Sunday, December 2, 2018

Kenneth Gustafson 3/22/1943 - 11/22/2018


Guest Blogger Dan Gustafson.  A tribute to my dad.


I am Dan Gustafson and from our family thank you for being here to celebrate my dad.

This all started with a young boy growing up in Cloquet, MN with a typical childhood.  A pet lamb named Billy running on the kitchen floor, his father and uncle teaching him to fix motorcycles in his parent’s basement and eventually moving to the cities.  A chance meeting at the Rusty Nail with my dad asking a pretty girl to dance, her polite decline, but then a conversation about the Valentine card he had received from his parents was enough to convince her to share the page number in the phone book where he could find her number.  Well he found it, and 47 years of marriage, 3 kids and 9 grandchildren later and here we are today celebrating the life of my dad.





I am proud to be my father’s son and I certainly take after my dad in a lot of ways.  He was not the most talkative and definitely not particularly fond of public speaking.  Jerry Seinfeld has a joke about the fear of public speaking being the most common fear and death being number two, meaning the average person would rather be in the casket than giving the eulogy.  For me a chance to share about how much my dad means to me is enough to overcome any fear of public speaking.  While my dad may have pondered the choice for a moment he would certainly choose to still be here because he wanted more time with his family and watching the grandchildren play and giggle and still had unfinished projects that he was working on.  As we went through the progression of doctor appointments, he did not fear death nor carry any feelings why is this happening to me or lose his sense of humor, his questions were how much time do I have left to spend with my family and will I be strong enough to work in my work shop.  With a likely Mesothelioma diagnosis upcoming, but still wanting to work on his current projects, at my mother’s insistence he would have to wear a dust mask to keep his lungs as healthy as possible and he did, safety first.  That is my dad in a nutshell, selfless and only asking about himself if it would affect his ability to have time with his family and help others.



The love my dad had for his family comes through in so many ways. One of the most evident is found in pictures. You will notice two things, he really likes to wear flannel, and more importantly he is often looking down at the child or grandchild he is with adoringly.






Being a man of few words, but overflowing with love for his family led dad to use his actions to show us his love.  I try to call my parents most days and when my dad would answer, my question for him was always what you are working on today.  He did not spend time with the usual retirement leisure activities of golf, reading, travel, he spent his time building and most often it was something requested by a child or grandchild. If you see it out there, take a look at his project book or even take a look in the nursery here at Northgate to see the ark he built for the church.  He would downplay his abilities, from his first lamps to recent massive projects, but he was so talented and creative with the design and building.  His projects fill our houses and almost without exception they are not painted.  Dad loved the look of wood, especially walnut, and his projects were made of solid wood and very sturdy.  The ongoing joke is the safest place in the event of a tornado is under a piece of dad’s furniture.  I am certain I have the only solid wood, unpainted, stained and finished bean bag boards that could also be used as storm shelter.  He really loved not only sharing his work with others, but also working with others.  When Krista and I bought a home that we wanted to remodel, he was on board and was even a little excited.  The Google Map pictures are updated about every 2-3 weeks and the picture of our house had his car in the driveway for about a year.  Some of my favorite memories were working with him on the house and his praise on doing a good job.  He helped with the remodel in so many ways including rewiring the house with me via Facetime as he was recovering from knee surgery and not able to get into the attic.  It was a pretty proud moment for him and me when the electrical inspector came through and commented on how everything looked great and how the wiring was neatly fastened above and beyond code requirements. Again, my dad seeing to it that things were done right and trying to pass that trait on to us.

Although he spent a lot of full days working on his projects in retirement, retirement was still a dramatic decrease in work for my dad.  His perfect retirement day was having a project to work on without a deadline to complete it as he enjoyed the process.  This was in contrast to his working days as an electrician, which often started with a phone call before 6am from his boss Kirk to discuss his day.  Kirk called him his right hand, and always knew a job was in good hands with dad.  Although dad was proud of the work he did with his hands, as we got older he spoke of his tired body and especially sore knees from his physical work and encouraged us to work as much as we could with our minds. For me personally, he inspired me to do what I do today.  In high school he started sharing his 401(k) statements and had me invest my earnings from summer work to learn about the market.  In addition he also did everything he could financially to make these dreams possible.  He started working a 2nd job delivering pharmaceuticals to nursing homes a few nights and weekends.  These affectionately named “drug runs” meant he was leaving home at 6am arriving home at 4pm to have an early dinner with his family and leaving again from 5pm to 11pm.  This work ethic put three kids through private colleges without any student loans and had enough to assist each of us with our down payment on our first houses.



His work ethic provided for all of us and allowed my mom to stay home, but it was accentuated with his financial wisdom, meaning he was frugal and what he earned went a long way.  We were never lacking anything growing up and were even spoiled to each have our own car.  This was helpful with all the sports, activities and jobs, but it was double edged sword as his knowledge of cars also meant he kept them running past their prime.  Our 1979 olive green and rusty Buick Century was pretty easy to spot in 1995, but it still ran well.  Before computerization he was able to fix just about anything in any car, but as he learned to care for a car, he was smart enough to find another matching car to keep from having to learn additional maintenance.  That led us to having a fleet of Plymouth Reliant cars at one time having a 1986, 87 and 88 including two white sedans and a gold station wagon.

Although he most easily expressed his love through his actions and his words were few, they were always important.  If something was troubling us mom would actively listen ask questions and help us list pros and cons of every alternative.  Dad would listen, but his advice rarely changed from we love you, we support you and you will make the right decision.



As I became a dad, it was even more evident how much my dad gave and how selfless he was because our need for his help increased.  We all found so much comfort knowing that whatever we needed that all we had to do was to ask him and he would be willing to do it, and often times the asking part was not even necessary.  When Krista went back to work in January after Henrik’s birth our daycare did not have a spot for Henrik until May.  We found a nanny we liked that could do 3 ½ days per week and my parents volunteered to take the other days.  With my mom still being active volunteering her availability was a bit limited, but my dad said no problem he would take care of Henrik.  Henrik was colicky and after about two weeks the nanny said the 3 ½ days she was watching Henrik was too much for her, but quickly we had the usual response when in need of help, my dad would do it. He even told my mom that with more time he was going figure out Henrik and how to keep him happy and napping.  He definitely did that and as some of you know Henrik is now 14 months and has only slept through the night twice, so we liked to tease dad that he spoiled him so much as every nap with Papa got to be in his arms.  Dad held him for hours, just a Papa admiring his grandson snuggled in his arms. 



It is one thing for a Papa to watch his grandson, but my dad also did similar care for his mother in law and his own mother.  When his mother in law was no longer able to care for herself, but still wanted to stay at home, my dad moved into her house near Madison for 6 weeks to care for her around the clock until she passed away.  And for his own mother, when she was no longer able to live on her own, my dad visited her every day.  She was also having memory lapses and would call up to 10 times per night for a few years to ask where she was and when she would be going home to the farm. My dad would answer each call as if it was the first time she had asked and explain that she was living by us and that she was home and everything was being taken care of for her.

My dad almost always kept in emotions in check, but once a year on Christmas we had a tradition prior to opening gifts of passing a candle around to give each person a chance to share what they were thankful for.  This was the one time a year dad could not keep his emotions in and would get a tear in his eye and a quiver in his voice as he shared how thankful he was for his wife Becki, his children and their spouses and his grandchildren.  Another tradition that started more recently was the kissing hand.  Earlier this summer my son Cal was transitioning to a new class and was now clinging to Krista or I at drop off and his only explanation was that he missed his mom and dad when we left.  Krista’s mom Vicki gave us a book called The Kissing Hand about a mother raccoon taking her son to school and kissing his hand.  That kiss would be with him no matter what and whenever you feel lonely just press the kissing hand to your cheek and you will be filled with warm thoughts.  So each day we gave Cal his kissing hand and a sticker that came with the book.  A week or so later Cal came home with his sticker taped to his shirt with packaging tape and we decided it was time to get a stamp that would not get lost and could be replaced.  My parents knew this story and I was retelling it to my brother the day we received the informal diagnosis in early November that it was likely Mesothelioma.  I was struggling with the emotions that we might not have much time with left with my dad and that anytime I left might be the last time I see him and that I would miss him.  Just like Cal I told my dad I needed a kissing hand from him. Cal started giving him kissing hands when we would leave and gave him a Kissing Hand sticker when he visited Papa in the hospital.  Maria and Teresa had their own Kissing Hand tradition that they gave to each other each night and at the bus stop so they joined right in on the kissing hand and soon my dad was giving kissing hands to everybody as they said goodbye.  As this has meant a lot to us over the past few weeks we have Kissing Hand stickers if you would like to take one with you today.



After the prognosis continued to worsen and the decision was made to allow dad to just be comfortable. We had a great day with all of us together in the hospital, sharing stories and memories and telling dad how much we loved him and how much he meant to us.  I stayed overnight with him and for my dad not to protest and tell me to go home he had conceded he had passed along his stubbornness to us and was happy to have someone with him.  That night as I sat next to him while he slept and just held his hand, a few times came up where I needed my hand back.  As I slowly took it back he squeezed harder on my hand and then when I would try again and he would turn to me smile and go back to sleep.  He slept more and more on Wednesday night as my brother and sister stayed with him overnight.  And my dad in his last selfless act waited for me and my mom to arrive to say our final goodbye in person and passed to allow us to have everyone together for Thanksgiving dinner and create Thanksgiving as our special time to be with each other and remember him.



Through this whole process of doctor appointments and hospitalization and his passing it was good to see so much of my dad and be reminded of the person he was, being able to tell him how much we love him, being able to see his legacy present in our family and being reminded of my dad in the caring actions and words of our friends and family.  With families of our own it is just not possible to consistently spend as much time with our parents as we might like, but the past month was a gift being able to see him so much and in the day to day of life.  Until my dad was no longer able, he thanked every nurse or doctor that came into his room for their care.  He even told a physician’s assistant at urgent care that he would go to the emergency room to make her feel better when she told him she would feel like she was not doing her job if she could not convince him to go to the emergency room. The man that was so used to taking care of everyone else before himself was so gracious in receiving help when he needed it and was so appreciative.  My dad’s legacy of selflessness was present in my mom being with him for every doctor appointment and by his side for a month straight.  It was in my sister, brother and I in making sure dad was never by himself and spending countless hours in the hospital and every night to allow my mom to get some rest at night, but still be comfortable that someone was with him.  It is in our spouses, Krista, Lisa and Troy were there to support us emotionally and to take on extra duties with kids to allow us the time with our dad and even making Thanksgiving dinner. Our local in-laws, were on call to help out when needed with extra kid help and Thanksgiving help and the outpouring of support in visits, calls, texts, emails, food, flowers from family and friends helps remind us that all these acts are what my dad would have done for others in the same situation. 

Every day I think of him I am reminded how selfless and gracious he was and to strive for those qualities in myself and to teach and model those qualities for our kids as he has done for us.  The best compliment I can give is to tell someone they remind me of my dad and best compliment I can hope to receive is that I remind someone of him.  I know I will be sad as I miss my dad, but I am thankful he was my dad, and as Cal has reminded me when I am sad, I still have his kisses and he is in my heart and in heaven still watching over us.





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