Franco
God
I wrote this and read this at his first service, currently enroute to Va Beach to have a 2nd service and inter him with my mom.
Today we are here to say goodbye to my father, William Meyers. It is a hard thing to do, saying goodbye to some one that touched your life in so many ways. But we should celebrate his life, not just mourn his passing. That is what Pop would want. Pop has joined those that have passed before him. We have gathered again, as a family, to make sure that he always is alive in our hearts.
Pop had a very interesting life. He was born in a small town in Pennsylvania, the oldest of five children. Pop was a life long Yankees fan, which started with train rides to New York where he saw Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Joe DiMaggio play his favorite game. And pop was quite a good ball player. He was a pitcher on his high school team with a decent fast ball, a good curve ball and really good control. After pop graduated from high school he worked in a steel mill until he decided he would pursue his dream of joining the Navy. One day while he on his way to work at the steel mill, he made up his mind. He pitched his lunch pail over a fence and hitch hiked to Philadelphia in search of the Navy Recruiter. He joined July of 1942, just months after Pearl Harbor and he served with naval combat forces in the Pacific from 1943 till the end of the war.
After the war pop was stationed in Philadelphia, and while serving as the best man for one of his shipmates, he met the love of his life, Jo, my mother. Pop looked like Bing Crosby in Navy dress blues highlighting his blue eyes and my mother was a beautiful brunet with big brown eyes. They were married just a few months later. The following year they had their first of three children. And like a typical Navy family, we moved from duty station to duty station, finally settling down and making our home in Virginia. Pop retired after 30 years in the Navy and after that, he retired from Civil Service. Mom and pop were founding members of their Parish in Virginia Beach. Pop was involved in the men’s club and the Knight of Columbus, finally becoming a Fourth Degree Knight. Pop was always the first to arrive when there was an event, meeting or job to do, and the last to leave.
My father was a quiet man. My mother on the other hand was a bit harder to miss. Pop loved that about mom, and he was often the center of her attention. He may have seemed gruff, but there was no hiding the fact that he loved that attention. Their later years were their best years. They had survived all the ups and downs, and grew closer and closer. They were together until my mother passed away just a few months before their 50th wedding anniversary. That shook my father to his foundation. Many people would have fallen to pieces, but not my dad. His faith grew deeper, his devotion to my mother never wavered. He carried on everyday knowing that one day he would again be with Jo.
My wife, Robin, and I were fortunate to be able to spend the last 12 years with my father. We learned many things during that time. We learned about caring for one another. We learned about how important family is. We learned that faith is the cornerstone. We learned about trust and compassion. We learned to humbly give from the heart. We learned that love is strong and true.
Five years ago we moved from Virginia to Florida. We had visited my brother Bill and his family during a vacation, and we, as a family became excited about the prospect of bringing the families together in one place. Eventually, pops health began to fail and we pulled together as a family. In pops last hours we were all together, in pops bedroom. He was at peace with the world, knowing that Jo, Jimmy, Moe, Brudsy, and the others that passed before him were waiting for him in heaven. Pop knew that we were going to be alright after he left. He gently passed that evening while we were gathered together. So today I ask you to celebrate his life and keep Pop, Bill, Murph, Uncle Murph, grandpop, great grandpop, whatever name you knew him by, alive in all our hearts.
William F. Meyers Jr.
Eulogy
Pop had a very interesting life. He was born in a small town in Pennsylvania, the oldest of five children. Pop was a life long Yankees fan, which started with train rides to New York where he saw Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Joe DiMaggio play his favorite game. And pop was quite a good ball player. He was a pitcher on his high school team with a decent fast ball, a good curve ball and really good control. After pop graduated from high school he worked in a steel mill until he decided he would pursue his dream of joining the Navy. One day while he on his way to work at the steel mill, he made up his mind. He pitched his lunch pail over a fence and hitch hiked to Philadelphia in search of the Navy Recruiter. He joined July of 1942, just months after Pearl Harbor and he served with naval combat forces in the Pacific from 1943 till the end of the war.
After the war pop was stationed in Philadelphia, and while serving as the best man for one of his shipmates, he met the love of his life, Jo, my mother. Pop looked like Bing Crosby in Navy dress blues highlighting his blue eyes and my mother was a beautiful brunet with big brown eyes. They were married just a few months later. The following year they had their first of three children. And like a typical Navy family, we moved from duty station to duty station, finally settling down and making our home in Virginia. Pop retired after 30 years in the Navy and after that, he retired from Civil Service. Mom and pop were founding members of their Parish in Virginia Beach. Pop was involved in the men’s club and the Knight of Columbus, finally becoming a Fourth Degree Knight. Pop was always the first to arrive when there was an event, meeting or job to do, and the last to leave.
My father was a quiet man. My mother on the other hand was a bit harder to miss. Pop loved that about mom, and he was often the center of her attention. He may have seemed gruff, but there was no hiding the fact that he loved that attention. Their later years were their best years. They had survived all the ups and downs, and grew closer and closer. They were together until my mother passed away just a few months before their 50th wedding anniversary. That shook my father to his foundation. Many people would have fallen to pieces, but not my dad. His faith grew deeper, his devotion to my mother never wavered. He carried on everyday knowing that one day he would again be with Jo.
My wife, Robin, and I were fortunate to be able to spend the last 12 years with my father. We learned many things during that time. We learned about caring for one another. We learned about how important family is. We learned that faith is the cornerstone. We learned about trust and compassion. We learned to humbly give from the heart. We learned that love is strong and true.
Five years ago we moved from Virginia to Florida. We had visited my brother Bill and his family during a vacation, and we, as a family became excited about the prospect of bringing the families together in one place. Eventually, pops health began to fail and we pulled together as a family. In pops last hours we were all together, in pops bedroom. He was at peace with the world, knowing that Jo, Jimmy, Moe, Brudsy, and the others that passed before him were waiting for him in heaven. Pop knew that we were going to be alright after he left. He gently passed that evening while we were gathered together. So today I ask you to celebrate his life and keep Pop, Bill, Murph, Uncle Murph, grandpop, great grandpop, whatever name you knew him by, alive in all our hearts.
a toast to pops
