Roy William Loghry October 24, 1936 - November 9, 2011

Tomorrow it will be one month since my father passed away. Here is the video/slideshow we created, and the words I spoke at his funeral. I miss you Dad, I love you.

-- Ryan

Who was my Dad?

Dad was a Christian. He was a deacon at Trinity Baptist Church. I'm not
a preacher, I'm not a great public speaker, but there are couple things I
have to say:

1. For those of you who aren't Christians, God loves you. All he wants is
for you to accept him as your savior, to love him, trust and have faith in
him; and for you to love those around you.

2. For those of you who are Christians, God wants two things from you,
put him first in your life; and for you to love one another. It's really that
simple. Look around you, whether you are at work, in your
neighborhood, at the supermarket, where ever you are. There are
people who need some love. Whether it's kind words and some
compassion, or something more. Getting home to watch another
episode of Rockford Files is not as important as helping
another human being.

Dad was a great husband. He always put my mom first. He always
supported her, from the daycare center she and Margaret ran, to her
tole painting, whatever it was, he was supportive. In a society that
seems to value marriage less and less, he was a loyal and
devoted husband, I never worried that my parents were going to get a
divorce, it was inconceivable.

Dad had great taste in women. My mom has been there almost every
day for the last 10 months, by his side. She only took a couple days off
because we made her in the beginning, but we eventually realised that
the love of her life was up at that home, and she couldn't stay
home and rest. She couldn't. The home isn't a fun place to be, it sucks
the energy right out of you. And yet she was there, making sure he had
whatever he needed, even if she had to do it herself. She fought so
hard, and came so close to getting him back home many times, but
each time something would come up to keep him there. She never lost
faith though, she kept trying kept praying, kept trusting that God knew
what was best, that God had a plan. And God did, he took Dad home.
He is no longer in pain. He is eternally free from that, walking with Jesus
today. He's probably looking for the ball field, trying to get a pick-up
game of baseball going, and bragging about being the only kid who
could make the throw from third to first.

Dad was the best Dad I ever could have asked for. When I was a jerky
teenager, who argued and had the ability to annoy him just by looking at
him, he never failed to speak the truth. For you young folks out there, I
would like to share with you what I learned from that:
Parents aren't bossing you around because it's fun, and they enjoy the
power. They love you. They love you more than anyone in the world!
They are your greatest advocate. They want you to succeed. So
when the media, the world, your friends, or whoever tells you it's okay
not to trust your parents, to disrespect them, to lie to them, don't fall for
it like I did. I wasted too many really good years with my dad over this.
Don't let them drive a wedge between you and the people who love you
most.

Dad loved anything Grandma cooked; Aunt Lu's Pumpkin Roll (just not
everyday for a month); corn and oysters at Thanksgiving (ew!); lattes
from Starbucks; black walnut ice cream, pork loins cooked over the fire
at elk camp; Karen's lasagna; my burritos; Grandma's cinamon rolls!;
and until he went into the home bacon and eggs once a week for
breakfast.

My Dad was a pragmatic, common sense American. He was fiercely
patriotic. He was well informed from watching more news than I could
ever stand, every day. He wasn't afraid to tell you his opinion about
what was going on either. Dad was never concerned with being
politically correct. So I would be remiss if I didn't say this in memory of
Dad: America is a nation of FREE people. Protect your freedoms. Vote
the bastards out. If you knew Dad you knew didn't trust politicians on
either side.

Dad taught me to work, he taught me a love of the outdoors - hunting,
fishing, shooting; sports - by the time I was a little kid Dad had fallen off
the cliff at Cedar Creek while fishing with cousin Danny; and fallen off
his motorcycle while riding with cousin Johnny around the
power lines, what we called The Honda Hills back in the day. His back
would be a constant pain to him for the rest of his life. But being in the
outdoors was a kind of therapy for Dad. My love of creeping along old
logging roads in low gear, looking for game, or just looking at
the countryside comes directly from Dad (Mom despises any road
longer than a driveway that isn't paved). Dad loved to golf, he played
until he couldn't drive the ball because of his bad back. Dad had that
crazy handlebar mustache.

Dad taught me to never give up. You can fail, but you damn well better
pick yourself back up, and try again. And I saw him put that into
practice. He worked a job for 34 years, it was a good job that provided
for his family, that was most important. But I heard him say more than
once that he would have liked to have gotten on with the Forest Service,
and spent his time in the hills. Also, he never gave up in the rest home. I
don't think most of you know what a struggle the last 11 months were.
But he and Mom fought hard to make it through every day. EVERY.
DAY. Dad lived to see his grandson, to experience the joy of that little
boy, through sheer determination, and by the grace of God. That's hard core, that
was my Dad.

I thank you for your time here today, for caring about Dad and our family
enough to be here. I thank you for listening to me, and for letting me
speak to you. May God richly bless you, and your family.

Wm. Ryan Loghry
November, 2011