William Ernest Buhse Eulogy
1926 - 2006
Our Savior Lutheran Church
Fort Qu'Appelle, Saskatchewan
January 19th, 2006
I would like to thank everyone that is here to support my father and our family. In particular, I would like to thank the congregation of Our Savior Lutheran Church for the lunch and all the support that have given my father and our family.
My father was a very private and proud man. He was a smart, handsome, loving, honest, hardworking and sometimes dryly funny husband, parent, friend and neighbor. He did not achieve the most in the view of this materialist world, but rather in another world – the one that lasts. The one where character counts and where people are remembered for what they were and not what they were worth. Here, he was rich beyond compare. He was the quiet rock on which families and communities are built. He was a common man of uncommon character. He was my dad, I loved him and I will miss him immensely.
So much of who I am, and who I still strive to be, I learned from this modest and unassuming person who gave so much and asked for so little. And that is true for all of his children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, friends and the people here with him this morning.
Dad was born in Regina and grew up on the farm near Winthorst and although he spent his working life in the city, it was pretty clear that he never outgrew the farm. Any one that has visited my dad can still see how important the land was to him -- From his flowers at the lake, his berries that supplied friends and neighbors to his manicured lawn.
After retirement, Dad resumed farming after a 50 year break by assisting at the Gibbons farm. Dad was nearly in heaven when he earned his stripes and got to drive the big machinery. It was a dream come true. When Dad drove the big machine into the yard, he felt like a king and even saw George waving his arms welcoming him back. Unfortunately, George was trying to wave his arms and warn him about the power lines, but Dad didn’t notice and tore them done. He only did this once though.
Even when Dad was starting to feel sick at the end, dad worried about his lawn. This past summer when dad had a bad spell, our friends Rose and Mort were kind enough to cut the grass, so it would look perfect when I came. Unfortunately, there was a problem with the mower and the grass was cut a little bit shorter than intended. This caused the grass to turn brown. My dad was very embarrassed when I saw this and assured me that his grass WAS looking great before and that this was just a temporary situation. A few weeks later, Dad had Rose and Mort take a picture of his near perfect lawn and email it to me… just so that I still knew he had the touch.
As us 4 boys know too well, Dad was a frugal man. I guess when you live through the depression, you have a different perspective. He never wanted to spend money on a new car, on dinner out or coffee. Actually, he really didn’t want to spend money. I remember, as a child, complaining that we could never afford real butter. He would say to me that when he retired I could come and visit and he would serve real butter. Well, retirement came and he still never served real butter. I think it was still too expensive for him. He used to say that it was all he could afford on a pensioners salary.
Another time, after I finally had a decent paying job, I took dad out for a “NICE” dinner. While looking at the menu, my dad started squirming in his chair. Finally, he asked …. Is this the price?. I told him … well yeah. He mumbled a bit and finally remarked. Jeez, you could by a side a beef for this.
Dad was a very practical man too. When he had fallen in love with my mom, he wanted to propose…. But it was harvest season and he had no time. So he did what any other good farmer would do… he proposed by mail.
Although Dad grew up relatively poor and never finished high school, he had a hunger for adventure and a better life. Dad moved away from the farm around 1949 for the better life in the big city of Toronto, where 3 of his 4 sons where born. I am not sure that Dad ever found the “good-life” in Toronto, but one thing that happened there helped me understand who my father really was. You see, my Dad, dreamed of trains and ultimately of being an engineer. And while he was out pounding the pavement looking for a job in Toronto, he started talking to a porter at C.N. For some reason, he told this porter that he wanted to be a train engineer. Well, this friendly porter told my dad where to go and apply for this job. And as naïve as he was, my dad just went and filled in an application not knowing that a simple farmer wouldn’t even be considered for this. Well, lo and behold, a few weeks later, my Dad got the call to come and work for CN…. But he had already accepted a position shoveling for the stockyards, so he politely declined. Upon hearing this story many years later, I asked my dad “WERE YOU NUTS? This was your dream job… why didn’t you take it.” He explained that he had already made a commitment and that he couldn’t in clear conscience take this job. This would be going back on his word. …….While I am not sure I could ever make the same decision, I started to understand the core of my Dad’s character and developed a deep respect and admiration for his values.
Dad moved back to Regina for 2 years and then back to Toronto where he worked as a streetcar driver. He then moved backed to Regina again where he unselfishly worked 2 jobs for over 10 years. This enabled my parents to build a tiny Shell of a cottage with an outdoor toilet. This humble cottage was not much, but it probably provides some of the best memories for us 4 boys and it was a focal point for many larger family get-togethers over the years. Many of the sympathy cards my dad received commented on the times they enjoyed at the old cottage. Dad had mentioned that he went out to Lutherland with his sisters in the early 1940’s when they had no road along the lake. It is no wonder he ultimately ended up spending so many years at the lake.
Dad continued to have itchy feet and the quest for a better life and moved to Winnipeg, Victoria, back to Winnipeg before coming back to his roots to retire. After retiring mom and dad also spent several happy winters in south Texas.
Besides his garden, Dad’s other love was music. He loved the choir and always looked forward to singing. Our family even had a family band, although, I can personally attest that you wouldn’t hire them to play at your wedding. Dad played the accordion, Bryan played trumpet and Gary played the sax. I was never talented enough to join these elite artists and besides, they refused to play Van Halen, but I know they had a lot of fun just fooling around in the basement.
Dad also spent many days volunteering at the church… making cabbage roles, perogies or shingling roofs.
The family has always been the most important thing for dad. He has always been there for us when we need him and when we don’t. He worried about us long after his responsibility as a parent would warrant.
I will miss my Dad dearly, but will forever be proud of the man he was. And I know that he made me who I am today. And when I am sad and missing dad, I just have to think about his grandchildren and great grandchildren and I can see that his soul and spirit lives on. And when I am sad and troubled over why MY Dad had to die from cancer, I think of Dad’s great grandchild Tailor and can smile because god helped her and she beat it.
In my 41 years of life, I do not remember my father ever telling me he loved me. Not verbally. That was not my Dad’s way. He didn’t tell you – He showed you. And I will always remember the looks on his face when he was happy with me or upset with me. Either way, it was always a look of love.
And lastly, I will always remember what my father was teaching us -- as always in his modest and often unspoken way – was that we must do these things for the ones we love not just once, and not just at the end, but always.
We love you Dad.
Thank you
Author: Kevin Buhse