There are three words I never wanted to say, even though I knew that someday I would have to say them. Those words are “my Dad was”.
My Dad was a wonderful, sweet, kind, and loving man. Doug Seggelin was devoted to his family. He always put others first. He was my hero, and I loved him dearly. He was inventive, and quite brilliant. His room at home is packed with sheets upon sheets of complex equations and diagrams, carefully inscribed in engineering pencil, and I cannot make heads or tails of any of it.
He had a rare wit, and was always making folks laugh. At any family get together, if people started laughing en-masse, you could almost guarantee that my Dad had a hand in it. He loved his grandchildren, and was always making faces to make them smile or playing with them.
He was utterly committed to his wife of 48 years and his children. If I ever asked my Dad for help, he would help me, no matter what. He took great care of his sister who is bedridden with multiple sclerosis, and his mother who turned 91 this year. He was well liked and respected by the people he worked with. He loved animals, particularly birds, and because of this my mother always called him her “Saint Francis of Assisi“. He was definitely the closest thing to a saint I've ever known.
My Dad was an all-around great guy, and as far as I'm concerned, the embodiment of what most of us only aspire to be.
My Dad suffered a massive aneurism on March 6'th in the early morning hours, and passed away on March 7'th. His wake was held on Sunday March 11'th at the Blanchard Funeral Chapel (which is owned by his neighbor, and where he had worked for the last couple years as an usher and driver.) He was buried on March 12'th. He was 67 years old.
Now there's just my Mom, my Sister, and myself in the family I grew up in. Add to that our spouses and the grandkids. In the end I think this will make us a closer family. My Sister and I need to look out for Mom now, because she needs a lot of help, and all of us are looking out for each other, because heck, we all need help now. Saying goodbye to Dad was the hardest thing any of us have ever done, and the only thing harder will be getting on without him.
Here's an obituary for my Dad.
At the close of my Dad's funeral service, I read a poem that I had written for him back in the early 1990's, before I myself became a Dad. We printed up 200 copies of the poem superimposed over a picture of my Dad, and left them at the back of the church for people who attended the service to take home. The family always goes out first (and me a little early since my brother-in-law and I were pallbearers.) As I sat in the limo I watched dozens and dozens of people walk by with copies of the poem. It was touching, like sharing a little bit of my wonderful Father with everyone who loved him. In the end it looks like about 120 or so were taken. I'm glad I wrote that poem because it gave me a chance to tell my Dad how much I loved him before he was gone.
So now there's nothing left to do but pick up and try to carry on, and always keep my cherished memories of my Dad. I've got to support my family and always try to do right by his example.
I want to thank my family and friends for their kind words and support over the last week. You guys were awesome. Thanks.
Chuck,
This is terrible news. I'm so sorry for you and your family. Melissa and I are thinking of you guys.
Pat
That's really lovely, Chuck. Now I'm very sad that I didn't know your father well. The positive is that he lived, and touched so many people, and you got to have him for a father. He had a positive impact on so many lives. We are always lucky to know a wonderful person, but you got to have a wonderful person as one of your most important role-models, and a person who loved you deeply. I know you're keeping his spirit alive inside of you.
Thanks Maggie. We were overwhelmed by the number of people who came to his wake. 200 people signed the guestbook!
The restaurant where we held the reception required us to agree to pay for 36 meals to reserve the whole reception room, which could seat 65 guests. We got over 90, and the restaurant had to scramble to seat them all. To their credit they did a pretty good job.
My Dad really touched a lot of lives in a positive way. He will be missed.
Thanks Pat, I appreciate the sentiment.
Hey Chuck. I know it's kind of random coming from a guy who knew you from a message board and lives halfway around the world, but my deepest condolences to you & your family. I'm really sorry to hear it.
Being young, I've yet to lose either of my parents who are both pretty dear to me. That said, I've lost a couple grandparents who I was close to, and I can only begin to extrapolate that to how it must feel to lose your father.
Hope everything gets back to normal (or as close as it'll get) soon.
I am so sorry for your loss.
I can vouch for what a great guy Chuck's dad was. Having known Chuck since we were around 7 years old, I got to know Chuck's parents very early on, as we used to play at each other's house often. His Dad was always nice, always. When I got pudding on the ceiling of their kitchen, he was nice (don't ask how I got pudding on the ceiling of their kitchen).
We used to use his garden shed as our “fort”, he was okay with that. We used to use his basement shop as our “hideout”, he was okay with that. Add to all of this the fact that he always made me feel welcome, always talked with me, not to me, and always kept me laughing, and you get the picture of what kind of man he was.
I was telling Chuck at the wake that I've driven by his parent's house at least 100 times in the past 5 years, and I always look at the house and say “I should stop by and say hello”, but I never did. Now I wish I had.
Sorry for rambling on like this, but I'm going to miss him.
Tom
At the wake, when I saw you, all I could think of was the pudding story. It made me laugh inside.
Sorry. The above comment was from me. I didn't realize Chuck had logged in with his username.
Patty
It sounds like he was a really great guy. I don't know a lot of dads who would be cool about seeing pudding on the ceiling.
The world is clearly diminished by your father's passing. But after hearing about the kindness and humor your father brought to the world, I can't help but feel that as long as you're around, so is some of the best of what he was.
BTW, the obit link didn't work for me, but I found it here:
http://www.currentobituary.com/Memory.aspx?Memory_ObitdID=35413
And also I couldn't get to your poem, but I would like to.
Oop – I can get to the poem now. I wonder if it's because I wasn't logged in before.
My sincere condolences
Hi Chuck,
I want to echo James's comment.
Altho I never knew your father, I can see that a big piece of him lives on in you. For that the world is blessed because you are one heck of a guy. As the days pass and the pain subsides(it never goes away I suspect), I know your memories of him will bring you comfort.
Take care bud and let me know if you need anything.
Jay
Oh, Chuck, I'm sorry I haven't been making the rounds recently, and didn't see this sad, sad news. I am so sorry for your loss…
Sorry, that was from me, Jody from Bigdumptruck
Jody, that's okay, really. Thanks for your words of support.
Charles
I am so sorry about your Dad. He reminded me so much of my own father. I had only seen my dad cry once (when Nana died) but I saw his tears at your Dad's wake and burial.
I remember my dad always kept an eye out for your dad at any family function. He always tried to sit with him so they could talk which is a miracle as my dad doesn't talk much as you know..lol..
One thing I regret is the time I missed spending with your father (and you) due to my having agoraphobia.
The last couple of times I saw him was at Aunt Joanie's for Christmas and at Uncle Louie's birthday party He had a big smile on his face and gave me one of those Uncle Doug hugs that he was infamous for.
Kristin, Ma, Dad and I miss your dad very much. He was such a lovely man.
Love – your cousin
Wendy
recently learned of your fathers passing……My family & I would like to pass on our condolences…….