My dad passed away on April 6, 2013. I gave this eulogy at his funeral mass on April 9th:
Hello… most of you know that I am John’s youngest son Dan… or probably Danny to most of you. I’d like to sincerely thank you all for being here. Your presence, your prayers, your support, and your love are greatly appreciated. I recently read a quote saying that, “Our family tree… is full of nuts.” I know, however, that my family tree is full of tremendously warm-hearted people that have loved and supported us in countless ways over the years. A special thanks to all my aunts and uncles on both sides of the family for being there for all of us. Beyond that we have some amazing family friends who have also been a rock for me and my family. Thank you Fr. Walt for all that you do for us and allowing me to speak for a few minutes about my father. Thank you to Nancy, Stephanie, and the choir for the beautiful music.
Before I talk about my dad, I’d like to take a minute to recognize my mom. Mom… your selfless, unceasing love for dad has been amazing. It’s a blessing to all of us to have witnessed your care and compassion for dad and I want to thank you for all that you’ve done for him and all that you do for our family. We all love you very much.
My dad married my mom over 45 years ago but it’s worth noting that she wasn’t my dad’s first love… his first love would be food! When he was a little boy in the hospital, I believe for getting his tonsils removed, a nurse called his mother and said, “Mrs. Bender, your son John keeps saying ‘yammich, yammich’ and we don’t know what he wants.” My grandmother replied, “oh, he wants a ham sandwich!”
If his first love was food, his second love would have been baseball. He grew up in the golden-age of baseball in the 40’s and 50’s and watched the greats like Joe DiMaggio, Bob Feller, and Ted Williams. As the Indians were on their way to winning 111 games and the American League pennant in 1954, my dad was beginning his freshman year at Benedictine High School. The rule of St. Benedict is “ora et labora”, which means “prayer and work.” I would bet that when my dad tried out for the Freshman Baseball team, he worked really hard and prayed that he’d make the team but as fate would have it, he got cut by legendary Benedictine coach Augie Bossu. Not sure if he ever got over that but as they say, when one door closes, God opens another.
That other door for my dad was working for the Indians on the grounds crew at old Municipal Stadium. He got to meet and speak with his boyhood heroes and had a front row seat to a part of Americana that is deemed sacred in some circles. Beyond that, this job of his gave ME bragging rights over three decades later when I debated my 3rd grade buddies as to who had the coolest dad.
After graduating from high school in ’58, my dad left town and joined the U.S. Navy on June 30, 1958. He was always proud of his service and spoke very fondly of his time in the Navy. He told me it was the best time of his life. The Navy gave him “four square meals a day” which went nicely with that “first love” I mentioned a moment ago and the Navy also allowed a kid from Parma Heights to see the world and begin to grow into the man he’d become.
When his Navy days were over, he came home and began working and going to college at night. One night, sometime after my grandfather passed away, my dad made the decision to go out for the evening after spending many nights at home with his widowed mother. He ventured over to the Cloverleaf Bowling Lanes that night and met a gal from Garfield who liked to sip on an occasional highball… He had met my mom, his third love if you will.
My parents were married on August 26, 1967 at Sts. Peter and Paul Church and I know many of you were there that summer day. They moved into a new home on Sarasota Blvd. in Parma and celebrated their first anniversary by changing my brother John’s diapers. My parents celebrated their second anniversary by changing John AND Eric’s diapers! And if my math is right, I think they celebrated their third anniversary by making my brother Mark… and of course changing more diapers. Finally, in May of ’74, my parents finally got their daughter when my sister Colleen was born. Fast forward to 1980, after much thoughtful planning and discernment, my parents made the very deliberate decision to have a fifth child…. Me! At least that’s what I like to believe. It all worked out.
In between my sister’s arrival and mine, the Benders moved to Brecksville. My dad loved everything about this town where he spent the rest of his life. Some of the best friends my parents ever had were our neighbors in White Oaks. My dad was actually the treasurer for the neighborhood beautification association and took great pride in his neighborhood and city.
Another thing he cherished about Brecksville was this parish. My dad was a faithful and proud Catholic. Every Sunday morning he had us here no matter how tired or busy we were. For a period of time he would help count and reconcile the Sunday collection until he switched roles into what Vegas would call a more of a, “front-off-the-house” ministry and became an usher at 10:30 mass. In fact, Fr. Walt, I am a little surprised that given my dad’s history here, we didn’t take up some sort of collection today!
When we left Mass, my dad did NOT stop instilling the faith in us. He used to remind me all the time of the words from the gospel that, “to whom much is given, much is expected.” Those words have always stuck with me and in realizing the wonderful family I’ve been blessed with, the good education I’ve received, and the opportunities presented before me, I am driven not only do the best I can for myself but also give back to a world which has given me so much.
My dad also taught us that being part of a family meant that you contribute. I recall one summer when I was about ten years old. I had been mowing our lawn for a little but had recently heard that some of my friends were making money for cutting their own grass. I asked my dad about throwing me a few bucks and to my surprise, he quickly agreed to give $20 each time I mowed the lawn. Then, without missing a beat, he then informed me that dinner would cost $15 and if I wanted a place to sleep, that would be $40 per night…. Showers were extra. I got the point.
Most guys have a hobby. Fishing.. Playing golf… whatever. My dad did not have a hobby. With a wife and five kids, if he wasn’t working selling software or payroll or whatever he was selling that year, he was being a husband and a dad. He was either coaching John and Eric’s baseball team, driving Mark to a BMX bike race, attending one of Colleen’s plays, or watching my football games… whatever it was, he tried to be there. If he had a hobby, it would have been cutting out coupons and grocery shopping. He also loved heading down to the Food Terminal early in the morning to buy a giant box of potatoes or oranges. We’d keep about half and then my dad would have me run bags full of produce to our neighbors. That’s another thing about my dad… he was generous and his way of saying he loved you was to make sure you were well fed.
I have many wonderful memories of my dad that I pray never fade. Lots of memories of watching games, sitting around the dinner table, or whatever. He was very nostalgic and loved telling, then retelling those stories over and over. However, if I had to distinguish one memory in particular, it would be from about five or six years ago before his health really began to decline. One Sunday, the entire family was over my parent’s house for some reason. We grilled out and had a nice dinner on a summer evening. After we ate, I found myself sitting on the back patio with my dad. He had requested that we put on a CD by “The Three Tenors.” When their version of Frank Sinatra’s “I Did It My Way” came on, he asked that we turn it up louder. Now, with Pavarotti and company blaring at 120 decibels so that the entire neighborhood could hear, my dad sat with an introspective look in his eyes and a smile on his face. He looked around at his family and at his grandkids that were catching lightening bugs in the backyard as the sun set. As twilight approached, I could tell he knew he was approaching the twilight of his life. I saw a beautiful sense of accomplishment in my father’s eyes as looked around at all of us. He was looking at his legacy… a legacy of love that he had built… a legacy of love built “his way.”
Now back to that rule of the Benedictines… Ora et Labora… Prayer and Work. As today’s second reading says, my dad will rest from his labor yet his good works will go with him. No more work for him, no more pain, no more dialysis, and no more hospitals. No more suffering. But there is still prayer. We pray that God’s angels usher my dad into the dwelling place that Jesus has promised and prepared for him that we heard proclaimed in today’s gospel. Beyond that, I ask for all of your prayers. Please pray for me, my mom, and all my family that we might know God’s comfort and peace and somehow learn to live without having our father nearby.
This is the Easter season and we are truly people of the resurrection. We can take comfort in just saying “see you later” to our dad, and not “good bye.”
In closing, I will say this… My dad loved. Sometimes he was blunt, stubborn and impatient but he made us laugh. He was old-school. He had his convictions and didn’t compromise on what he believed to be right. My dad sacrificed to provide for his family and did that without hesitation. In the midst of financial hardship and being out of work, he still put money in the basket every Sunday and taught us how to trust in God’s providence. He was witty, he was loyal, and he was my hero. He was one of a kind. My dad cared for all of us and he prayed for all of us. He was faithful husband, a wonderful father, and a loving grandpa. Whether you knew him as a brother, an uncle, a cousin, a neighbor, or as a friend, we are all blessed to have known John Bender.
Dad, I know you can hear me and I just want to say “thank you.” You served your community, your parish, and your country. You served your family and served the Lord. And Dad, more, much more than this, you did it your way. We love you.
Thank you and God Bless.
