A Tribute to Dad

When my dad retired, we threw a big party for him.
I wrote a poem in tribute to him and read it at the gathering.
He lived a difficult decade after that retirement with
one health issue after another slowing him down.
But, his hearty hugs and sweet nature
were always alive and well…
and remembered with
love and gratitude.

Here’s that retirement poem.
It tells you a lot about my
hard-working,
loveable
dad.

A Tribute to Dad on His Retirement

Tonight we’ve come together
To celebrate the start
Of the Third Phase in my dad’s life.
In the Second, most of you played a part.

The First Phase was in Newman
Where Salvador came-a fraum-a.
His childhood was filled with girls,
Five sisters and his mawm-a.

“My Salvador can-a marry anybod;
So all you girls look out-a!”
He picked and chose an outta-state blond.
“No Catholic? No Italian?” they shout-a.

They bought a house in Newman.
Dad delivered milk and bread.
But then he went to Frank’s garage
And worked on cars instead.

My sister, “Saleen”, came along,
And then before you knew it,
“Gaetano” was expected next,
But “Janet” came and blew it!

So, what-a you think? My Salvador
Izza back where first he start-a…
Heeza surrounded by girls-a, a wife and kids.
Mama Mia! Life, sheeza hard-a!!

To make things worse, the war began.
Mom worked at the Bomb Plant
And Dad got into this Plant here.
Now life took a new slant.

The Second Phase had just begun:
Joe, Leo, Melio, and Gene
Had pooled resources with Dad
To sweep the valley clean.

The Tallow Works was something new.
They chose the name Pacific.
We moved out to a barren field
And a smell that was less than terrific.

Our home said, “Office;” the phone rang
From early morn ’til night.
Business boomed while Dad drove truck.
He treated the farmers right.

I used to go with Dad in summer
To Stockton’s butcher shops.
We had a blast together then.
With me, Dad was always tops!

The plant-a, she grew-a; the family, too.
We needed a change. You believed us.
So we moved to Turlock, into a new home.
And Merle came and relieved us.

Through all the years Dad drove the truck,
The wheel and road were part of him.
And then Pacific sold to Petersen.
Don’t you think that was smart of him?

Now he could reap the Union checks,
And get a feel for the other side.
He left the headaches, but kept the friends
And the route; so he’d have to ride.

But now the ride will go new routes.
The Third Phase has begun.
Dad’s ready for a well-earned rest,
‘Cuz his Second Phase was WELL DONE!

Do you think he can rest? Has he learned how?
I’ve never seen Dad sit and shirk.
I’ve never seen Dad happy doing not a thing.
I’ve always seen Dad at his work.

Of course there were times when he had to slow down:
God tapped on his shoulder and said,
“Here’s a wrist break, intestines, something one wrong.
Now rest for a while in your bed!”

The message came through that thick head of his,
And he slept for a moment or few.
But (praise be to God) he enjoyed Bocci Ball
And had time for a play day or two.

So Phase Three will have to be free
To play at some things old and new.
Free to learn how to just come and sit
And simply admire the view.

He’ll still need his friends (you folks sitting here),
And he’ll still work and get behind the wheel,
But he’ll have time to do and go where he wants,
He and Mom … in their new automobile.

I hope that you here will join me now:
Stand! Let’s toast to my Dad; he’s our friend:
“May retirement bring health, laughter and joy,
May you live to a-hundred and ten!”

God Bless You, Dad!
Thanks for being YOU!

Rest in Peace
Salvador DeAngeles
May 14, 1911 – April 8, 1995

Happy Father’s Day!
Have a Lovely Sunday…
And I hope you remember your daddy
with love and kindness and fond memories.
If he is still with you, treasure his hugs…
and give him an extra hug from me.

Love,
JanBeek