MY GREAT DAD

GERALD M. "JERRY" LEON
January 14, 1933 - June 4, 1997

June 4, 1997 was, and always will be the worst day of my life. On that day at 6:40pm, the world lost one of it’s sweetest souls when my wonderful Dad died from lung cancer. He was only 64 years old. He smoked from age 20 and quit when he was 50 but it still killed him. I had been with him just hours before and was rushing back to him when he died. At the time of his death he was semi-comatose and very peaceful. His breaths came 10 seconds apart, then 20, then 40 and then no more. He was gone. His ladyfriend, Linda, was holding one hand and his only sister, my Aunt Elaine was holding the other. Two days later we had a lovely, but simple graveside funeral for him and he was buried next to his parents and younger brother (my Uncle Charles) who died at age 26 in 1972. About 60 people showed up to pay their respects and hearing all the love and respect everyone had for my Dad made it a happy day, yet the saddest day of my life. As the casket was lowered into the ground a part of me went with him, never to be recovered.

I didn't just love this man, I adored him.

I arrived home to start the rest of my life without my best friend, soul mate, trusted advisor and simply the kindest, FUNNIEST, sweetest and most gentle man I will ever know. He never laid a hand on his children, never called us insulting names and always helped us to do our best in life. As we were growing up he would do nothing in his leisure time if it excluded his boys and I cannot recall him ever saying to us, "I don’t have time." He ALWAYS had time for his boys.

Pop loved life and lived to the fullest. He never uttered a derogatory remark about anyone, never uttered a racial or ethnic slur and would never have tolerated that from us. Even if someone was a real jerk, he would always try to find something nice about them. He saw everything through the innocent eyes of a child. His curiosity knew no bounds and he was fascinated by nature and all of God's splendor. He could be happy watching a bee in a flower or listening to the birds sing as the sun rose in the morning. He was a talented artist, painter, calligrapher, carpenter and singer . He would Karaoke on the weekends and get standing ovations from people half his age. The man just never rested. His taste in music ran from Mozart to Gospel, from George Strait to the Rolling Stones but he really loved the old crooners like Tony Bennett, Perry Como and his absolute favorite Johnny Mathis. Of course Pop sang better than all of them!

Oh, and his accents and his jokes! I heard the same jokes over and over throughout the years as he told them to others but they were funny every time. His delivery was masterful! He could tell a joke in any accent on the planet. French, Italian, German, Swedish, Japanese, Chinese... it's didn't matter. He could do Scottish, English, Welsch or Irish and you could easily tell the difference. He was unhappy about having to switch jobs in 1995 after 20 years with the same company but he looked on the bright side and joked, "Well, at least these folks have never heard my material. "If he could make people around him laugh, make them happy then he was happy.

It was less than 3 months from the diagnosis of lung cancer to his death. For the last three weeks of his life, this strapping, healthy man who was jogging and swimming with me only four months earlier, was unable to feed himself, bathe himself or even hold a pen to write a note. One of the hardest things for me to see was that he stopped smiling during this time. This happy, jovial man who smiled and joked nearly every waking moment just never smiled again and it was so painful to see. He slept 20 hours per day and lost 40 pounds. The cancer first took his pride and then his life. But it never touched his dignity and will not take the love I will always have for my BEST FRIEND and the cherished memories of the 35 years that God gave me with him.

Even if I live a hundred years, nothing I ever do or accomplish will make me prouder than simply being this man's son. I am his flesh and blood. Every day I see my father in me. I walk the way he walked, I talk the way he talked, I laugh the way he laughed, I eat the way he ate. I have his eyes and his nose, his ears, his feet and his hands. I pray to someday have his goodness, his honor, his dignity and his principles.

Pop, I don't know if you have an internet connection from Heaven (if you do I'll bet it's a real fast one!) but if you could see this or if I could tell you something now it would be **THANK YOU** .... Thank you for being such a wonderful friend, father and teaching me so many things that will part of me forever. Thank you for teaching me that a butterfly has only "one summer to live." I never hurt another one after that day Pop, and you instilled in me a love and respect for all living things. Thank you for teaching me that a boy should never hit a girl because "she has eggs inside of her belly and if I break them she may never be a mommy." Thank you for never saying a single unkind word to me in the 35 years I spent with you. Not one, not ever. Thank you for taking me out for ice cream when I hit my first ball in Little League, even though I got tagged out at first base. You made me feel like a hero that day and I will never forget it. Thank you for never raising your voice or a hand to me, not one time, not even when I deserved it. Not many kids can say that! And thank you for being the best tooth fairy in the world. I almost cried when I woke up and found a carrot under my pillow until I realized it was hollowed out with a rolled-up dollar bill inside. You were awesome Pop!

The gifts you've given me as a father have shaped my life and made me the man that I am today. You're strong sense of values, of fairness, of right and wrong are all a part of me now. My outlook on life, my sense of humor, my interests and desires.... I see you in all of them Pop. It makes me happy and proud to know that the qualities in you I loved and admired so much are a part of me now. Not a single day has passed since you left that I haven't thought about you every fifteen minutes. It's 5pm as I write this and you have entered my mind 30 times already, maybe more. I always wonder what you would think of this or that. When I am somewhere beautiful or flying above the clouds I feel so sad because I long to share it with you. You are ALWAYS with me Pop.... in my thoughts, in my heart, in my soul and in the very fabric of my life... You are always with me. If I had to turn you into the perfect father I wouldn't have changed a thing, except maybe had you live closer the last few years. You were the kind of dad every man wishes he could have and I am so fortunate because you really were mine.

So be patient Old Man, I'll see you again someday and this time it will be an eternal visit. We'll wash our cars together and maybe get haircuts after lunch. We'll go fishing at Strawbridge Lake or bowling or maybe just take one of those simple drives through the country that meant so much to you. How about an air show? You know we never missed an air show especially if the Blue Angels were there! After dinner we'll sit on the porch and watch the squirrels get ready for bed as the sun sets through the trees. Then we'll go inside and listen to Johnny Mathis and you can once again sing along with your beautiful tenor voice. Words cannot describe how much I long for that moment.

Peace to you Pop, until we meet again.....

More pictures of this GREAT man

Send Me

FastCounter by bCentral