Funeral Tribute for My Dad

A son’s bond with his mother is a natural thing, but I’m here today to talk about my bond with my father. Sons cherish their mothers and are often called mama’s boys. Well, I was a poppa’s boy. I had a very strong bond and good relationship with my father since I was a kid in LeFrak City/Sherwood Village in Corona Queens, New York. My dad and I were the best of friends. We had a father-son relationship that was like no other that was admired by those that made us aware that they were acknowledging it.

My father treated me like we were of the same age. He engaged me in conversations like I was an adult when I was growing up. I guess it was because I was the younger brother he never had, and sadly I never knew any family member or relative of his. And still, after his death, I know no one from his family. He stuck to me like glue and people always saw us together. I guess it was because my dad really had no family and made me his everything.

He had to hustle hard in life on his own since the days he was in Kumasi as a youth. He relocated to Accra at the age of 15 after having a rough childhood, so he used to tell me. He became a man in Jamestown, British Accra where he was known as a professional soccer player. He played ball with the many greats in Ghana. He was a good friend of the late soccer coach Cecil Jones Attuquayefio.

I remember that my sister Wilma and I used to call him by our surname Ardey, which he didn’t mind us calling him that. Until one day when I slept in my parents’ room one night and asked him, “Is it ok that I call you Ardey or you would prefer I call you dad? And he responded, “You can call me Ardey, you can call me dad. I really don’t mind.” My dad loved to go to Ghana. He took my sister and me there a lot. We enjoyed eating kebabs and drinking fanta at the beach, going to restaurants and chop bars, riding around in the cars he shipped to Ghana with our own personal driver. We loved Ghanaian music like the likes of Daddy Lumba, which my dad always played the Aben Wo Ha album among many other Daddy Lumba albums.

I remember I became so fond of sausage kebabs in Ghana. One day my dad went to Ghana by himself without us, the year was 2003. I told him over the phone that I wanted some sausage kebabs, so he tried to bring some with him on his way back to the United States. The officials at the airport made him throw it all in the garbage. I was sad when he returned and told me, but I appreciated his effort.

“We are winners”. This was my dad’s favorite saying. My dad loved Psalms, so he made me become fond of reading Psalms as well. Psalm 91 was one of his favorite verses which read, “He that dwells in the secret place of the most high shall abide under the shadows of the Almighty. “ Indeed my dad introduced us to know God and that has stuck with us ever since.

Due to how social and free my dad was, he was referred to as “American Man”in Sakumono in Ghana. Everyone knew him and had love for him. My dad was a very blunt and straight talker. He never bit his tongue for anyone. When we moved to New Jersey after he retired from work in 2006, I got to spend the kind of time with him that I will always cherish for the rest of my life.

When dad passed away, the news was broken to Wilma that he had passed away. It didn’t dawn on her until 2 days later when she asked my wife where her dad was. Today I believe my sister Wilma knows that our dad is no more. Yes, Wilma, Ardey is dead and gone forever. My sister and I take consolation in Romans 14 verse 8 which states, “If we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord. So whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.”

Even though my dad died, it didn’t register or hit me immediately. To this day, it’s like a movie to me. I find myself at times in deep thought asking myself, “Is my dad really dead and gone?’ I simply just can’t wrap my head around it. I thought my father would always be here, so I’m finding it very hard to come to terms with his untimely demise. Never before had I experienced someone so close to me pass away.

The day my dad died, my mom and niece called me crying on the phone that he was confirmed dead by the hospice health aide. I was in denial. I simply couldn’t believe it. I came and saw his body lifeless in his room with his mouth open. Dad, the hands of death snatched you away from me. You weren’t supposed to leave just yet. Your dream was that we buy a new house. How could you die like that?

Dad, I’m glad you lived to see the day I got married. I’m glad you met your grandchildren Emily and Ethan. One thing you said recently before your demise was that male children are hard to come by and I’m glad you met your grandson. This Sunday is Father’s Day. I feel sorry that you couldn’t live to see what I would have gotten you as a Father’s Day gift as I always do for you every Father’s Day. Not to mention, your 81st birthday would have been on October 19th, 2021. Farewell, Dad. Goodbye. Dad, we love you. Ardey, God be with you. Till we meet again. We’ll miss you. Rest in perfect peace.