Tribute to Dad by John A. Kazickas
I've often thought of this day, speaking to you at my dad's funeral, and thinking of what I would say, what words I could come up with to adequately describe my life with my dad, the person who was so much bigger than me, such a presence, such a force of good and love. I would start to write something, using quotes from famous people, trying to find the right words, but could never get past a sentence or two, too upset to think about the day he would not be here.
Well, that day is here, and I still can't find the right words.
How can you describe such a man, who went through so much to make it to America, and who provided so much to all of us? His ever present smile, his love of life and interest in the lives of his children and grandchildren. The successes, the failures, the happiness, the sorrow, all made for such a extraordinary person and life.
When my dad was born in 1918, I think even his parents knew he would be special. He was born still encased in the amniotic sac, something that does not often happen, and they took it as a sign that he would always be protected by god. Well, I think they were right. How else can you explain how he survived such a journey through life.
Over the last few years, I spent more time with him, and we talked a lot about fate, about luck, or God's plan and how he made it through it all.
He would talk about leaving Lithuania with my mom and sister, and my aunt and her family, wondering whether the would survive the journey west, away from the Russian, but they did, making it to Germany, with a bribe here and there, while scattering when fighters strafed the roads they where on. How he was at the train station being separated from mom and Jurate and somehow being pulled in by the wounded German soldiers on the hospital train, wondering would they get out alive before the bombings, but they did, hiding under the beds as the SS Officers searched the train for the stowaways. About how would he get to America to start a new life with nothing, applying to Harvard, Yale, and other Ivy League schools when the refugee camp officer told him that it was unlikely he would even hear back from them but he did, being accepted to all. And we would talk about his first days at Yale, how everyone around him was so smart and how on earth he was going to make it through. But he did, with the highest honors from his professors and peers.
I tell you this so you can appreciate what a unbelievable journey my mom and dad went through and how it shaped his views on faith and family. How he believed in this great country America, and the blessing it bestowed on him through his hard work, but never forgetting to be generous to others you meet. And how he loved all of us so much, wanting to make sure we would be alright after he was gone.
But he was a modest man. When years ago we encourage him to write his story , Odyssey of Hope, at first he was non committal. "There was so many stories like his", he would say but my mom said you must, you must do it for the grandchildren. And with my moms diary for guidance, I'm so happy we have this record of his life for all of us to read. In fact, just this year, it was translated to German and my father wrote a special forward, thanking those German soldiers who took him in and hid them that faithful night. How he regretted never properly thanking them in all the chaos when he left the train. What happened to them? Did they die days, weeks later? Did they survive the war? He wanted to the German people to know how compassionate they were in saving his life.
It is these things I want you to remember because he was a part of history that was so unbelievable, so different than today and I don't want anyone to lose sight of how all of us benefited for his extraordinary journey. His perseverance, hard work, and smarts got him through those tough times, but his family, faith, love and generosity enriched his life even more.
After my moms passing, he became obsessed with life after life. Reading books about near death experiences and what people went through as they transitioned at that critical moment, only to be brought back to live another day. I don't think he was afraid of dying, never saying he was ready to go. He loved to hear the stories of all his grandchildren too much to miss out on the next conversation. He was all about life.
But now this story book life comes to a close.
I will miss him dearly. I will miss his love and caring, his insistence to tell him a joke, his insight into his view of the world, and his wisdom so beyond anyone I knew.
Dad, I hope I can lead by your example, without you to guide me anymore, and pass on your gift of love, family faith and courage to my children and those around me. Forgive my failures and faults, and please help me through the challenges I will face ahead for I know I will need you there with me all the way.
And to all of you here today I thank you and leave you with this short toast I gave at his 95th birthday:
May our lives, like the leaves of the maple,
Grow more beautiful as they fade.
May we say our farewells, when it's time for us to go,
All smiling and unafraid.
And may we all see you again Dad, in heaven, where you will greet us all on that special day.