eulogy for Dad

My dad was triumphantly curious and intelligent. He cared deeply to understand the world around him, and he did so with a mastery that impressed both those who knew him well and passersby alike. 

With his intelligence came his humour. Despite English being his fifth language, he enjoyed playing with words and turning sentences inside out. “You have to make sure to smile afterwards”, he told me on an occasion that I tried to use one of his jokes out in public, “so that they know it’s a joke”. 

I tried so much to be like him when I was little and I wanted so much for him to think I was funny. One time he had brought me with him to see a building that he was designing in Kincardine. It was summer time and we were going to find somewhere to eat for lunch. When we sat down at the restaurant I decided that I wanted to have soup. When the waitress came over to our table and I asked what the soup of the day was, she responded, “I’m sorry, we’re actually out of the soup today”. Quick-witted 7 year old me replied, “well, what was it like to be IN the soup”? It took her a moment to realize that I had just made a killer joke but this time I remembered to smile so she quickly started laughing. I was so pleased with myself and my dad was really proud.

… 

I find it really complicated to encompass someone’s essence in such a short amount of writing. People are complicated and that shouldn’t be forgotten. We see so many sides of one person and yet other people experience many alternate ones that we will never understand. 

The sides of my dad that I want to take forward with me encompass his passion for living. 

First, he had immense appreciation for the beauty of the natural world. I will  think of him every time I see a river twinkle or trees blooming. We used to count every one of the blooming trees as he drove me to school when I was little. He said that the Earth is ours to take care of while we’re here, we’re just borrowing it. He used these principles to guide the sustainability of his designs and ensure that there was harmony between the earth and the building. In addition to the prioritization of environmental choices, this meant putting in the extra effort to make sure that the windows were facing a certain direction so that the sun would hit the room at just the right angles throughout the day. He taught me how to appreciate the smallest beautiful things - for being in nature is heaven on Earth. 

He also loved people deeply and wanted everyone to find belonging. This might seem like a strange example but I find it to be significant. He had a gift for finding connections with strangers. I can’t count the times that people I didn’t know told me how much they enjoyed speaking to him at their favorite coffee shop that they both frequented. At the time I didn’t really care that a random person liked my Dad, I just wanted to get my croissant and go home. But I see it differently now. The kind moments that you share with strangers in coffee shops can make your whole day. They can make you feel seen and important as you’re passing through this otherwise mundane place. 

He also loved his family immensely. It was only last year that I got to go to Hungary to meet some of his family members. Despite never meeting them before, they took me in like I had known them my whole life. They shared how much they missed my Dad and how much they loved when he came to visit. His sister Kati asked that I share how proud she is of him. That he overcame a lot of challenges and led a successful life. She wrote to me about how he left poverty and dictatorship. She said, “I will always remember where he started and how far he had come”. Despite him experiencing such challenges and hardships as a child, he never forgot the joy he felt too. He told me so many stories about him climbing cherry trees and going to the lake on the weekends with his siblings. He made sure that I knew that there was so much beauty to search for in the world around me. 

I think a significant part of the loss of losing a parent at a young age is losing the future that you wanted to have with them. As I grow and change it’s important to me that I don’t forget how much he valued the gift of living. Sometimes I worry this passion will become trivial or unimportant compared to the personal mountains that each of us climb everyday. But it’s genuine and it’s important that we stop and smell the flowers, that we extend kindness to strangers in coffee shops, that we tell people we love them and that we do the best we can in any given moment.