January 27 2008 Barney Eulogy

My father is dead. I’m still trying to understand those words and get them to have some semblance of meaning. Although dad had been at the JCA for over five years, wheel-chair bound, incontinent, suffering from dementia, physically he was in relatively good health. So it was a shock when mom called me in Hong Kong early Friday morning Hong Kong time to let me know that he was gone.

My father could be a difficult man. He suffered from bipolar disorder much of his adult life. When his disease was under control he could be pleasant to be around. But when he under the influence of mania he could be irritable, argumentative, irrational and downright mean. When he was depressed he was desperate and hopeless.

And yet…my father played the piano magnificently. He held two degrees; one in pharmacy from St. Louis University, and another in electrical engineering from Washington U. He worked for Westinghouse, McDonald-Douglas, and then for Emerson Electric for many years. He loved chemistry and had fancied himself an inventor and an entrepreneur. He went through a phase where a multitude of inventions in various stages of completion graced our basement. Ultimately this led to what I think was really his proudest accomplishment, the invention of “the gripper” an automotive tool that he invented and successfully marketed and sold, and which won the Motor Trend Best Invention of the Year Award for 19xx.

My father read widely and thought deeply. He liked Carl Sagan’s books a lot. He was interested in Jewish History and religious study, and enjoyed a study group at Traditional Congregation until his dementia progressed too far.

My relationship with my father was complicated. It never completely recovered from the turmoil it underwent during my teenage years. But we tried, we both tried to mend our fences. He loved his grandchildren very much and enjoyed seeing them whenever possible.

In his last years at the JCA, my dad went through another metamorphosis. As his dementia progressed, and then stabilized he became almost sweet. His wants were few; to play bingo, watch TV, read with mom, knit with Ray. It became easier for me to be around him. I’m very grateful that my last visit with him in December was spent at a Friday night service at the JCA with him and mom.

Now life goes on, without Barney. I’m glad he went suddenly and didn’t suffer. I know this will be hard on my mom. They have been married almost 60 years. Caring for my father and visiting him at the JCA has been such a big part of her life these past five years. It will be hard to imagine that he’s still not there, waiting impatiently for her to arrive so that he can read to her.

As time goes on and memories begin to fade, I’m hopeful. As I began to write this images that I hadn’t thought of in years flooded my mind. Skipping rocks on a lake in a park in Maryland. Hiking in the Colorado Rockies. Listening to dad play the piano before dinner when I was very small.  Maybe in death I will be able to appreciate the good things about my dad, and be better at letting the bad things go. I hope so.