“To change lives one person at a time”

To Mitchell Barsky, My Daddy-O

Everything I am is all because of you. Your spirit lives on within me “every second and every moment”. I want my family, friends and clients to know you taught me so many marketing and business strategies that I am forever grateful to you. You are my hero.

I carry on your dream to help others through your laughter and eternal optimism that I honor you on father’s day, your birthday and on December 31 of every year as a tribute to you that I want to inspire others to begin each new year with hope and to make it a better year personally and financially so each person can have more free time to do what really matters in life. 

Daddy’s Eulogy 12-31-2006
1913-2006

I want to thank everyone here who came to celebrate my Dad’s life; many of you came quite a distance. I am very appreciative from the bottom of my heart.

As I was thinking about what to say about my incredible ninety-three (93) year old dad who I always called daddy my entire life, and in the last two years I called him Daddy-O to help him distinguish me from his other daughters as daddy suffered with Alzheimer’s disease.

I could not help but think my Daddy would have loved being the center of attention. Even though we knew it would be a small gathering of our closest friends, we picked this large chapel to hold the service because we knew Daddy would have loved to be in a large room. He loved to live life in a grandiose way even when he had pennies in his pocket.

Today I will try to tell you how much my daddy meant to me and pay tribute to his life. Daddy’s life was very hard. He lived through the depression and World War II. He bought his first car for $600 and began his career as a life insurance salesman walking the streets knocking door to door to make his insurance collections.

Daddy was robbed and hit over the head so many times that in his early 20’s he began what would be a life long pursuit of working in the furniture industry. He worked for several employers selling used furniture when he opened his first tiny store at Market & Ludlow streets.

His entrepreneurial spirit was so strong that he converted the Cross Keys movie theatre into a furniture store by ripping out all the chairs and movie equipment. My Daddy had a vision.

My Daddy always found humor in dealing with his furniture customers. And if you weren’t a customer sooner or later he was going to try to sell you a mattress or ask you an inappropriate personal question or make fun of you in a light-hearted manner. His daughter would then abruptly interrupt him and say, “Stop it Daddy”. He didn’t listen. He was the consummate salesman and entertainer with a brilliant business mind. I see commercials today of how furniture is sold and as I watch them I see marketing techniques that Daddy used sixty (60) years ago.

One of his greatest personality traits was that he never complained about anything. He would go to work even in the snowy days six days a week sometimes until 11pm at night. He was absolutely fearless.

As the years passed and the neighborhood changed he was held up three times at gun point. I was in my first year of law school and I pleaded with him to get a dog or some form of protection but he refused looking at me with those big blue eyes stating, “I am fine dear, stop worrying”.

I used to visit him at his furniture store many times as a young teenager and then later as an adult. The store had no heat because he couldn’t afford it while he waited with a glimmer of hope as each person walked in the door. Nothing stopped him from trying to support his family.

I was scared. I would leave my purse in my car afraid to carry it with me because of the location of the store but when I walked into the small cold store I was transformed as I marveled at how my Daddy who was in all his glory would be joking around with the customers seemingly unaware of his meager surroundings. His thoughts were centered on making the sale to support his family.

I would sit for hours just listening to how hard he tried to make a sale because he refused to let a customer walk out the door even if he only made a $10.00 profit. And then after the sale, I would say to myself “I can’t believe he just asked that person how they felt about President George Bush”. My Daddy wouldn’t just make the sale he had to know  the entire intimate details about the person.

At eighty (80) years old he would get a kid like grimace when the store was full of customers and walk up and down the stairs yelling, “Wait a minute, don’t leave the store we have a great sale today. I will be right with you.”

He never told people he was the owner of the store he was just the salesman but his three daughters on any given day were either running for political office, representing a famous felon or high-profile celebrity in the news and his daughter Harriet was head of state. His children were his pride and joy.

All his aspirations and hopes were for us. Daddy was always my #1 raving fan. He taught me to believe that anything is possible and to never stop trying. In the last two years while we were alone holding each other in the dark, I promised him I would finish the dream he tried relentlessly to accomplish in his lifetime.

Daddy was devilishly handsome acting much younger than his age and always lying about his age by at least fifteen years. Which reminds me of a funny story of my daddy’s attempt at matchmaking for me? He was determined to find a suitable mate for his daughter.

One day when I was in my 30’s as I was visiting him at his store as I watched my Daddy in awe, a thirty (30) something year old customer walked in the door and he said, “I have a beautiful twenty-two (22) year old daughter who has a powerful job with the CIA. I would like to fix you up with her. The gentleman graciously replied, “Thank you Sir but I only date women over thirty-five (35) years old. I laughed as I pretended to be the salesperson in the store with him.

My Daddy taught me to have a sense of humor about everything. When I would complain to him about my monthly cramps he replied, “Honey you seem to get your period every week” and I laughed as I realized the lesson he was teaching me and I never complained again about my cramps at least to him.

Daddy never thought of himself as an inspiration to us. I am sure he never considered that he was an example to us. Yet Dad in his dying taught me how to live.

He died slowly and painfully enduring twenty-four (24) hospitalizations which included heart attacks, congestive heart failure, phenomena, and renal failure. He took over twenty-five (25) medications but rarely complained of pain. Countless times I would lie in his bed with him for hours trying to figure out how to help him. I would feel so helpless because he never complained of pain.

ss Towards his last few days as he grimaced in pain like he had done so many times before, I would scream out of frustration, “Daddy are you in pain?” He was barely able to utter a reply but he would get out the words, “No” in answer to my question. He was always not afraid because he uttered so many times to me, “Honey, tomorrow will be a better day”.

Few of us know how we would cope with a lingering illness. Most of us if we were honest, would hope for a quick death instead of going through what he did.

Daddy may not have seemed the kind of which martyrs were made but he suffered like a martyr and in doing so showed me exactly what kind of person he was.

He had immense courage and faced his long drawn out illness with dignity. It didn’t change the person he was, it just added stature. Today, though let us remember Daddy before his illness.

Let us remember him as the kind, gentle, humorous person he was. Today let us think of his witty sense of humor and his veracious interest in world affairs, politics, history and his desire to entertain a crowd. He many times would get up on stage with the entertainers and become part of the show.

Daddy had a presence. The minute he walked in a room nobody would say he was the silent type. He was full of energy and life. He brought those attributes into our lives. You never knew what he was going to do next with a twinkle in his eyes.

Today many of you who mourn him come because you remember that happy man who shared part of your life with you. He lived life to the full. He had no inhibitions about asking someone to do something even if he hadn’t seen them in twenty (20) years.

Today as we all mourn his loss and I am profoundly sad, daddy would not have wanted us to be sad. He would have wanted us to crack a joke and make a fresh start. Above all Daddy taught me courage.

Apart from being such a wonderful Daddy he was also a great friend to me in my adult life. As I became older I often sought his advice and guidance. I was able to talk to him about anything. As a child I did not understand the choices he made.

As an adult I came to understand his hopes and dreams. I enjoyed getting to know my Dad as the man he was and not simply as my Dad.

I am very proud to say that he is my Dad. The greatest gift he gave me is the gift of love and hope with the dream that anything is possible.

Everyone here knows my story is told through the lenses of a camera. I know this is untraditional for a Eulogy but I would like to pass around photos of my Daddy and ask you to hold them in your hands and close to your heart and say goodbye to my Daddy as these are the images I want you to remember of my Daddy, the man who I love so much and will be with me forever.

I told my Daddy thousands of times as I lay in bed with him over the last two years while he struggled to fight the battle of his life, “Daddy-O we are together every minute and every second don’t forget that”. I would make Daddy-O repeat those words with me as I kissed him hello and as I said good-night each night. Sometimes I would say “Daddy-O remember our words” and when I started the sentence he would finish it with me, “Yes dear, every minute, every second”.

And when he could no longer say the words back to me I would whisper in his ears, “I am so proud of you, Daddy’s little girl loves you so much”.