Wednesday, April 16, 2014
(This was the eulogy presented at Joseph's funeral service, April 12, 2014, by his wife Bobbi)
Thank you everyone for being here today to honor Joseph.
For those of you who don't know me, I'm Bobbi Blood, Joe's companion and soul mate for 31 years. As in any relationship that lasts that long, we had good times and tough times. But we were happy and contented, because we had each other and a closeness and love that grew stronger with time.
I once saw a poster that said, "Joy shared is joy doubled, trouble shared is trouble halved." That's exactly how it was with us. Life was good, simply because we had each other. Joe was a true husband, faithful, loving and made me feel secure and confident that he could handle any problem that came our way.
In obituaries you'll often see the phrase, "He fought a courageous battle with cancer." I never understood what people meant by that, until I saw it happen to Joe. Yes, it really was a battle, and Yes, he fought it courageously from beginning to end. Joe never lost his hope, never stopped believing that with modern medicine, his own stubborn determination and God's help, that somehow he'd beat this terrible disease.
We feel that Joe did receive many small miracles along the way and he did beat the odds, having survived many months longer than most people do with pancreatic cancer. Through it all, Joe's unending optimism glowed like a lighthouse in a hurricane. He liked to tell the little joke about an old man who, after buying an appliance, was asked if he wanted an insurance policy on it. The old man said, "Are you kidding? At my age? I don't buy green bananas!"
Well, Joe bought green bananas when he bought a used truck only a month ago, intending to fix it up and sell it. He was always incredibly patient and determined. He never allowed himself to admit defeat in any work that he took on. And in all ways that mattered, he wasn't defeated. His whole life was a victory, because it was filled with a love for life, love for his family and love of God.
Joe and I first met in 1983. Since jobs were hard to find in the early 1980's, I helped him fix up and sell used cars for a living. Even though financially times were hard, those were some of the happiest for us because we worked side by side and Joe was his own boss. Joe was very independent with too great a sense of justice to put up with abusive jobs that were beneath his skill level. So in between having other jobs like truck driving and AC repair, Joe relied on his cars, whether in mechanical or body repairs or used car sales.
He loved cars (sometimes I wondered if he loved them more than me!) and had such an amazing storehouse of knowledge about older cars, it's a shame he didn't write a book. He learned by reading manuals, by trial and error and most importantly by talking to the old car dealers and master mechanics that he knew.
Joe was a very friendly, outgoing man that truly enjoyed people. Everywhere he went, it seemed like everyone knew and liked him. He had many good friends throughout his life and even though he lost touch with most, he often talked about them and reminisced about the old times.
His carefree nature and love for life often expressed itself in comedy. His silly moods or spontaneous jokes frequently got me laughing till I cried. He also had a perfect voice for doing impressions of famous people. They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery. Joe's imitations were not mockery. He only did voice imitations of those he liked and greatly admired, like John Wayne, Elvis Presley, Peter Falk and also friends and family like Larry Foster Sr., Howie Pulver and Harvey McCann. Joe once did a Colombo imitation at a Halloween party, complete with trench coat and cigar, that apparently was quite a hit with the crowd.
Joe's compassion for others was also extraordinary. It wasn't unusual for him to charge much less or work for free when he knew someone couldn't afford much. When selling a used car, he enjoyed knowing that he gave the buyer a good deal for their money and provided guarantees that most dealers never would. He always stopped and helped homeless men or anyone needing a hand. He almost never ate the sandwich I'd pack for him, (not because my cooking wasn't good), but because he said someone else needed it more. He'd also hand out money to strangers, pick up hitchhikers, or jump in when he saw any kind of need. Several years ago, a woman's car was on fire at a gas station. The attendants stood around helpless. Joe ran into the store, grabbed the fire extinguisher, ran back and put out the fire. He quietly left, and people must have wondered, like in a Lone Ranger movie, "Who was that masked man?"
I will miss my Joey, more than words can say. Joe, if you're listening, let me tell everyone some of the ways that I'll miss you.
I'll miss how you made me laugh, and always saw the brighter side of things.
I'll miss our long drives in the country looking for land.
I'll miss cuddling up with you to watch old movies and old TV shows.
I'll miss listening to your stories about your childhood, how you entertained the adults at family gatherings and how you had fun teasing your brothers.
I'll miss how you'd appreciate and thank me for the dinners I'd cook, even if I didn't like them myself.
I'll miss asking you the name of that old song on the radio or who sang it, and knowing that you'd always have the answer.
I'll miss relying on you to remember important dates in history and in family events, because your memory was so good.
I'll miss how you loved Sandy and all our cats over the years, and how they loved and needed you.
I'll miss how you always made me feel safe and secure, knowing you were there.
I'll miss how you taught me how to have faith in God.
I'll miss the special purpose you gave to my life, when you needed me so much during your illness. Nothing else I've ever done was more important than that. If I accomplish nothing more in my life, it will still have meaning because of you … and because of having you in my life.
Most of all, I'll miss holding you close, and hearing you say that you love me.
Joey, My dear one, you'll be in my thoughts and in my heart, every day for the rest of my life, until we meet again.
