My dad died two and a half years ago. I wrote a speech for his memorial service which was held at the church where he was on staff in San Antonio, Texas. It was helpful in processing my grief to go through the multiple drafts of the speech and to remember anecdotes that I wanted to include. Since Dad's death was due to a long battle with stage 4 kidney cancer, I had time both to spend with him and savor the final visits as well as to begin writing the speech during his final weeks of life. Had he died suddenly, I don't think I could have been in the right frame of mind nor had the time to put this together. Still, delivering this speech was difficult for me. Though I enjoy public speaking and have done a lot of it in my career as a teacher, it was difficult to retain emotional composure when speaking about these memories. I didn't want to sob uncontrollably during the speech and not be able to get through it, as that wouldn't allow these thoughts to be articulated to the audience. I remember feeling a great peace come over me after I delivered the first paragraph, and then the audience's laughter at various memories (which were intended to be humorous) carried me through the rest of the speech. I am grateful to this day that I made it through those moments. I came across the file I had saved of this speech and wanted to post it on my blog, so that others could still remember my dad, and so that my children could read it.
Here is the speech from January 2007:
MARVIN ALLYN SMITH: MEMORIES OF OUR DAD
"Many of you have memories of Marvin as a friend, coworker, pastor, or missionary. We knew him as a dad, and we want to share with you some of the things we will remember most about him.
Dad’s priority was always his family. He always had time for us and gladly dropped everything when we approached him with a question or needed help. Dad and Mom attended every sporting event and school function we had. In fact, Dad even kept a detailed notebook on all the stats for Melody’s volleyball and basketball games which he would scrutinize for hours. He also memorized the Oklahoma State course catalog while I was in college and mailed me frequent schedule options in order to help me accomplish my goal of graduating early. His guidance and involvement actually enabled me to graduate from college in only three years without a single wasted credit hour! I can remember him working large puzzles for hours with my brother and building a model ship with him – the Cutty Sark. Dad built a basketball court in the backyard of our Colorado home for us to use, and he built my brother a wooden ramp during his skateboarding phase. He took on the task of teaching me to drive the most formidable of all cars: a 1974 Ford Maverick with no power steering and a column shift. He never got frustrated or lost his patience no matter how many times I stalled the car in traffic. We knew he loved us unconditionally, and he was always committed to whatever activity or interest his children had.
Dad always tried to make family time meaningful while we were growing up. We would often request “Dad’s special popcorn” which consisted of a very precise method of popping the corn, melting real butter on the stove in just the right pan, drizzling the butter over the popcorn “just so,” then distributing portions into the triangle shaped pockets inside our paper napkins. Then, we would cuddle together as a family on one sofa to watch a PBS mini series such as “The Flame Trees of Theka” or The Lawrence Welk Show. In addition, Dad finished out the crawl space under our stairs which was attached to my brother’s bedroom in order to create a special secret area where Asher would play Star Wars for hours. Dad even dug holes in our backyard sod to make our own personal putt-putt golf course, and he tried to grade the difficulty of the holes using the “principles of physics” which he often told us about. Often, on Saturday mornings Dad would make his homemade pancakes, cooking them in shapes onto the griddle.
In addition to his involvement with us, Dad taught us his excellent sense of planning and organization. I grew up reading Consumer Reports as my magazine of choice since we always had back issues on our coffee tables. Dad would always research every major purchase, and the Consumer Reports magazines were still next to his recliner in his final weeks of life. I learned to research my own purchases and comparison shop by his example. When Dad was still able to carry on a conversation, my last interaction with him was about how to select a contractor for my new fence, as he gave me advice from his experience. He helped me with my first tax form, my first bank statement, and my first college application. His most amazing organizational feat was how much he could pack into a car for a trip. When it was time to take me to college, Dad managed to fit my entire wardrobe, bedding, and all the items for my dorm room into our small Honda Civic Wagon, and we still had passenger room for a family of five. We never understood how he was able to masterfully arrange the luggage!
Dad always exemplified hard work, perseverance, and self-discipline to us. His brother, my Uncle Glen, used to tell me that when they were in high school Dad insisted on getting up at the crack of dawn every morning to practice the piano for several hours before school. Of course, this woke up the entire family, but Dad was diligent in his practicing. When I was in 9th grade, Dad offered to help me run a paper route to earn my spending money; this taught me the value of earning my own money and to appreciate hard work. Dad got up with me at 5:30 every morning for over a year and helped me roll the papers while it was still dark outside, and then he trudged alongside me through our neighborhood in Colorado Springs. We delivered those papers together in rain and snow and endured being chased by dogs. Dad did it all for no share in my monetary profit, and he often delivered the route alone, so I could spend the night at a friend’s house. Dad always believed you should work hard and finish what you start, and he was always willing to walk alongside us to help us get the task done.
Another thing my father taught us was the love of education. Due to his encouragement, his three children represent three bachelor’s degrees, one master’s degree, and a Ph.D. Dad loved to learn and always impressed upon us that education is a never ending process. When I finally finished my College Algebra course, which was my albatross, I couldn’t wait to resell my textbook. Dad said not to resell it because he wanted to have it to be able to work math problems -- for fun. That was my dad! We were the only family I knew who had a large whiteboard on a wall in our home where Dad would help us work out our homework problems and tutor us if we were having trouble. I spent hours in high school watching him excitedly work algebra and chemistry problems on that whiteboard in our own little “classroom.” He was a gifted teacher; I saw him come to life when he was teaching as he bounced around on the balls of his feet with his hands clasped together, and I loved learning from him.
But most of all, our dad was a man of true faith. I knew that when I woke up, I could always find Dad every morning in his leather chair in his home office, drinking coffee, with his black leather Bible open on his lap. He led by example, and he always put Christ at the center of his life. He surely was a man after God’s own heart. He offered wise, Biblical advice to us, and he was always the first person I called for counsel, even through my adult life.
Dad loved Bill Miller BBQ, In and Out Burger, real maple syrup on ice cream, See’s chocolate candy, the OSU Cowboys, Braums, Collin Street Bakery fruitcake, talking about his Navy days, working math problems, playing the piano, teaching people, and serving God.
Though we will miss Dad every day, we do not grieve as those who have no hope. Our hope is in knowing that Dad had faith in Jesus Christ as his personal savior, and that is what enabled him to be the man that he was. Dad is now enjoying the glory of the presence of the Lord. He is wearing his crown of righteousness, and Dad surely heard the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
