Friday, June 27, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Signs
Yesterday was tough. There's not too much more I can say.
I played my flute in church yesterday. I wished for a red ribbon to wear in my hair, but I don't have one anymore. I was pretty nervous - I haven't performed at all in over four years, since I moved back to Austin. We ran through the song twice before church, and each time I cracked my first note pretty bad, plus a few others, which did not ease my trepidation. Anyway, normally we process in from the back of the church, but we didn't yesterday - I guess it's because it's summer and we're not wearing robes. That means we came in the side door, which you get to by walking through a hallway with some offices, including the children's ministries director. I have walked by there many times, but never on Sunday morning, so her door has always been closed. As I walked past yesterday morning, her door was open, and what to my wondering eyes did appear but a roomful of FROGS! I mean, this was a collection that dwarfed my dad's. It was pure-d craziness. I stood there stunned for a moment, and she said 'I know, it's ridiculous!' I said 'No, it's awesome.' :) and moved along - that was all I could say. I went on to play my song, with no bad notes. Thanks Dad.
Then last night we were watching the Celtics game. The Celtics got pretty far in the hole in the first half, but they almost pulled off another upset. As the commentators described what had happened, they said 'but the Celtics came roaring back!' That was Dad too. :)
I played my flute in church yesterday. I wished for a red ribbon to wear in my hair, but I don't have one anymore. I was pretty nervous - I haven't performed at all in over four years, since I moved back to Austin. We ran through the song twice before church, and each time I cracked my first note pretty bad, plus a few others, which did not ease my trepidation. Anyway, normally we process in from the back of the church, but we didn't yesterday - I guess it's because it's summer and we're not wearing robes. That means we came in the side door, which you get to by walking through a hallway with some offices, including the children's ministries director. I have walked by there many times, but never on Sunday morning, so her door has always been closed. As I walked past yesterday morning, her door was open, and what to my wondering eyes did appear but a roomful of FROGS! I mean, this was a collection that dwarfed my dad's. It was pure-d craziness. I stood there stunned for a moment, and she said 'I know, it's ridiculous!' I said 'No, it's awesome.' :) and moved along - that was all I could say. I went on to play my song, with no bad notes. Thanks Dad.
Then last night we were watching the Celtics game. The Celtics got pretty far in the hole in the first half, but they almost pulled off another upset. As the commentators described what had happened, they said 'but the Celtics came roaring back!' That was Dad too. :)
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Happy Father's Day, Dad
Knock knock
Who's there?
Wayne
Wayne who?
Wayne or shine, you're the best, Grand-dad!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Robert's Eulogy
Thank you all for being here today to celebrate the life of my dad. My family appreciates all the love and support you have shown to us during this difficult time. Thank you for the prayers, the food, the phone calls, and all the help you have provided.
I just want to share a few things about our dad from my perspective as his son. When I was growing up, my dad was my hero. I felt like he could do anything, and I wanted to be just like him. One of the things he did was play softball, and he was good at it. He was the pitcher on the church team. So as a kid, I wanted to play baseball, and I wanted to be a pitcher. Dad would take me to practice and play catch in the front yard with me. We’d go to the park, and he would throw the ball as high as he could, and I would catch it. He helped me to be a better baseball player. But more significantly, he just wanted me to have fun and be a good sport. He never put pressure on me to make it to the Major Leagues, and he never treated me differently whether I hit a home run or struck out. As long as I was having fun, he was happy. I knew from a young age that my father loved me unconditionally.
As I got a little older, I began to observe how my dad would interact with people. I remember walking down the halls of First United Methodist Church and watching him talk to people. I realized one day that he treated everybody exactly the same. He had a genuine interest in people, and he didn’t care if you were rich or poor, outgoing or shy, popular or unpopular. He loved to ask questions and find out people’s life stories. If you spoke with an accent, he wanted to know all about where you were from. He had a tender and compassionate heart for people who were maybe a little different or outside of the mainstream. He made them feel special. He had a servant’s heart and never considered himself better than anyone else.
As a teenager, I became heavily involved with my church youth group. Dad would come along as an adult sponsor on ski trips to Colorado in the winter and to Christian Adventure Camp in the summer. On the ski trips, Dad would always volunteer to ski the bunny slopes with the first time skiers. He did it with humility and with joy in his heart.
At Christian Adventure Camp out in the Texas Hill Country, Dad and I spent some of our best father/son time together. We would often sit together at Morning Watch, which was a time to sit quietly by the Frio River and reflect on God’s Creation. We would also walk the Prayer Trail together with my sister Susanna. The Prayer Trail was a path of Bible verses to reflect on that were written on signs by the graduating seniors. I always loved having my dad at camp with me, and I never felt like he was invading my teenage space. My friends loved having him there, too, and they always felt like they could be themselves around him. He had kind of a teenage since of humor, so he fit right in. He loved corny jokes, and he was never afraid to be a dork. It actually came naturally, and I loved that about him. He made us all laugh a lot, and he still does. As Mom included in his obituary, one of his claims to fame is singing the worst ever rendition of John Denver’s “Country Roads” at camp. As Mom put it, he couldn’t sing, he knew it, and he celebrated it. He would also hum the first note every time our family sang “Happy Birthday To You,” and it would usually take us half the song to figure out which key we were in.
I mentioned earlier that I knew from a young age that my father loved me unconditionally. At my church service in Austin a few weeks ago, the pastor was preaching about how many people cannot accept the unconditional love from their heavenly father because they have not received it from their earthly father. I have no doubt that my father loved me unconditionally. I have no doubt that he loved my sister Kathleen unconditionally. I have no doubt that he loved my sister Susanna unconditionally. He allowed us to be children, and he allowed us to be the people who God intended us to be. I know he loved his grandchildren, Andrew, Reid, and Zachary. I know he loved his wife Kathy, his family, his friends, and his Lord. I am blessed to have Terry Lawrence Sladek as my earthly father, and I want to give thanks and glory to our Heavenly Father who loves us all unconditionally. Thank you.
I just want to share a few things about our dad from my perspective as his son. When I was growing up, my dad was my hero. I felt like he could do anything, and I wanted to be just like him. One of the things he did was play softball, and he was good at it. He was the pitcher on the church team. So as a kid, I wanted to play baseball, and I wanted to be a pitcher. Dad would take me to practice and play catch in the front yard with me. We’d go to the park, and he would throw the ball as high as he could, and I would catch it. He helped me to be a better baseball player. But more significantly, he just wanted me to have fun and be a good sport. He never put pressure on me to make it to the Major Leagues, and he never treated me differently whether I hit a home run or struck out. As long as I was having fun, he was happy. I knew from a young age that my father loved me unconditionally.
As I got a little older, I began to observe how my dad would interact with people. I remember walking down the halls of First United Methodist Church and watching him talk to people. I realized one day that he treated everybody exactly the same. He had a genuine interest in people, and he didn’t care if you were rich or poor, outgoing or shy, popular or unpopular. He loved to ask questions and find out people’s life stories. If you spoke with an accent, he wanted to know all about where you were from. He had a tender and compassionate heart for people who were maybe a little different or outside of the mainstream. He made them feel special. He had a servant’s heart and never considered himself better than anyone else.
As a teenager, I became heavily involved with my church youth group. Dad would come along as an adult sponsor on ski trips to Colorado in the winter and to Christian Adventure Camp in the summer. On the ski trips, Dad would always volunteer to ski the bunny slopes with the first time skiers. He did it with humility and with joy in his heart.
At Christian Adventure Camp out in the Texas Hill Country, Dad and I spent some of our best father/son time together. We would often sit together at Morning Watch, which was a time to sit quietly by the Frio River and reflect on God’s Creation. We would also walk the Prayer Trail together with my sister Susanna. The Prayer Trail was a path of Bible verses to reflect on that were written on signs by the graduating seniors. I always loved having my dad at camp with me, and I never felt like he was invading my teenage space. My friends loved having him there, too, and they always felt like they could be themselves around him. He had kind of a teenage since of humor, so he fit right in. He loved corny jokes, and he was never afraid to be a dork. It actually came naturally, and I loved that about him. He made us all laugh a lot, and he still does. As Mom included in his obituary, one of his claims to fame is singing the worst ever rendition of John Denver’s “Country Roads” at camp. As Mom put it, he couldn’t sing, he knew it, and he celebrated it. He would also hum the first note every time our family sang “Happy Birthday To You,” and it would usually take us half the song to figure out which key we were in.
I mentioned earlier that I knew from a young age that my father loved me unconditionally. At my church service in Austin a few weeks ago, the pastor was preaching about how many people cannot accept the unconditional love from their heavenly father because they have not received it from their earthly father. I have no doubt that my father loved me unconditionally. I have no doubt that he loved my sister Kathleen unconditionally. I have no doubt that he loved my sister Susanna unconditionally. He allowed us to be children, and he allowed us to be the people who God intended us to be. I know he loved his grandchildren, Andrew, Reid, and Zachary. I know he loved his wife Kathy, his family, his friends, and his Lord. I am blessed to have Terry Lawrence Sladek as my earthly father, and I want to give thanks and glory to our Heavenly Father who loves us all unconditionally. Thank you.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Hey Bo Diddley!
I read today that Bo Diddley just died. I had to shut my office door to laugh and cry. How cool for my dad to finally get to meet him!
Obituary
This will only run online for another month so I decided to put it here. If you click on it you can see it full size to read it better.
What happened?
I apologize to anyone who reads Zachary's blog who did not know what was going on with my dad. He was just a very private person, and I knew he would not want me to post anything about him on Zachary's blog, but for it to be joyful.
I think I always assumed my dad would be around forever. His parents both lived well into their 80's, and they were not exactly the most health-conscious people. So it came as a shock when my dad was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer this past December. He had not been feeling well for a while - by the time he went to get checked out, it was just too far advanced, having already spread to his liver. I would like to strongly urge anyone reading this to get your colonoscopies as soon as it is recommended by your doctor!
Dad underwent nine or so rounds of chemotherapy, but it just didn't work. On May 2nd, after two weeks in the hospital, Dad went home and entered hospice care, and on May 14th my beloved dad passed away. All three of us kids were there, along with my mom and Charles and Jaime. He is now free from pain, but I miss him terribly. That's about all I can say right now!
I think I always assumed my dad would be around forever. His parents both lived well into their 80's, and they were not exactly the most health-conscious people. So it came as a shock when my dad was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer this past December. He had not been feeling well for a while - by the time he went to get checked out, it was just too far advanced, having already spread to his liver. I would like to strongly urge anyone reading this to get your colonoscopies as soon as it is recommended by your doctor!
Dad underwent nine or so rounds of chemotherapy, but it just didn't work. On May 2nd, after two weeks in the hospital, Dad went home and entered hospice care, and on May 14th my beloved dad passed away. All three of us kids were there, along with my mom and Charles and Jaime. He is now free from pain, but I miss him terribly. That's about all I can say right now!
Oh Very Young
What will you leave us this time?
You're only dancing on this earth for a short while.
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now...
They will vanish away like your daddy's best jeans,
Denim blue, fading up to the sky.
And though you want him to last forever you know he never will...
You know he never will.
And the patches make the good-bye harder still...
This is a song by Cat Stevens. My dad loved that song, and I have always loved it because he loved it. I had no idea how poignant and fitting it would be. I can hardly listen to it now. I'm sure with time I will grow to love it again.
We miss you Granddad.
You're only dancing on this earth for a short while.
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now...
They will vanish away like your daddy's best jeans,
Denim blue, fading up to the sky.
And though you want him to last forever you know he never will...
You know he never will.
And the patches make the good-bye harder still...
This is a song by Cat Stevens. My dad loved that song, and I have always loved it because he loved it. I had no idea how poignant and fitting it would be. I can hardly listen to it now. I'm sure with time I will grow to love it again.
We miss you Granddad.
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