Last night or early this morning, on July 24th, 2007, my father, Everett Walter Zupke, first born son to Walter and Lucille Zupke of Sumner, Iowa, died peacefully in his sleep of "natural causes." I can still scarcely believe it. It doesn't seem real, somehow--as if I'm in some sort of weird dream. He was in good health, although there was some talk that he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure a couple years back. He never liked to talk about his health, and on occasion would let his family know he was having surgery...after he had gotten out of the hospital.

My dad was a beautiful man, kind, soft spoken, even tempered, slow to anger. The most troubling thing about him was that he was weak when it came to standing up for himself, or his relationship with his children, when it came to his 2nd and 3rd wives. He seemed to chose willful women as partners, and found great personal satisfaction in taking care of them.

A committed Christian, worshiping throughout his life, he was uneasy about the fact that his first son (me) joined a non-Christian 'cult' but he never confronted me about it. We had a curious relationship around religion for I had once been an orthodox Christian myself, so I understood the world view and the mind set. We could actually talk about his faith with more depth and clarity than my two youngest brothers, who both consider themselves to be Christian.

I think he had the most comfortable relationship his second son, who ironically is a secular humanist agnostic/atheist. I suspect this was because this brother didn't put the kind of emotional demands on our father as I and my two youngest brothers did at times. They were very similar in emotional tone--hard to read, externally subdued, and at times, somewhat clueless in the intricacies and subtleties of interpersonal dynamics in social situations.

Even though he seemed disappointed that I never, in his eyes, realized my 'potential', I always knew he loved me. I might even hazard a guess that the disapprobation I sometimes felt from him might have been fueled more from my own personal insecurities than any preoccupation on his part. Clarifying this mystery was something I had hoped to achieve in the years to come. But alas, that experiment has come to an abrupt end.

I'm particularly sad, not only for my brothers and their families, but for my father's siblings and mother, the latter with whom he was particularly close. She is currently in her 88th year, and I imagine it will be very hard losing her firstborn, and possibly, most favored son. (My grandmother definitely has favorites amongst her children and grandchildren.) Most of my dad's family live in Iowa, where they were born, and where he expressed his desire to be buried.

It is completely bizarre that my dad recently sent an email his mother and siblings, along with his four sons, detailing that he wished to be buried in the same part of a cemetery his father, and infant sister had been buried in Iowa, and sometime in the future, where his mom will be buried. Did he know that he was not long for this world? If so, I suspect such knowing was probably of the unconscious variety. However, Dad was known to be circumspect about his health issues. There won't be an autopsy; everyone seems comfortable with 'natural causes.' But something feels 'fishy' about it all to me. It just seemed too sudden, without any warning at all.

I'm grateful that I made the effort to call him more frequently these last two or three years. I know he enjoyed our conversations, and I certainly did as well--even though we were very different people and didn't often seem to have that much in common. However, beneath the surface, we were probably much more alike than either of us would have wished to admit to.

I'm sure I'll have more to write about my father in the days and weeks to come. As I said, this still doesn't feel particularly 'real' to me yet.

It was with great love and respect that try to honor the memory of my father, Everett Zupke.

May you find the peace with your Lord that was lacking in your life at home.

I love you Dad!