The following are some of the thoughts I shared at Jeff's funeral on Monday. The hardest thing for me about sharing my thoughts was trying to condense a lifetime of memories into just a few minutes of highlights. The same is true here on this blog. I try to keep it short and sweet, oh, but when it comes to sharing about my husband, I have a hard time shutting up.
Jeff was born on December 17, 1957 in Spokane to Marvin Dean and Charlotte Dietzel. On Sunday he would have turned 49. But Jeff never liked to make a fuss about his birthday. He never wanted me to throw him any kind of a birthday party and did not appreciate those kind of surprises which was a request I honored. But as all the people gathered together to celebrate his life was giving him the party he never wanted.
Jeff came into this world with incredible courage and determination. He had a voracious appetite to learn and was insatiably curious. He was one of those incredibly intelligent, sensitive spirits who had a deep desire to do what was right.
As the oldest child, he took on his role of big brother very seriously and did his best to take care of his siblings. He liked school, getting good grades, playing baseball, going to the lake, fishing, water skiing, working in the yard and garden with his dad, and family vacations to the ocean. He did not like getting in trouble or making mistakes.
As a child Jeff learned to work hard and he learned how to clean thoroughly which was what he did when he got upset. That had its advantages sometimes because cleaning has never been my strength. In fact, thanks to the training he received at home, Jeff was always a much better housekeeper than I ever was. A few years ago, he announced to me that he was going to take over the laundry because he was tired of not having matched socks. I welcomed his offer and gladly turned that chore over to him.
Whatever Jeff put his mind to, he did and he did it well. He had a gift for organizing chaos, paying attention to detail and perfecting systems. He used that gift in his work, at home, and in the kitchen. When we were first married, my attempts at baking bread were pathetic, so he took over that role in the family and became the baker and enjoyed trying new recipes and methods. Over the years, he worked on perfecting the system and became famous for his yeast rolls. I always had to smile when people would invite us to dinner if Jeff would bring the rolls.
Jeff loved decorating for Christmas and getting the lights on perfectly. I remember the joy of watching him plan and decorate our very first Christmas tree. Often I would find him up at night just sitting in front of the tree just enjoying the beautiful lights. This was a pattern that has been repeated every year since then. I tried to decorate the tree once by myself because Jeff had not had time to do it yet. When he got home from work, he took one look at the tree, completely undecorated it, took off all the lights and began again. I did not take offense, only enjoyed the finished product even more.
Jeff loved many things, but mostly he loved being a daddy. He was so excited when he found out he was going to be a father and from the beginning was totally involved. He was the one that first heard our babies cry at night and would get up to check on them. He was the one who would stay up all night rocking an ill child, even if he had to be to work in the morning. It didn’t matter how tired he was when he got home, he would make playing with his children a priority. He would get on the floor and wrestle and tease and tickle and just play.
Jeff loved cultural things; the symphony, the theater and fine dining. But his favorite events to attend were anything his children were involved in: concerts, performances, ball games. He would do anything he could to just be there. Even after he started getting sick and had lost his eyesight and could not walk, he insisted on going to a play that his daughter was in. He couldn’t really enjoy what was going on, he just wanted to be there for her.
Jeff also loved to tease. It just brought him great delight. His children, nieces and nephews, and friends that would come over were all targets for the Chinese spit torture or the tickle torture. There were also casualties in furniture and lamps and walls because sometimes the wrestling would get out of hand. But the kids loved it. But he had a rule if someone initiated the teasing or the water fight. Paybacks are worse.
He loved teasing me too. He would often tell me that I was his entertainment and he loved doing anything he could to get me; throwing cold water on me in the shower, using my body to warm his ice cold feet, pulling my covers off at night just because he could. I would often tell him what a turkey he was. He would then flash that famous grin at me, lift his eyebrow and say “gobble gobble.” He knew how cute he was and that would always make me melt. Funny how those things that so totally annoyed me made me feel so loved and will be so missed.
But Jeff loved people in general. He had willing hands, a quick smile, and a loving heart. He would drop anything to be of service. He enjoyed getting to know people he worked with. He enjoyed listening and learning from them. He never stood in judgment and always made people feel like they mattered. He cared so deeply about their struggles and concerns and wanted to help in any way he could.
He enjoyed playing a good game of Rook, reading the Sunday paper, listening to country music, sunsets on the beach, fantasy type books, and hearing his children’s laughter. Oftentimes when our children’s friend would come, we would retire and lay in bed just listening to the sounds of fun coming from the other room. When the news of his illness got to the children of our hearts, they began coming from all over the country to honor him and say goodbye. The week before he died our home was once again filled with fun and laughter that was so reminiscent of earlier days. One day when all the friends were here, I went in his room and sat on his hospital bed with him and held his hand and said, "Jeff, look what we created. This is the kind of home we always wanted…it’s still here." It was sweet and very healing for all of us.
Jeff loved his family both here and on the other side of the veil. When he was a teenager he wrote to all his grandparents and asked them information about their families. 25 years later, I took that information and plugged it into the internet. Within hours I had information for his family stretching back for generations. At first Jeff was not quite as excited as I was. He told me that when I found his castle, let him know. A few weeks later, I found a particular line that just kept going back, and back, and back. Soon the names started having titles like baron, and Count. Eventually it turned into Princes and Kings of many lands. I was so excited I went and woke him up early in the morning to announce that I had found his castles, so he could now start to be interested in the work I had been doing. Jeff was totally true to his commitment and began learning about researching genealogy. It became one of his greatest loves, not only researching for his own family, but teaching others how to do it as well. He was an incredibly patient teacher, especially with the older generation who needed extra help with the computer.
When Jeff was living between worlds, I would often ask him which of his relatives had come to teach and visit him. I felt their excitement about greeting him and thanking him for all the work he did in their behalf.
Jeff did love many things, but there were some things he did not appreciate. He did not like making messes or cleaning up after other people’s messes. He did not like anyone messing with his hair. He did not like making mistakes, or being pushed into making hasty decisions. He did not like being in the spotlight unless it was his choice which when he did, he was hilarious.
Jeff was extremely sensitive and had very deep feelings. For years, he struggled with some serious issues but kept them very private because he did not want to hurt anyone, especially me. He wanted to desperately to feel like he was good enough, but was always his worst critic. His struggles took him down a long, lonely path. But he was determined to somehow find peace. That determination led to him finally asking for help and allowing the enabling power of the grace of Jesus Christ to heal his heart.
I am a witness to that miracle, many of those who came to help celebrate Jeff’s life are witnesses of the difference a person can make when they let their light shine so brightly. Jeff was so filled with gratitude for the gift of peace that passeth all understanding, that he dedicated the last years of his life to sharing a message of hope. That gratitude showed in everything he did. When anyone came to help him at the hospital, and later on here at home, Jeff always said
"thank you for trying to help me". His very last words were thanks to Charla after she had made him so comfortable.
When Jeff knew that he was probably going to end his time on the earth, he asked that the struggles which he once kept so privately be shared publicly as a message of hope. So together we discussed how to best go about doing that and I began keeping this daily journal on a weblog.
Jeff's greatest delight was in loving and serving others. Even though his spirit and body are now separated, I cannot imagine him wanting to do anything more than what he did on earth. Listen, serve, and love.
His death is sad, but it is not a tragedy for in his passing many people are find truth and healing. His legacy will continue forward as more and more ordinary people choose to follow the same path of courage, faith, and hope.
We will miss you Jeff. We will miss your quirky sense of humor and your playful spirit. We will miss your kind heart and listening ears. We will miss your rolls, but the kids have promised to carry on that legacy. We will miss showing us the strength of your convictions by the way you lived.
Thank you for being just who you are, an ordinary man with an extraordinary heart who showed us all the power of love.
Chris
