It took me until adulthood to understand the heroic choices that my father made in his life, and how they affected our family. Let me explain; this is how I closed my father’s eulogy.
“To close, I want to share a passage from the prophet Ezekiel from chapter 18, verses 19 and 20, that points to the greatest gift my dad gave to us:
“‘Yet you ask, “Why does the son not share the guilt of his father?” Since the son has done what is just and right and has been careful to keep all my decrees, he will surely live. The one who sins is the one who will die. The child will not share the guilt of the parent, nor will the parent share the guilt of the child.‘
“My dad was rarely an openly affectionate man. He could be dismissive, a bit contemptuous… and sometimes we wondered why he had such difficulty articulating his emotions. But, as we grew, we recognized the impact of his childhood upon him. Growing up in a household with few resources and parents who struggled with their demons would leave any child more closed, more wary as they grew into adulthood. But decades ago, I realized the enormous gift my father really gave us. Psychology teaches us that abuse is cyclical, and we frail human beings often visit ‘the guilt of the parent‘ upon our own children. This my father resolutely refused to do. As Ezekiel reminds us, if my dad’s parents shortchanged him when he was young, he was free to relate to his children in a new and better way. He provided us the things he lacked growing up — affection, play, support, safety. We wanted for absolutely nothing. He was a walking firewall, someone smart enough to recognize the inadequate hand he was dealt growing up and resilient enough to know how to keep us from experiencing the same hardships. He never passed the pain on to us. He may have earned the right to park in a two star general’s parking spot in Heidelberg; but that was not what I respected and loved the most about him. He kept the demons of dysfunction away breathtakingly well. He did a spectacular job.
“We love you and already miss you so deeply, Dad. I know you are on the other side now, beyond illness and asking Saint Peter if he has weighted his portfolio towards indexed mutual funds. But Dad does these things because he loves you and wants for you the very best… just like he wanted it for us.”
Some superheroes become famous because they do heroic deeds. Some become heroic because of the things they resist doing. I think everyday about my father’s success in this regard, and it is a constant invitation to try and get it right, like he did.
-Kevin Murphy
Sudbury UMC Lenten Devotions 