Eulogy: How My Father Changed My Life

Eulogy

There are times even now, when I awake to the sound of my father's voice and the unyielding calls of the restless ocean. When my mind is filled with the galumphing of his rubber boots, the unceasing sound of pages turning, and the burning scent of cigarettes. However, in these moments I am reminded that “no boat rides restlessly the waters of the pier” ( MacLeod, 1) and no man waits at the foot of the stairs.

We gather here to today in grief and remembrance of my father. A man who sacrificed far more in my lifetime than I ever gave him credit for. A man who taught me many lessons and filled my life with wonder; both from the books we read and the discussions we had.

I know that my father would of both loved and hated us gathering

From my first voyage on the Jenny Lynn, I began learning about life on the sea. My father taught me about the solidity of the wharf and very slowly I came to know “all about boat dimensions and engines” (MacLeod, 2). Little did I know, the knowledge I learned then would come to haunt me now.

In truth, my father lived his life bound to the sea but it was ultimately his love for his family that kept him there. He never complained nor tried to escape. Instead he lived his life in the confinement of his bedroom and in the deep endless pages of his

It was in that moment I realized how dependent we were on the boat and it was then that I bid my goodbyes to the books and plays that had filled my life with such wonder.

I remember being called into his room in which he “looked into my own dark eyes with his of crystal blue and placed his hand upon my knee. "I am not telling you to do anything,"he said softly, "only asking you"”(MacLeod, 9). However, in my own greedy desires, I returned to school. But, at the closing of the lobster season, my uncle left and once again I was pulled back into the confinement of the sea.

I began to fall into a pattern similar to that of my father's. During the day we fished and afterwards we spent our time indulging in the wonder of the stories. I learned about my father’s dreams and I ever would have adventures similar to those that authors concocted. It was within this time that a great love for my father had come into my heart and I realized “it was very much braver to spend a life doing what you really do not want rather than selfishly following forever your own dreams and inclinations” (MacLeod, 10). It was then that I knew I could never leave him alone and I told him that I would stay by his side till the very day he