Donny was a good bowler

This probably won’t turn out to be one of my better ideas but I’m sharing my dad’s eulogy here on my blog. A tech blog. My Dad died on August 14th, 2023, about a year and a half after a diagnosis of lung cancer (never smoked a day in his life). He died in his sleep after laying in bed for days anticipating it with my sister and me nearby. He said he had a great life and that he was ready. And I believe him.

There is something freeing about eulogizing a parent. You are the narrator and no one, not even the subject, will interrupt you. It’s your version of past events, not theirs, and regardless of what you think of the after-life, they are likely never going to read it. And now it’s on the Internet where it will live forever (or until I stop paying the annual $37 hosting fee, so probably in 2026).

So here I present my eulogy delivered for my late father, David Shargel, on August 19th.

This is my first eulogy. It’s one I’ve honestly dreaded for a long time and I wasn’t planning on doing this until a few hours ago.  My sister said she was going to do one and I couldn’t let her get away with being the only one of us to do it (especially since I am the favorite).  I did some research and found out that there is no right or wrong way to write one.  So hold my beer. We’ll find out together if that is true.  I’ll keep this short.  The best eulogy was already written by the Cohen Brothers in 1998 and it was a 2-minute movie masterpiece about surfing, bowling, and Pismo Beach.  Dad was not a good bowler though and he didn’t surf so I have to come up with something different.  Dave was a good tennis player, but many of you already knew that.  Most of you probably knew the “retired” Dave who loved tennis, Jesus and gardening and volunteered for what seems like EVERYTHING.  
But years before he retired to Port Angeles, he was a family man in Africa, France, and California. Dave made his kids a priority so I have a lot of great memories of him doing stuff as a family growing up. There was the family stuff that my 10-year-old self wanted nothing to do with though, like the time we dressed up as the Muppets for the town Christmas parade in California.  I know this will be a big shock to many but Dad wanted to be Kermit the Frog.  Riding a bike.  My mom was Miss Piggy and my sister and I were dressed as bellhops. We then had to go out in public walking in a Christmas parade while my dad rode a bike dressed as a giant frog; In front of my friends and complete strangers. I don’t know which was worse.

I have a framed picture of us standing in front of the house in our costumes pre-parade with all the hope and excitement of the wonderful attention we would receive.  My sister and I looked thrilled. It looked more like a still from The Shining probably than the Muppets.  If you want to see it sometime let me know and I’ll dig it up. I had it on my desk for years and my co-workers never asked me about it, I think they were afraid to.
Dad was a great example for me of how to love Jesus without making it weird.  Not as easy as it sounds, right. But he also was a great example for us of how to spend time with our kids and not just shrug it off for the other parent to do.  I think the dads of his generation (not to mention his own) outsourced a lot the raising and interaction to their wives (or ex-wives) and just worked and brought home the paycheck but dad was very involved in our lives. I suspect he made a concerted effort to not repeat his childhood with ours.  I hope my kids would agree his style of parenting carried down to my sister and I (they’re here, please don’t ask them) .
Thank you

Movie still from the Shining

San Luis Obispo Telegram-Tribune, December 7, 1981