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F U N Ni

2010-04-23

403

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Jack O'Neill
Gary
I've often heard it said that it's not until you lose something that you truly recognize how much it meant to you. I think I'm learning that lesson now, but it's also in this loss that I realize just how blessed my life has been. There are very few who can say that they've been blessed with more than one father, and I am one of them. When I was in grade school, my mom remarried. To say I was caustic to the idea, was an understatement, for I still had my biological father, but now I see how lucky I was to have both him and my step father.

Recently, my step father passed away. It wasn't sudden, but it was still a bit of a shock to me. In the back of my mind, I thought he'd fight on. Unfortunately, this meant that I never told him how important he was to me, and perhaps I didn't even know. He and I often butted heads. We were both stubborn, and we both came from very different generations and walks of life. As you may guess, things like that lead to some conflict, but even through that conflict, I respected him. He always tried to do what was right and just. The odd thing was, it wasn't the big things that we butted heads on, it was the little stuff, the reasons for the right and wrong, not actually what was right or wrong. It's a bit of a shame that I didn't just ignore the small stuff and see that we both saw the same thing, just in different ways, but that can't be changed now. He always wanted to and tried to help people. This was a quality I deeply respected, though I never told him that. It didn't matter what state he was in, if family needed something, he did his best to provide. This pride (something I also tend to have) was both good and bad, it occasionally made him do things that could hurt him fiscally or physically.

I remember a time when he was helping my mom move a 1/2 ton piece of machinery into the lab. The thing was well beyond our physical limits, but instead of getting lots of help or telling my mom to just get movers, he tried his best (with me and some family) to move it in. Eventually we got it in place, but we were very lucky that no one was seriously injured or killed doing this. He loved helping people though, and there was no way to stop him. Even when he was weak, he wanted to help. My sister was redoing her kitchen, and he came in to help, telling her how to do things, when he couldn't. It was just in his nature. He loved to help and give as much as he could, and it's a quality I aspire to. I still remember the joy on his face as he watched the kids open the gifts he gave them. It was as if his whole spirit glowed, being surrounded by family, and giving to his family, it seemed like it was all he ever wanted. And this giving spirit, it wasn't just tied to his family. He always tried to include everyone.

Most of my life, I've felt like an outsider, much like many other people out there. There's a good chance that it's something I did to myself, with the way I act and react to people. But even with this unique personality, he always tried to include me. He invited me to many events, and not just me, but also my friends. Now the fact that he would invite my friends is above and beyond nice. Don't get me wrong, my friends rock, but many of them are the type of friends that make parents think, "Oh, #$%#@$%@#!", much the same as what other kids parents thought when they saw me. Jack however didn't miss a beat because of this. He still invited me and my friends to many events, and if I had been smarter, I would've taken him up on it, considerably more. It would've brought me out of my shell considerably earlier, and made me comfortable in my skin. As it happens, that didn't happen until much later in my life. If I had let him help me, I probably would not have missed a kiss with an early girl friend, or been anywhere near as angry, but I didn't. Instead I went through the pain, and he continued to welcome me in.

Had I been smarter growing up, I would've recognized what a good example he was for me. Unfortunately, I didn't see that, and I never told him that. He died before I was able to make it in to see him one last time. I missed my chance to tell him how much I respected him, how thankful I was for having known him, and how grateful I was for all he had done for the family. I'll miss catching up with him, hearing his stories of the past, and conversing about science. He was a great man, teacher, and father, and he will most definitely be missed. This comic is dedicated to Hugh "Jack" O'Neill and his love of chemistry.

Week 3 winner
Gary
Mr Floppy is the winner of week three of the Smokin Guns tournament. Congratulations Mr Floppy.

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