Bernard Zane Lee ~ February 15th, 1925 - January 31st, 2019
Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote “To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” If this is the measure of success, my Dad’s success was infinite.
I have written this 1,000 times or more in my head. Generally, in the wee hours of the night. For much of my life this was my biggest fear. Dad dying, not speaking in front of all of you, naturally. While writing this, one of my oldest and dearest friends sent me this message:
‘Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Your father’s life’s work and compassion have spoken volumes for over 90 years. You could literally stand up there and say to all of us, “my father was a sweet and great man who loved us all exactly as we were...” and that on its own would be a complete and perfect tribute.’
Simply put Daddy was a truly great man. He was one of the smartest men I know, in that way fathers are just supposed to know stuff, he had that. He was a bit of an oxymoron – humble yet his initials we on most everything he wore. To say he was devoted to his family is a supreme understatement. When I was a little girl, he worked a lot, like a lot, a lot. His travels for work had him away more than he was home. He very much enjoyed his success and sharing that with his family. From 1989-2011 he took his expanding family on a family vacation in the summers from Hilton Head, Crested Butte, Whitefish Montana, Sedona and other magnificent places - 22 years of family vacations together. Experiences my boys and nieces and nephew grew up on, and memories I will treasure forever. Daddy was never happier than he was when he was around his family, and his joy being around his grand-kids and great grandkids lit him up like nothing else.
It’s no secret that I was a Daddy’s girl. My sisters, 13 and 14 years older than me, grew up with the same father but a way different Dad. And, while there is no doubt that he loved and adored us all, he was just in a different place in his life when I came along. I never wondered where I stood in that man’s eyes or heart. I knew who I was to him, always. He loved to spoil me, loved to say ‘yes’, and hated to say no. He was my favorite Facebook fan sweetly commenting on many of my Self-Love Coaching videos and posts. There are few things cuter in this world than that 90+ year old man navigating his way around Faceboob, find me later if you want to hear that’s a story, to comment and support my life’s work.
Who Daddy was to me was nothing short of my life-line, my superhero, and often times my savior? His love for me transferred and magnified times infinity in his love for my boys. Beginning of the school year haircuts, and shoe shopping; baseball games, band concerts, plays, trips to the Natural Museum of Science and the Chocolate bar, solid advice given about ‘only getting one chance to make a first impression’, mailing the comics to Gavin for years and years up to this week, and on and on and on. My sweet Daddy was the absolute best PawPaw and, I suspect to many, the ultimate measure of a man – a true example of who a great man is and how a great man behaves. Of all of the many, many gifts he gave me in my 52 years, who he was to and for my boys was by far and away the tippy top best gift of them all.
There is just no way to succinctly share with you who my Daddy was in this world, much less to me. He touched so many people all over the world. Anytime I traveled, anywhere I went in the world, my sweet Daddy handed me a name and a phone number of someone he knew that would be there for me if I needed anything. His friendships were strong and spanned decades. He was constant as the sun.
I am who I am because I was his daughter. I knew I was loved because he was my father, and I there is no more important thing to know in this world than that.
I love you Daddy. You are with me always, in my every breath, in every beat of my heart.
