The Grace of Boogs

Happy Birthday Boogs!  Today would have been the 67^th birthday of my hero and dearest mentor.  I know he is in Heaven and today’s post will be a eulogy transcript from his Memorial service last Fall.

Eulogy for Dick Mette: The Grace of Boogs

 Given September 12, 2010 by Brad Davis

At Trinity Episcopal Church in Escondido, CA

It was a day like any other day; filled with those events which alter and eliminate our time.  It was the late 80’s and Dick Mette had just lost a ton of weight.  Me and Jon, and our other best friend, Dave Bender, were sitting in the back seat of the Camry joining Dick & Leslie on an errand to the Goodwill to donate most of Dick’s wardrobe because it no longer fit.

For some reason our friend Dave, who is infamous for opening his mouth and inserting his foot, says: “Good thing you lost all that weight Mr. Mette, you were beginning to look like Boogaloo Fats”.

We had no idea what this meant, but to our very mature teenage selves, it was hilarious.  So began the nickname of Boogaloo, and eventually, just Boogs.  For obvious reasons it was easier for us teenage boys to call him Boogs instead of Dick—at least to his face. We were very mature.

It was Boogs who became my hero, a father figure, and taught & demonstrated Christ’s grace to me—showing me that a Father loves his son always.  NO MATTER WHAT! 

To me, he was a golden lampstand.  The first person to tell me that the apocalyptic, end-of-times Book of Revelation is actually a book of hope.  Boogs’ spent a lot of time reading and studying the Book of Revelation.  I’d like to read a small passage from this book to help me explain some of my thoughts, and why he was a lampstand in my life:

“I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me.  And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone “like a son of man”.  His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire.  His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters.  In his right hand he held seven stars, and out of his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword.  His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance.  When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead.  Then he placed his right hand on me and said:  “Do not be afraid.  I am the First and the Last.  I am the Living One; I was dead and behold I am alive forever and ever!  And I hold the keys of death and Hades…The mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand and of the seven golden lampstands is this:  The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.” –Revelation 1: 12-18, 20 (NIV)

My biological father died when I was 4-years old.  He was shot and killed by a police officer during a robbery and attempted extortion.  My mom was left behind with 2 kids.  She remarried and had a 3^rd son, but eventually divorced and never left her path of self-destruction. As the oldest child, I had a clear view of my mom’s battle with hard drug use, alcoholism, and chronic poverty. It wasn’t a good life.

It is out of this situation that God moved us across the street from All Saints’ Episcopal Church.  Where he introduced me to a plethora of loving families, including my personal heroes: The Mette Family.

Circumstances made it so that I eventually moved in with the Mette’s during high school and they became my legal Guardians.  It is here that the entire Mette family taught me true grace. 

Boogs’ told me early on that grace could be easily understood by the acronym:  G.R.A.C.E -- Gifts Received At Christ’s Expense.  But, more than that, grace was demonstrated and lived out in front of me in meaningful and life-changing ways.  Even though I was just one of Jon’s poor friends from the ghetto, with a unique sense of humor (and unique digestive system) with a vastly different and undeserving background, they would take me in and love me—NO MATTER WHAT!

·         If I crashed the hard drive on the computer in the middle of someone’s homework assignment.  They loved me, NO MATTER WHAT

·         If I ate all the ice cream and put a 99.5% empty carton back in the fridge.  And forgot to tell Leslie to buy more. They loved me, NO MATTER WHAT

·         If I stayed out past my curfew, waaaay past my curfew, and left them with an empty tank of gas to boot.  They loved me, NO MATTER WHAT

·         If I offered free advice and marriage counseling, in all my wisdom and experience, they humbly rejected my offer, and still loved me, NO MATTER WHAT

·         If I came home from College with $10,000 in debt and gave all of the Collection Agencies their name and address to call 5 times a night, in the middle of dinner.  They still loved me, NO MATTER WHAT

·         If I shook up a can of orange soda, bit into the side of the can, and sprayed it all over their best friend’s cabin, they still loved me, NO MATTER WHAT

I made a lot of decisions that resembled the south end of a north bound donkey—and still do.  The Mette’s did not always like what I did, but they always, always loved me, NO MATTER WHAT.  This, I have learned, is the same kind of love that God has for us.

It is because of this love that, to me, the Mette Family was the church, and Boogs, as the head of that family, was head of this church, and I was a welcome member.  And the Book of Revelation tells us that the church is like a golden lampstand—Boogs, you shone the brightest!

Revelation tells us this world will have calamity, war, strife, tribulation, and evil walks this Earth—but we find our hope in knowing that the story ends with God being victorious.  HE WINS! 

Amen?

Boogs, you struggled here on this earth.  Especially physically, whether with your weight and food addiction, snoring and sleep apnea, pulmonary embolism, and the awful cancer for the last 4 years.  You were tried and tested.  But you still held fast to your Faith and your Hope.  YOU WON!  I pray that I can have that kind of strength.

Thank you for sharing your journey with us.  Your soul is now free. 

Though you are no longer a lampstand here on this earth or a legal guardian to me, you are a guardian Angel to all of us, a star held in the hand of your Father in Heaven.  Thank you for shining in our lives, for this brief moment—showing us grace, showing us hope.  We will miss you and love you and hold on to your memory and the hope that we will see you again one day—NO MATTER WHAT! 

Amen.

"Nomp!"

“Nomp Da-Da, Nomp!”

I knew what she was saying, and there was nothing I could do but obey her command.  She looked at me with such earnest expectation and unconditional love that I hardly had a choice in the matter.  I “nomped”.

Saturday was my daughter’s 3^rd birthday.  Awww, my precious “Baby Bear” is three!  She is a girl after my own heart, so full of life, love and laughter that it just makes me want to cry with joy sometimes.  Which helps wash away the memories of worry, prayer, frustration and stress my wife and I  have suffered over our daughter’s ear infections, speech delays, physical challenges, hypo-sensory disorder and the overall general concern one has when raising a child.

She breaks my heart and fills it back again with so much love every single day.  She was such a quiet and un-responsive baby that I had doubts and worries that I would ever love her as much as my son, her older brother—it is painful to write that down—in fact, I have never expressed that thought in any form before now.  What a horrible thing to say.  Not to mention the tacit guilt I suffer from ever attempting to compare or contrast my love for the two.  I suppose it’s a natural thing to do and of course I am amazed at how much love I have to give each of them.  It’s true what they say, that you can never run out.  I love both my kids.

                As a stay-at-home mom, my wife gets to experience ALL the highs and lows of raising children. Anyone who has children can testify truthfully that there are many highs and many lows…many, many lows; especially for a child with extra needs.  Between the doctor visits, physical therapy, speech therapy, dirty diapers, torn books, scratches, tantrums, school, and more; it can be a real struggle in working with our baby bear.  To top it off, I am a less than spectacular husband, supporter and listener to my noble wife. Why does she have to deal with my many, many lows too?  I love my wife!

As a working dad, many of the child-rearing lows are filtered out for me and my kids usually save their very best for when daddy gets home.  This is truly unfair; my wife knows it, and I sometimes know it, but I don’t complain.  Surely I get to experience the hard stuff, but it is much easier to digest in small bites rather than the heaping helpings that my wife is served all day every day.  Our daughter’s situation has been a struggle for both of us, and we both may not love it right now, but it is getting better every day, and God does not make mistakes. Giving us the responsibility for her care is just what God had in store for our lives—whether we thought we needed it or not!  She loves so freely, unconditionally, and deeply that I can no longer imagine my life without her in it.  And as I mentioned, it was her birthday on Saturday, and the following story is one of the highs that makes parenting so sacred and precious:

                My beautiful, wonderful wife, I love her so much!  She conspired with her mother to give our daughter one of our old iPods and a brand new docking station for her birthday.  Yes, my daughter is only three but my wife read somewhere that music is good for kids that struggle with hypo-sensitivity.  Like a living saint, my dear wife spent Friday night erasing my old red iPod of all the “worldly” songs and loading it with all of our daughter’s favorites.  Good-bye Snoop-Dawg, Usher, Akon, Bob Marley, Guns-N-Roses, Black-eyed Peas, and Justin Bieber (wait…how did he get on there?).  Hello Amy Grant, Hillsong, Chris Tomlin, Signing Times, Sound of Music, Miley Cyrus, and Justin Bieber (oh good, you came back!).  Apparently wiping your iPod and reloading it with specific songs is not as easy as it sounds and she asked me for help several times—but I was too busy drinking wine and playing my new Frisbee game App on the iPhone.  Husband of the year?...maybe 2012…

Anyhow, we awoke on Saturday morning to a gift opening extravaganza.  The docking station was cool, for a split second, but probably the least interesting gift amid a pink scooter, ceramic birds, three dollars cash, and the infamous empty boxes.  But I absolutely love music first thing in the morning so I couldn’t wait to try out her new gift.  Baby bear loves music in the morning too and this was not our first Dance Party, U.S.A. moment.  My son usually loves a good Moonwalk and Vogue routine, but he chose to join his mom for some peace and quiet time on this particular morning.  I quickly found myself alone in the living room with my baby bear, dancing to some new tunes at full volume.  I don’t think Nanna dropped a lot of cash on the docking station, so full blast was just right, even for mortals.

There we were, two dancing fools without a care in the world.  It was just me and her (and Justin and Miley).  Whether true or not, she led me to believe that there wasn’t another place on earth that she’d rather be than dancing and singing with her dear old dad in the middle of the living room on a Saturday morning on her birthday. It’s the kind of stuff that we dads live for.    

Like most two-going-on-three-year-olds, my daughter has a fascination with jumping and commanding others to jump with her.  Only, she can’t quite say the words right, so she says, “Nomp Da-Da, Nomp!”  Having spent a lot of beloved time dancing with my daughter, I understood her perfectly, “Jump Daddy, Jump!”  So there I was “nancing” and “nomping” with the most beautiful girl in the world.  We were having a moment…and that is when the tears started to form. 

I will unashamedly admit that it was not my first time listening to Miley Cyrus, but have you ever really listened to the words to “The Climb”?  Or have you ever listened to them while dancing with your daughter, the most beautiful girl in the world, in the middle of the living room, on a Saturday when it’s her 3^rd birthday?  Well, I highly recommend it. 

It’s not about how fast I get there

It’s not about what’s waiting on the other side

It’s the climb…keep the faith!

The words are really not as important as the fact that I was listening to a girl pour her heart out at the top of her lungs in a song while watching my own daughter pour her heart out in my living room with her best attempt at nancing and nomping.  Too cute.  I’m not even going to tell you about Justin and “One Less Lonely Girl”. Oh, did I mention she breaks my heart and refills it daily?  “Da-da, nomp!”

I felt so unworthy of and overfilled with love all at the same time.  What have I ever done to receive such unconditional love?  I know the answer: NOTHING.  I have done nothing to receive this love, yet she gives it any way.  Sure, on a scale of 1 to 10 most of my friends and peers would probably rank me in the upper quartile of fathering skills—and that feels good.  But, there are many days, hours, minutes, and moments where I would earn a 1 or 2 on this scale and there is no doubt in my mind that she would still love me freely and not think twice of showing mercy.  I know all you cynics out there are saying, “Yea, but she’s only three, give her time to build up some good resentment, before you know it she’ll be a teenager and conditional love is on its way”.  Well be gone naysayers, I don’t care!  My baby bear taught me a valuable lesson this weekend.  A lesson that my own Father in Heaven has been teaching me for years—if only I spent enough beloved moments dancing with Him in the living room so that I could understand his commands and feel his earnest expectations and unconditional love.  Though I’m not sure how he feels about Miley and Justin.

Dear Baby Bear,

You are wonderful.  God made you so special.  He knit you together uniquely while you were still in your mother’s womb and planted that song in your heart.  He has a plan for you—many plans!  As much as I love you, God loves you even more.  Wow!  I pray that your mommy and I are good stewards with the time in your life that God has given us to care for you.  I pray that our home is filled with the Holy Spirit and that we continue to teach each other the same lessons of unconditional love and grace that you taught me on your birthday this weekend.  That we love each other deeply and freely give and receive it—No Matter What!

Happy Birthday Se-Bear.  I love you.

-Daddy