Goettsch

By Brian Fulford 4/16/2010 This is my last posting on CarePages for my dad.

We are all so very touched and thankful for the outpouring of support, love and prayers, for Judd and his family since his stay at Mayo. For this we say THANK YOU!! This support outlet was a godsend not only for the family, but for Judd, who would occasionally ask me to read entries and replies to remind him of just what happened, as sometimes even he found it hard to believe. Simply put, our lives were all changed, most obviously Judd's, since the end of August 2008 after his surgery at Mayo. The support of friends and family made it all so much less painful.

My previous postings over the last 20 months have really been on behalf of Judd and the family. This one is from me. I've even included the eulogy that I wrote and recanted at Judd's funeral yesterday at Saint Patrick's Church at the end of this posting.

Just so you know...

I miss my dad so much. My heart just aches to see him one more time...just one more hug...one more embrace...one more smile...just one more look into those beautiful blue eyes of knowledge and wisdom...anything. It seems as if everything I do reminds me of him - like when I look into the clear blue sky and feel the gentle breeze of Spring I remember how much he loved to feel the sunshine on his face (with his squinty smile) and I think of him. When I hear the birds singing and see the flowers blooming as they are now I'm thinking of him. These feelings transcend into the strangest things - It seems like every "good" song I hear on the radio is one that either "means" something or is one that he would have liked. But he is not here. I can no longer pick up the phone or go to see him and say "Hey Pop! How are you today?" He has gone into the Great Beyond. God I miss him. He taught me so much. So very much of who I am as a person is due in large part to him.

I will never forget this part of my life and what I've learned so far. The last 20 months of my life has been a completely new education in and of itself. I promise to always remember it and use it to benefit others to the best of my ability. You know what they say... "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Well let me tell you - there were times when I felt like I was dying too right along with him - kind of like a "sympathy pregnancy" but the other way around. It hurt so bad to see him suffer - all of us, family and friends alike, felt the pain of what he endured. But then a blessing happened - he passed away during the night, a night like any other, and supposedly didn't feel a thing. Incroyable! as the French would say... Regardless, I am so thankful that it wasn't any more of a long and drawn-out ordeal as I believe many of us thought it would be, and I know everyone else is too. I know he didn't want to put any of us through what the medical profession was predicting. It was simply another one of the many other gifts from God that he received during his life here on earth. It was time and there was no sense in lingering.

Even with all of the "expecting" that surrounded his passing it was still somewhat of a shock.

God I miss him.

The following is what I read yesterday when we laid him to rest; once again - thank you to everyone who supported us through this difficult time. May you all be blessed with as many wonderful loving friends and family as Judd was.

It has been said that the loss of a parent is one of life's most traumatic events in one’s own life. I now know the devastating truth of that statement. I've been told that, in time, the hurt will begin to fade away and be replaced by positive memories that soothe the soul. Already, I can feel that happening but I also know that it will take the rest of my life to ever stop missing my dad.

When I was young my father used to often say out of the blue and at the strangest times “Son, aren’t we lucky!” I would always just go along with what he was saying and say, yes dad…we are. It wasn’t until many years later that I fully realized just what he meant and what his feeling of being lucky meant to him. He had his life – a life that wasn’t expected to go past the age of thirty and he gave thanks regularly. Luck? This man was lucky!

Judd had the good fortune of being raised by two loving parents, Helen and George, and grew up with his brother Jim and sister Mary in the idyllic town of St. Louis Park. He made a lot of friends, some of whom are here today. Whenever Dad would tell me stories from back then I could swear I was listening to an episode of the Little Rascals. At least that is how I visualize some of the antics I’ve been told.

In 1959 Judd had the good fortune of meeting Julie, my wonderful mother, and began a relationship that spanned fifty-one years. Through good times and not so good times they managed to maintain a bond that somehow lasted through the decades. They made a family together; something that the doctors and surgeons from 1959 might not have thought was such a great idea because he could die. Nonetheless, Judd being Judd, he decided to push the envelope and go for it. Live his life on his own terms. I’m glad he did for obvious reasons. I’ve always admired his ability to just go for it! He was a “Do-er” in the truest sense. A certified Risk Taker. He often said – if you don’t ask you don’t get – you just have to go for it and see what happens.

Things didn’t always go Judd’s way and he was no stranger to the occasional defeat in some way or another, albeit this was rare as he always maintained his competitive nature. While sometimes powerless over things out of his control, like his declining health, he always managed to pick himself up, remain optimistic and ready to face a new day no matter what challenges might lay ahead. His resiliency, both physically and mentally, was amazing and even “miraculous” to witness. I came to adore my father even more for his ability to keep plugging along. Tomorrow was a new day – a fresh start.

The other day I came across a quote by author and humorist Mark Twain, also a fellow lover of the Mississippi River as Judd was. Mr. Twain’s conviction was similar to my father’s when he wrote “The human race has one really effective weapon and that is LAUGHTER and an abiding belief that COMEDY KEEPS THE HEART SWEET. This couldn’t be truer for Judd! His sense of humor was remarkable and we all loved him for it. He had an uncanny way of disarming otherwise uncomfortable situations with a joke or a jab. Just hearing his boisterous laugh was enough to make most other people laugh even if they didn’t hear the joke. His genuine sense of humor really helped him and all of us through some the darker times of the last 20 months of his life.

Another aspect of Judd’s life where he had a great deal of luck was in his friendships. Judd was a people person to no end and became friends with people easily. Friends came and went through his life just as they do in all of our own lives. However, over the last few years I have had the privilege of getting to know some of Judd’s friends from his graduating high school class of St. Louis Park 1956. These are the dearest, sweetest and most dedicated of friends who loved Judd and Judd loved back just as much. Now they have some fun stories too! Talk about Little Rascals! But when you find yourself in your darkest hour you really find out who your real friends are. Well Judd’s classmates were there with him right through it all. Judd loved you for that and I do to.

In his last years of life I believe Judd came full-circle and fully realized that his core accomplishment and greatest amount of luck in his life was his family; All of us who are here with you today. Judd marveled at our accomplishments and the closeness of our family that he helped to create along with my mother. As one of his five children, number four to be exact, Judd was good at making each one of us feel special, unique and very much loved. He was a good provider who always wanted the best for himself and for his family. While the last 20 months of my family’s lives has been something of a “Long Goodbye” in and of itself, I know we are all so thankful to have had the extra time God gave us to spend with Dad. And he was thankful too. The time to talk. The time to have the important discussions. The time to mend some fences. The time to share beliefs and wishes – and most importantly more time to love and be close to one another.

As he lay in bed on Sunday evening, just after my mother arrived to spend time with him and Dave and I were getting ready to leave, his last spoken words to me echo my last words to him.

"I love you."

The words were spoken just hours before his death, a beautiful and complete ending to a remarkable man filled with so much love and a whole lot of luck.

May God bless you dad. You may rest now. Your exhausting journey is over and your work here is complete. Yes, you were a lucky man but perhaps it is all of us who had the most luck by having you in our lives. May your legacy live on in those you loved and loved you in return.

Brian Fulford