyle to make sure he didn’t fall and hurt himself.

How Mother always wanted me to make sure that Flip’s chair was left available when he walked into the room, but he used to always tell me to sit in it because he knew I liked it better than any other piece of furniture.

When they bought their dogs, Shabby and Bo, they bought Bo for Flip because he looked like a dog that Flip used to have when he was younger. But because Bo was always my favorite, he decided to let me take him home to be mine when they discovered that the dogs weren’t getting along like they wanted them to. Bo used to always sit at Flip’s feet while Flip would move his foot so that it would pet Bo the whole time that he stayed there. Bo still puts his chest up to our feet on the floor for us to pet him – a little reminder of Flip.

Speaking of reminders that he left for us: there is the spice rack that just happened to appear on my pantry door on the day I moved into my new home (I had commented on my mom’s and that I would love to have one too). The soccer bench made for Shane’s team after I told him that they were having to sit in wet grass during their games (the bench was big enough for the whole team and both coaches to sit on). The yellow book shelf that was made for my very first classroom 19 years ago (I still have it sitting beside my desk every year and knowing Flip, it will last another 20 years!). The swing tied up in the tree for the kids to play with (Shane is almost over being afraid of going too high and even Kyle still likes to swing on that thing!).

Another memory that I will hold dear is the Veterans’ Day memories. Every year on Veteran’s Day, I do a writing lesson with my students. After reading a few books and discussing some of the history involved in some of the more recent wars that our country was involved in, I give my students some options for writing. Most of them always chose the option of writing a thank you letter to Flip thanking him for his service to our country and for helping in the fight for freedom. I would give him the letters on Thanksgiving Day. He would not read them right away. Instead, he would slip away into his office and read them when he was by himself. He always came out and told me pretty much the same things every year, “You thank those kids for me. They didn’t have to write those nice things about me. I didn’t do anything special. I’m no hero.” But the fact is that he was a hero – then and now. It was evident in so many parts of his life, and eventually in mine.

So, Flip, since I didn't have the courage to tell you everything before you left us, I want to tell you these words. I overheard Mother calling you her “knight in shining armor” several times in the last couple of weeks. I have thought about that term a lot. She really had it right. You gallantly swept Mother off her feet and took care of us as if we were your own family. In my eyes, that makes you a hero in every sense of the word.

In the Bible, Jesus said, “In my Father’s house are many rooms. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.” Well, I am sure that by now you have found the room prepared just for you. You have probably set up your office in the corner of that room. I can see you there in that big comfy chair right by the window, a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. On the other side of the room is a set of tools and a collection of saws that you have already used to create a walkway bridge that leads you to the next cloud. It is there that you go to sit outside and look down on us sitting on your deck and watch the boys swinging away on your swing.

I love you, Flip. You will be missed.