Eulogy - I

On behalf of Duane’s family and friends I would like to thank you for being here to celebrate his life.

Duane Sanford Edmonds was born August 21st, 1931, the oldest of identical twins.

It is his death which brings us together today. The death of a great man, our Dad, our husband, our relative and our friend. But it's not of death that I want to talk about today. While good men die, their contributions do not. I have chosen to talk about living and giving.

God is here with us today, and while God is not here to take away our pain and suffering, He is here to fill us with His presence.

We are gathered here in the presence of Dad’s family and his friends and God to say that here was a life that demands notice. A life that exemplified kindness. A life that illustrated the Golden Rule, “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” A life that inspired emulation. A life that provided light for others' lives. He was living proof of just how fine (good) a person can be.

"A successful man," observed Albert Einstein, "is he who receives a great deal from his fellowmen, usually incomparably more than corresponds to his service to them. The value of a man, however, should be seen in what he gives and not in what he is able to receive."

The Apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans declared, "Every man must give an account of himself to God." Today I give this account before God, his family and his friends.

In one word, Dad was a man who gave.

He gave us encouragement. I've never known a decision so heavy, a deadline so pressing; a crisis so confusing that Dad could not put a spring in my step – sometimes because of a swat. He had a way of putting things in perspective that made the situation bearable, if not actually beneficial. As his sons, my brother and I know this because we had many such times.

Someone has said that a good way to judge a man is to see which he would take if given a choice—a light load or a strong back. Through no choice of his own, Dad's situation required a strong back. He grew up during the depression. He lost his father as a young man. He lost his mother, a brother and his sister. And along the way, through his own experience and heartaches, he developed a soft shoulder and an encouraging handshake.

A friend (Raven) he met at while in treatments in Phoenix, said “every day when I would ask him ‘How ya doin' today Duane?’ he would always reply "WELL I'VE NEVER HAD A BAD DAY AND THATS NOT GOING TO START NOW.”

As a Christian I have always envisioned "mission" work as being something you do "overseas." Many if not most of us cannot go on such a mission. Seldom do we see the mission right outside these doors - in our neighborhood, and our community. My father did. He made his mission this community and this state.

He gave us time. He attended meetings just to offer emotional support when we needed it. When any organization needed someone to step in – he always volunteered; Boy Scouts, Boys and Girls Club, school district levy elections (in WA), where to put the community pool, assisting with candidates running for election, fundraising for numerous organizations, for scholarships for kids, Bingo, the American Legion, the school board as member and president, and the state board of education as member and chairman, the National Association of School Board Education, the Northwest College Foundation, the Korean War Veterans Memorial, driving the church van to get people to services, and many other committees.

He phoned us at home to ask about our sick parents or children or spouses; he mowed our lawns or dropped off trout, elk or deer, and an occasional onion or hot pepper or two. He stopped by our homes to visit; at our places of work or on the streets to chat. He always took a few minutes or a few hours to become a sounding board for plans and decisions. Dad helped us get our computers up and running or helped us with our taxes.

He never once asked us to devote time and energy to something where he did not make an equal, if not greater, commitment. Dad had great personal values and then upheld them in every situation—without compromise even when they might cost him.

He led. A short statement, but very long on meaning. Although there are many definitions of leadership, Dad led in such a way that he exemplified leadership rather than defined it. And as other leaders do by definition, he inspired. Nothing was quite as embarrassing as watching him do something you assured him could not be done. We all wanted to work as he worked – and sometimes that was hard to do. I often wanted to take a break but he wanted to keep going until the job was done. It was simply his nature.

Dad was a storyteller. Whether it was a story of Jack Crandall, Rex Posten, or Ike Dishpan driving stage coach to Yellowstone, and discovering gold – or the many stories and antics of his youth – and believe me – there were many; or about his service to his nation – of which he was so proud; or the stories of others he recalled so clearly. All were interesting and entertaining – and he reminded me at Thanksgiving, even with his brain racked with cancer, that his memory was better than some of you here today – and he did it with a smile.

He gave us laughter and he loved to laugh. He liked to tell jokes, but he loved to send them in email even more. He never forwarded an email which did not touch him, from the funny stories, to the emotional, heartfelt ones.

He trusted others and he himself could be trusted. Until the day of his death, he never broke a promise when it was within his control to keep it.

Adlai Stevenson once commented about a man and his contribution: "It is not the years in a life that counts; it's the life in the years." Dad lived.

Dad did what had to been done. He did what others could not.

Yes, my Dad, Duane, gave us encouragement, time, laughter and stories. Only the time is gone. The encouragement, laughter and stories will remain.

As a dedicated Christian, his eternal home is with God. When God finally got to see our dad on Christmas Day, God said – “This is my finest creation. This is how I wanted you to live your life.” We will miss him.

My family asks that each of you continue his work – by smiling at someone who needs a smile, by laughing, by listening to someone who needs to heard, by hugging someone who needs a hug, by living, by doing what you can do.

Anyone can make a difference. Everyone should try.

-Craig