Eulogy - Rex Henry Ballard Jr.
It requires a special person to write a eulogy. A eulogy, is something that praises someone and their life after they've died. You have to take everything that person ever was and ever did, and carefully put it down so that, when people hear it, they can all nod, smile and say, "Yeah, he sure was."
But to take all that my Dad was, would take another lifetime to read because he was so much to so many people in so many different ways. He created so many memories through all of us. We all formally knew him as Rex Henry Ballard ... Jr. and you remember him as the talented musician who always had music with him wherever he went. It was in his walk, his style and the rhythm of his whole life. One might venture to say that music was his only true love. He would pour it out for you, like some potion that would cure whatever ales you, giving it freely, with a twinkle in his eye and a smile in his heart.
Some of my most cherished memories as a child were on Sunday mornings. I never knew how early my Dad started, but I do remember waking up to guitar chords and licks from some melody I've never bothered to learn and hearing his poor attempt at singing them reminded me of why. But in those moments, when it was just him and his guitar, you could see happiness and love radiate from him. It filled the whole house. At times, it seemed like the whole universe sang with him on Sunday morning. Today, whenever I hear the original artists of those songs, I'll always remember that my Dad sang them to me first.
Even though he was a bad singer, he was a good song writer. He was a poet and a lover of life. Many of you will know him as a friend, who willingly and quickly did whatever he was capable, to help anyone who really needed it. He was a Buddhist who believed in Karma and the rippling effect the good will mankind can have on the universe. So, he did his part, whatever it was, whenever he could.
He was a mountain man, an amazing camper, a teacher and a fisherman who never caught anything because he was too busy teaching everyone else how to. In between the snags, the tangled lines and his crying children's cold feet, I always wondered why he liked it so much. Later, I realized the magic. It was those moments of quiet, and peace he had, when he was finally able to talk with the river, and the trees and the sky. He was a lover of nature and surrounded himself within it, whenever he could. But, never without his guitar.
He was a brother, an uncle, and to his four kids, a father and mentor who's lessons will be echoed throughout our lives and the lives of everyone we're in contact with, like ripples in a pond or the current in the river, it's unstoppable. He was a hard worker who would commute to different states for weeks to put food in his families stomachs, a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs.
He was a role model, a guardian, and if you've ever heard of McGurk at the Roadhouse, he was also a comedian with a split personality. His humor was ceaseless and sometimes, pretty dry. But, there was always an optimism in his attitude, in spite of the darkness people face, everyday.
Each of us has our own version of Rex. We each have our own title that we've given him. If you can, write it down and read it aloud to anyone who will listen, so that everyone can hear his story, who he was, and remember him as the person he always strived to be, of the struggles he fought to get there and the pains he endured for his, his family's and his friend's happiness's.
We're here to honor the life of our father, mentor, brother, friend, husband, companion, lover, poet, singer/songwriter, musician, comedian, painter, illustrator, guardian, artist, chef, fisherman, teacher, ... Cubs fan, the list can continue until tomorrow, but most of all, to me ... my Dad, was the Greatest man I'll ever know.
In writing his eulogy, I hope that all of you will remember something good about him and say, "Yeah, he sure was."
But to take all that my Dad was, would take another lifetime to read because he was so much to so many people in so many different ways. He created so many memories through all of us. We all formally knew him as Rex Henry Ballard ... Jr. and you remember him as the talented musician who always had music with him wherever he went. It was in his walk, his style and the rhythm of his whole life. One might venture to say that music was his only true love. He would pour it out for you, like some potion that would cure whatever ales you, giving it freely, with a twinkle in his eye and a smile in his heart.
Some of my most cherished memories as a child were on Sunday mornings. I never knew how early my Dad started, but I do remember waking up to guitar chords and licks from some melody I've never bothered to learn and hearing his poor attempt at singing them reminded me of why. But in those moments, when it was just him and his guitar, you could see happiness and love radiate from him. It filled the whole house. At times, it seemed like the whole universe sang with him on Sunday morning. Today, whenever I hear the original artists of those songs, I'll always remember that my Dad sang them to me first.
Even though he was a bad singer, he was a good song writer. He was a poet and a lover of life. Many of you will know him as a friend, who willingly and quickly did whatever he was capable, to help anyone who really needed it. He was a Buddhist who believed in Karma and the rippling effect the good will mankind can have on the universe. So, he did his part, whatever it was, whenever he could.
He was a mountain man, an amazing camper, a teacher and a fisherman who never caught anything because he was too busy teaching everyone else how to. In between the snags, the tangled lines and his crying children's cold feet, I always wondered why he liked it so much. Later, I realized the magic. It was those moments of quiet, and peace he had, when he was finally able to talk with the river, and the trees and the sky. He was a lover of nature and surrounded himself within it, whenever he could. But, never without his guitar.
He was a brother, an uncle, and to his four kids, a father and mentor who's lessons will be echoed throughout our lives and the lives of everyone we're in contact with, like ripples in a pond or the current in the river, it's unstoppable. He was a hard worker who would commute to different states for weeks to put food in his families stomachs, a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs.
He was a role model, a guardian, and if you've ever heard of McGurk at the Roadhouse, he was also a comedian with a split personality. His humor was ceaseless and sometimes, pretty dry. But, there was always an optimism in his attitude, in spite of the darkness people face, everyday.
Each of us has our own version of Rex. We each have our own title that we've given him. If you can, write it down and read it aloud to anyone who will listen, so that everyone can hear his story, who he was, and remember him as the person he always strived to be, of the struggles he fought to get there and the pains he endured for his, his family's and his friend's happiness's.
We're here to honor the life of our father, mentor, brother, friend, husband, companion, lover, poet, singer/songwriter, musician, comedian, painter, illustrator, guardian, artist, chef, fisherman, teacher, ... Cubs fan, the list can continue until tomorrow, but most of all, to me ... my Dad, was the Greatest man I'll ever know.
In writing his eulogy, I hope that all of you will remember something good about him and say, "Yeah, he sure was."
Labels: biography, death, family, fathers, inspiration, religion, writing
2 Criticisms:
Heres to you, Rex. Although I never got to meet you, I've felt one of those ripples through your son. Andy has a lot of those same qualities written about you.
You've said it all so beautifully, my Son. I'm still hoping I'll wake up and this will all have been a bad dream. In his untimely death we're reminded that we don't know whether or not we'll have time to...call to say hello, share a thought or memory, remind someone you love them. Let's all remember to seize the day. Carpe diem!
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