Dad

On June 22, my dad went into the hospital to have his gallbladder removed. While there, they were going to fix a hiatal hernia. He was supposed to be there a day or two. In the early morning hours on July 12, still in the hospital, he passed away.

My dad was in very good health. He was active, worked out 3-4 times per week, and took good care of himself. I guess I kind of took for granted that at 71 years of age, he wasn’t going to be around forever. I certainly didn’t expect what seemed like little more than a day surgery to be the trigger.

My father and I mostly had a good relationship through my life. He was the primary factor for my decision to pursue a career in law enforcement when I was a young adult. And as I grew older and changed careers, married, started a family, he was my closest confidant.

I spent a week in Florida helping my step-mother with arrangements and taking care of whatever tasks I could, before his service (on my birthday, unfortunately) where I gave a sketch of his life. I was a tad nervous, but it went well. I’m posting excerpts of it below.

“My father was born in 1950, in Ocala, Florida. He had a brother, Robby, who was seven years younger.  Because of that age difference, they weren’t that close as kids, but they would later become the closest of friends.

“My father had an extremely modest upbringing, living in a two-room home with no running water, that he later helped his father expand to include two enclosed bedrooms and a bathroom.  What his family may have lacked in wealth, they made up for in love. His parents were extremely practical and provided everything they could for my dad and his brother. In turn, the boys worked hard at home, studied diligently in school, and made their parents very proud. This set the tone for how both boys would live their entire lives.

“Roy attended Ocala High School, working at Silver Springs park during the summers, manning the concession stands to earn and save money.

“It was a swimming scholarship to Georgia Southern University that allowed my father to earn a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice, becoming the first person in his family to attend college.

“Returning home after graduation, he applied to work at the Marion County Sheriff’s Office, but was told he didn’t meet the height and weight requirements; it was 1972 — a very different time — and physical size was a prioritized skill in deputies and police officers back then.

“My father, determined to be part of the criminal justice system, settled into a job as a juvenile probation officer at the State of Florida, a position that brought him to the Jacksonville office.  And it was there he met a woman who had just moved from Titusville, also for job opportunities, a single mother who had recently arrived with her two-year-old son.  She and my dad started dating, eventually married, and shortly thereafter, he adopted me.

“While at the State, my father took a new role as a child abuse investigator, and decided he wanted to help children and families that were dealing with crises.  He took night classes at the University of North Florida, earning a master’s degree in counseling in 1980. He was a therapist at the Mental Health Resource Center, later managing their beaches office, and was eventually the director of their geriatric treatment center. He joined University Hospital as the program supervisor of the children’s crisis stabilization unit. 

“My dad maintained his therapist license ever since, it was an accomplishment and a part of his identity of which he was very proud. 

“While working for University Hospital, one of his responsibilities was overseeing the jail’s inpatient psych ward, where he decided to revisit his dream of being in law enforcement. He applied for and was accepted into the police academy, graduating in 1988 and joining the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office, where he would make his career through the rest of his life. 

“My father was a persistent influence in my childhood. He pushed me to study hard, make good decisions, and treat people with respect. He was at every single baseball game, even through the first couple years when I spent a lot of time just sitting on the bench. And I know it was hot in the stands.

“He and my mother divorced and he later married his second wife, Teri. She was also a police officer and had a little boy named Brandon, who dad also adopted. They visited Ukraine in 1997 where they adopted my sister, Victoria. Four years later, they had my youngest sister, Allison. 

“Once again, finding himself wrangling young kids, Dad was there every time — at every cub scout meeting, cheer competition, every school event or field trip.  When he would chaperone a field trip, his assigned group of kids knew they would have someone to ride the rides or climb on playground equipment with them.  He didn’t just stand around and watch. And you’d better believe that little group was inevitably going to stop at an ice cream booth at some point during the day, so Dad could buy them all a cone.

“He also found himself playing therapist to adolescents again — whether it was dealing with a bad day of cheer competition by reminding Tori that some days would be bad, but there would be good days around the corner too, or telling his kids that if they tried their best on a test, he was proud of them regardless of how they did. 

“In 2009, Dad and Laura married in a private ceremony with family and some close friends. She had two sons, Carl and Jeremy; Dad’s clan continued to grow. 

“Since then, Dad retired from working full time in 2013.  He welcomed his first grandchild — my son — in 2014, a second in 2017, a third in 2018, and a fourth in March of this year.  It was never really a secret to any of us which grandchild was Dad’s favorite — it was very clearly the one that had his attention at that given moment. And you could see it in his eyes.

“As Dad began to take more time to relax, he enjoyed traveling.  He and Laura went to the Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge areas each year.  When possible, they’d swing through North Carolina and see my kids.  They recently took a trip with Sandra and Jerry, friends here at the church, to the Colonial areas of Williamsburg and Jamestown in Virginia.  He talked about it to me on the phone, and I could tell he really enjoyed the history there.  He was the vice-president of the local Triumph club, where he and Laura enjoyed making new friends and he could show off his 1967 Triumph GT-6, that he’d constantly tinkered with for more than 35 years.

“Dad and I talked increasingly often after I returned home from college, started my professional life, married, and eventually had kids. But he would become a frequent sounding board over the more recent years, especially as I became a new father, looking to him for advice.  Tori has often said she thought he hung the moon and stars; she views him as the bar she strives for now, as she learns to be a parent to her new daughter.

“My dad was definitely growing older the last few years.  We would often commiserate about how much our bodies ached.  We were both definitely slowing down.  He started wearing a hearing aid a few years back.  He may have found it harder to hear, but he still found it easy to listen.  Tori would come to him with her problems, and he would always ask her first, do you want me to talk or just listen?  He never really stopped being a therapist even when also being a dad.

“My uncle Robby — Dad’s younger brother — passed away around Christmas this year, and my Dad stayed by his side in hospice for days.  The brothers had become so close as adults, fishing regularly, sharing Robby’s collection of motorcycles, or attending Carr family reunions in Georgia.  Looking back at when my grandparents passed away, his mother when I was in my twenties, his father a few years ago, even my younger brother in 2018, my dad always tried to be the strong one.  It got more difficult each time.  And after his brother, I had a few calls with Dad in which I found myself playing the therapist.  It’s a lot harder than I realized.  And I’m glad he was the one that was willing to do it all those years, even when his own loss was immense. 

“Many of you have interacted with my dad over the years, as a friend, in the mental health community, keeping our city safe as police officers, or perhaps as you worshiped your faith with him here in this church.  He was a neat, caring, and unique man who touched a lot of people’s lives, and I hope this has helped you have a better picture of who he was, and how much he cared about the people around him.

“He would have scolded all of you for coming today, since he’s sure you had other things you needed to do. That’s just how he was.  But he secretly would have been totally overwhelmed by how many of you are here, and warmed that you loved him back.“