Eulogy James Labossiere
Waiting for a phone call that never comes.
After the diagnosis of his cancer, his father called my sister without failing every day. 7:00, except for holidays and weekends. Then 8:00 am. He wanted to know that he was fine and not worry. It was a very thoughtful and reliable man; You can count on it, and he loved his family.
I was going to call me for years on Sundays. As men, we mastered man’s art for a few words. Therefore, we need a call for a week.
When he was teaching at the university, we would talk about our classes and students. We should also commit and email about meetings. It was a great teacher. Every time I went to him everywhere, we would enter alumni and the faces would turn, so I knew he improved his life.
A teacher became a teacher for him; Like him, I want to help people improve the life of the people. It was good math and even better teaches the ways of understanding students. I could never do that, so I teach philosophy. Math is hard.
We would also talk about our dogs, sharing the stories of crazy things they did that week. We both agreed we had the best dogs in the world. And we were right.
When I was old and I started talking to “day again”, we would remember our adventures together. One of his favorite stories was a shameless number of fish we caught on the ice fishing trip; The flags appeared as they were in the parade and more fish went on. When we went to catch another and left the net and I jumped into the water and started taking his hands. Worked. Really.
My father fished with a pole, and had extensive fishing wisdom, such as “if you can’t catch fish out of the water.” He loved to go to Tim Pond and put my sister and her sister. While he was soaked on his border, he could not catch anything, he shared a little wisdom of fishing, saying: “Therefore, they call fishing and they don’t catch it.”
As a boy, Norwegian was owned by a hunting camp. This dream came true when he built himself and his father. Don Soler helped him add his best friend, and gave him many seasons of deer hunting there. My sister and I would sleep on the loft, he asked him with Beth and his mother did not say children.
Bethek The bear survived to work in Ll Bean. His most important work was the opportunity to buy new Bean flange shirts, even if his closet was already full. But you can never be too much of flhanola.
Before passing, my father would tell me what his wife Carolyn. This was usually Roger’s farm. He loves a place and where he practiced his mission as a major supplier working.
When Nancy Blanchard became part of his life, they would tell me his week together. Every Friday went to the landing of the pepper. Nancy always had the same thing, and that is something that can relate. After finding something good, you stick with it.
Another wisdom that I liked to share my father is “good every day, some are better than others.” Although it is a sad day, it’s good that we are together and think.
I will end up as I did our phone calls: I love you dad.
