Eulogy delivered by Judy at the Memorial Service on Sunday January 27, 2013
We’re all here for the same reason….to celebrate Peter Proctor. A lot of what you’re going to hear me say is almost exactly what Ken said.
Our dad was a regular guy who was down to earth and genuine.He was equally comfortable with small children, academics, tradespeople, clerks and professionals. He was deferential, but he was never intimidating. He was the opposite of pretentious: if the socks were too tight on his ankles, he sliced them with scissors to make them comfortable. If there was a rip in his work jacket, he mended it with duct tape. He was not vain, but he was well-groomed. Every three weeks, he insisted on getting the same military haircut he had worn since the 1950s. He always polished his shoes.Around women, he was a polite and well-mannered gentleman.He opened the door for ladies, and never let a female carry anything in his presence.It annoyed him in the last few years when he started using a walker, because I insisted on carrying things for him…and he said I was doing his job.
He enjoyed people…. people of all ages: babies, children, teenagers, middle aged women, the elderly. Everyone liked being around him. He treated them with respect but was never afraid to be silly. He had a great sense of humor. I think he got along with kids because he knew how to act like one.
My dad knew who he was, and he was very comfortable with himself. He was not afraid to ask questions if he didn’t understand something, and he was not afraid to listen to the answers. He was comfortable expressing his wonder and amazement at all kinds of things, whether it was elaborate Christmas lights on someone’s house, roses in the backyard, the homes perched on stilts in the hills, the price of gas, or the friendliness of somebody he met. He’d raise the pitch of his voice a few octaves when he expressed his astonishment. “You can’t believe what I just saw!” (mimicking his high-pitched voice).
Peter Proctor was a very practical guy. Maybe he developed this skill as one of eight children growing up during the depression. He recycled long before it was popular…and that man could fix anything! Over nearly thirty years and countless projects, I had the good fortune to learn the fine art of home repair at his side. His resourcefulness was legendary…and sometimes almost scary. He could bend rebar into an arbor, and he could pull a stump the size of a Volkswagen out of the ground with nothing more than a chain. If he didn’t have a tool for a job, he made one. Some of his projects were not pretty to look at, but they always worked. He was not afraid to tackle anything, and it was impressive and somewhat unnerving to see him (even into his eighties) scale a wall, scramble up a ladder, or hang from a tree.If he was having trouble making something work, his solution always was “Get a bigger hammer!”
My dad was extraordinarily persistent…or stubborn, as my mother called it. He never gave up on anything. If he thought he could do something, he kept working until he accomplished it, no matter how long it took. He was always busy doing something, and was not afraid of hard work. People marveled at his physical prowess, and into his seventies, he had no trouble bringing men half his age (mostly Ken and his friends) to their knees with his vice-like hand grip.
He came from humble beginnings, as Ken told you. His formal education was limited, but there are a couple things you might not know about him.As a Corporal Mechanic in the Royal Canadian Air Force during World War II, he never saw combat, but he was involved in “Operation Muskox” the largest military exercise ever held in the Canadian Arctic. He participated in a three-month expedition testing equipment and snow vehicles along a 3100 mile journey in sub-zero temperatures.Along the way, he made several friendships that lasted his entire life.
Another thing you might not know is that his work as a welder included the assembly of some massive water supply pipelines all over Southern California, Nevada and Arizona. Often he would leave the house at midnight on Sunday when he had to drive out-of-state for work Monday morning.He would drive all night, start work at 6 am, and work all week. He would then leave the out-of-state job at 6 pm on Friday and drive home through the night so he could be home with his family for the weekend.
There are several things he will be remembered for. He was a welcoming host.My dad always wanted everybody to feel at home. Whether there were people at the house for a big holiday gathering or for hamburgers on the grill, or the mail carrier stopping by to chat in the garage, his hospitality was simple and comfortable. It took the form of American Cheese wrapped around sweet pickles, or Cheetos, or fresh macadamia nuts from the tree in his yard which were cracked in the garage vice while you waited. And always, there was “soda pop”, cold beer, and fresh orange juice.
He will also be remembered as a good friend. Although he appeared quiet and was not outgoing in the traditional sense, he seemed to make friends wherever he went. Driving through the neighborhood, he’d wave at people in their yards. When I’d ask, “Who’s that?”, he’d respond, “You won’t know if you don’t say hello!” And he didn’t just “say hello” to people. He was there for his friends. Whether he was visiting people in the hospital (and not just once, he would go every day of the hospitalization, even if he just took coffee to family members), he was there for his friends. He was the guy who people called on when they needed a favor, because he never made them feel like their request was a big deal.
Another thing he will be remembered for is that he was generous… and he was grateful. He was not generous in a typical way -he did not purchase gifts and he did not expect them.The gifts he gave were far more precious than material things. Not only was he a loyal Red Cross blood donor for many years, he gave the gift of shared time, along with occasional bags of tomatoes and oranges. He gave to everyone…families, friends, neighbors, or acquaintances. He changed tires in the rain and late at night, he brought meals to people who were ill, he helped with household repairs, he happily built things if somebody needed something, he entertained children, did yard work, ran errands, painted stuff, or watched peoples’ homes when they were on vacation.There was no task beneath him. I don’t believe I ever heard him refuse to do anything he was asked to do. On the flip side, he was genuinely grateful for anything people did for him, and genuinely grateful for any gift he received.
What I will remember most about him is that he was a REALLY GOOD dad. He always listened to me.He was ALWAYS available and ALWAYS had time for me. He attended every one of my choir performances between fourth and twelfth grades. He typically sat in the second row with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes. I remember his patience with me as a third grader as he unraveled the mystery of subtraction with regrouping. He didn’t give up until I got it!I recall his unending willingness to chauffeur me and my friends around in high school, whenever we wanted to go anywhere. When I got a job as a phone installer and had to drive a truck the next day, he patiently taught me how to handle a stick shift. I have priceless memories of singing with him in the car at the top of our lungs when I was eight…and when he was eighty-eight. I remember sitting together with him and a thermos of hot chocolate at football games when I was in high school…and again when Matthew and Kathryn were in high school. He would solemnly give advice…but only after it was asked for.He inspired my respect because of the way he treated others…and the way he treated me. I was a well-behaved child and adolescent in large part because I did not want to let my dad down. I knew he was proud of me….and I wanted him to always be proud of me.
So what is his legacy? When I think of my dad, I think of humility, persistence, resourcefulness and loyalty. I remember his patience and his tolerance with everything from home improvement projects to annoying people.I also remember his attitude of gratitude. He appreciated what he had…and he rarely asked for anything. He was not one for organized religion, but my dad was arguably one of the most Christian people I have ever met. He believed in helping others, and he lived his beliefs. When I asked him years ago about his philosophy of life, he said something like, “Mother Teresa’s doing it right.She’s in there with the people, not living the high life”.
His simple approach to life could usually be summarized in one of his witty sayings: If somebody complained about something that wasn’t worth complaining about, he’d say, “You’d cry if you got hung with a new rope”. If we thought something was unfair, he’d say, “I cried when I had no shoes until I saw a man without any feet”. And, if we made a big deal out of something that wasn’t such a big deal, he’d comment, “A hundred years from now, you’ll never know the difference”. The message was always the same. Life isn’t that complicated…. just deal with it, and do it in a nice way.
By the standards of our culture, my dad did not accomplish great things. He was a regular guy who worked hard, loved his family, appreciated what he had, and tried to help others. He was a gentle and generous man. His greatest accomplishment is that he will be remembered in the hearts of many people for the kindnesses he showed them.
When I was a teenager, I read a quote regarding a successful life and I immediately thought of my dad. It shaped my view of the world, and helped me put into perspective what is really important. It read:
"He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; who has enjoyed the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it; who has never lacked appreciation of earth’s beauty or failed to express it; has always looked for the best in others, and given them the best he had; whose life was an inspiration, whose memory, a benediction."
By this standard, Peter Proctor was a success. He was a man of character, who made a huge difference in my life and in the lives of my family and friends. I am very grateful that Peter Proctor was my dad and that he was on this earth for eighty-eight years. I know that he is and always will be a part of everything I do, and I know that the world is a better place because he lived in it.
That’s what we’re here to celebrate.
