Sunday we laid Dad to rest right next to Mom. It was a cold, but sunny day. The service was beautiful and Dad would have been pleased to see his friends and family in attendance. We know because of the cold weather and the holidays, many who would have liked to attend could not. Therefore, I am sharing the Eulogy with you all. If you would like to watch the whole service you can do so here.

My Section of the Eulogy

I never imagined we’d all be back in this place again so soon, and on the fourth Sunday in Advent no less. Again, we planned this service according to when everyone could make it, not realizing it was the Love Sunday. So appropriate. I think Mom and Dad were giving us a wink. The suddenness of this day is a testimony to the truth that we just never know what tomorrow holds. Life is fragile and fleeting…so we must live as if every day is our last. Dad always said he would go fast, like he did everything in life, a blast of hurry. Patience was not his strong suit. And in the end, he got his wish to go while peacefully sleeping.

In those last couple of days, I told him, “You have been a great dad, and great grandpa, and a great great grandpa, but you are also a great man…and I am about to tell everyone how great you are.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Like oh brother…but I think there was a smile under that mask. Plus, he doesn’t really have a choice. He wouldn’t want accolades, because that was not his way, but today he doesn’t get to be quietly in the background because we are here to celebrate this man whom we all loved so much. He was our refuge, our safe harbor, our secure place. He kept us under his protective wings…always.

When I say his name…Mike Hunter…immediately I think of his sense of humor. He was mischievous, and light-hearted. A big kid and a character. His storytelling was legendary. The story of shooting one of his many cousins out of a tree with a BB gun was hilarious in his telling. As punishment, he was dressed like a girl and tied to the porch, which he did not like AT ALL. He and his cousin Jimmy, could tell stories upon stories of their childhood pranks.

He had everyone doubled over with his story of how he felt a “cool breeze” on his head after a snow skiing tumble. This cool breeze caused him to realize he lost his hat (with his hair inside it) on the ski slope, and it was at the top of the hill and he was at the bottom.

One of my favorite stories of he and I, was while we were sledding down the steep driveway in Clayton when I was a kid, and I was on his back. So the story goes, I was yelling, “Faster daddy, faster!” but he was dragging toes, digging them in as hard as possible to slow us down…with ice flying in his face and tears sliding horizontally out of his eyes because of the speed. The way he told it I was driving him and he was giving it his everything to slow down. I am still not so sure it wasn’t the other way around.

Then there was the Air Force story about landing a plane in a pasture to go ask directions at a gas station. And how his instructor asked him why his fuel was low upon his return, and Dad called, “Headwinds” over his shoulder as he walked away.

Or the story of how he drove all the way to Miami with his friends, eating oranges for food from the orchards along the way, just to get his ID bracelet from his grandmother’s house to give to Mom. He put it in an envelope and mailed it to her. No note. No words of love. Just an envelope with a bracelet in it as his declaration that he wanted her to be his steady girl. Even in telling me that story recently, he laughed at his own anxiety and naïve 16-year-old school boy ways. With that grand gesture, he won 13-year-old Martha’s heart even without words. His actions always spoke louder than his words.

His silly antics were the life of the party with the grandkids. I know all nine of them could fill this room with laughter at his silliness with them. From Grandkid Olympics relay races, to mule rides, to his famous grandpa dance. He was playful…continuously. Even in his last few days, his eyes expressed laughter with each of them as they called in to talk with him one more time. Shaking his head at bad football plays. Wide eyed when each new person arrived at the hospital. Wiggling his eye brows to show his feelings. He was larger than life and his love of life and of us was the reason.

Dad worked hard for our family and his business accomplishments were many. He was a leader was who good at his job. He was known for his integrity. His type A personality and drive, about drove all of us crazy at points, but it is what made him excellent in running his highway contracting businesses. He liked to be in control of decisions. Once he found the best way to do something he stuck with it, never budging. We called him a bulldog…not like the UGA kind mind you, he was an Auburn War Eagle to the end…more like the latch-on-and-never-let-go kind. Tenacious. Stubborn. Never let up until the job is done. These leadership skills followed him from the military, to business, to every church committee, community organization, and board on which he served.

This included the building committee of each church he was a part of, including this one! I am sure contractors trembled when he showed up to supervise, because he noticed every detail, right or wrong, and he didn’t let things go until they were complete. We even hesitated to tell him things, like I have to get new tires, because he would continue to call every day until it was done.

Though, if I needed to sic a bulldog on say, an insurance company when I had cancer, he was the one to call. In my own career as a teacher, I became known as a bulldog when advocating for kids who struggled to learn. Melinda, as a nurse practitioner, is known the same way when it comes to advocating for her patients. He passed that spirit down to us all. Loyalty. Never giving up. Sticking to a task. Caring for others. All in his quiet way. Never loudly up front. Always leading from the back. A servant of others in every way…

Including his gift of giving. Time. Finances. And energy, which seemed never-ending like the energizer bunny. If we had all day, I would tell you of the notes we have received from those to whom he gave. “God sent your parents as angels just when we needed help.” “Your dad gave to our mission and it helped so many people.” On and on. He wanted to use his good fortune to help others. He did so in many anonymous ways. He would be rolling his eyes at me for telling this part. He was a volunteer and a donor. He was a giver.

One of the gifts he gave all of us here, was his eye for seeing God in nature. His photographs were his acts of worship. His images, his demonstration of God’s attention to the details of our world. He took all of us through the woods, creeks, waterfalls, and to the sea. He showed us the tiniest of details, like the pedals of a tiny flower to the grandeur of an ocean sunset. He walked us into his pictures so we could really see what God looks like. Dad, the staunch and successful business man, was not all business. He was a man of faith with a heart of gold. He genuinely expressed his faith through works. Through pictures. Through kindness. Through acts of service. Through love. I am glad he first started going to church, as a boy, to get to know Mom but then stayed around to get to know God, too. God knew how to get his attention, and then how to keep it by showing him the beauty of creation.

His tender heart made him want to fix everything. Always problem solving and thinking five steps ahead. His hardest test in life was when Mom got sick and he couldn’t fix it for her. It broke him to pieces. If he saw a need, his compassion moved him to take care of it. He was forever kind. He cared for his community, and also for his kids and grandkids. Need a washer and dryer for your new house? He gave it. And not just any washer and dryer…only the best. Need the cemetery cleaned up? He made it happen. Need money to rebuild after a storm? He donated it. Need a place to live? He provided it. Need some classes to pursue pottery? He signed us up. Need to learn about photography? He took you and taught you. Need to publish a book, go to school, start a business, build a church, fund an art center, build a road, install highway signs, renovate your house, take care of yourself?  He would support you in whatever way he could. His heart was as big as the sky.

But of all his many qualities and character traits, I think the biggest was the way he loved. His and Mom’s great love was the shade in which all of us rested. It was the greatest gift of all, and they gave the overflow to us. It was beautiful. He was devoted to our family. He was a man of action, not as much words. He preferred to show you his love in tangible ways. He was our protector. Our rock.

When my husband, Bill, had his near-fatal car accident, Dad was away on business. He arrived as soon as he could, a day or so after, to the hospital. I came out of the ICU and there he was, arms open for me. Like a bird sheltering me under his wings, I let him hold me while I poured tears upon his chest. From that day forward, he quietly, behind the scenes, protected and supported me. In all ways, he was my refuge and safe harbor in the storm. He was that for all of us. Always making us feel secure. Cared for and safe. When he was around, the hardships of life faded away. He showed you that you were valuable and wanted. He had a way of making you feel as if you were going to be okay, no matter what because…he would make sure of it.

To me, that is the closest thing to unconditional love I have experienced. He modeled God rather than preaching about him. He loved big. If Mom was a minister of place, Dad was one of action. His deeds and care were practical. Tangible. Always available. Always offering a secure and safe place to land for anyone with whom he came into contact. Under his wings…we found refuge. Now he soars like an eagle to watch over us. A War Eagle.

Melinda’s Section of the Eulogy

Michelle writes beautiful words, that move us as she speaks; all heart felt descriptions of Dad. I think she got that gift from Mom. I am the practical one. short, sweet and to the point, but still heart felt; a gift I got from Dad.

So, today I will close with an attempt to summarize our Dad:

• Servant of God
• Leader
• Protector
• Fixer
• Story teller
• Lover of nature
• Teacher of photography
• Playful Gpa
• Safe Harbor
• Steward of Unwavering love for mom and each of us

Our family is forever changed, but Dad taught us well. We will move forward together, supporting each other with unwavering love that has been modeled for us our entire lives.

When the weight of grief is coming down on you, RUN to the heavenly Father who longs to be your comfort. Let Him allow you to rest under His wings. Let Him renew your strength to soar on wings as eagles and with His guidance, set your eyes on the path forward. Because, in this moment, that is what our earthy Father/Gpa would want us all to do!