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Words of Remembrance

Words of Rememberance Days 172 - 177 Thursday- Saturday Sept 7-16, 2017 Zero Miles

Mom and Dad - May you both Rest In Peace. 

These past two weeks off trail have flown by. I can barely remember what I have done, the people I have seen and the tasks we have accomplished. It truly has been a whirlwind as my family has struggled with the passing of our Dad. We have exhibited strength beyond comprehension for each other. Today we said our final farewell to a great man. Instead of rewriting a post for today I am just going to post what the family wrote to be read at his funeral Mass. "Words of Rememberance Reginald “Buddy” Euclid Theriault Good Morning Everyone. Thank you all for coming to share in the Life of Reginald Theriault aka “Buddy”. He was a wonderful son, husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, brother, uncle, cousin, and friend. As we are gathered here today our hearts are filled with sorrow, but let us not dwell on the pain of his passing, rather turn our thoughts to the fond memories each and every one of us has of Dad. He was an army 1st Sergeant and very proud to serve his country. Dad never talked much about his time in the service and was very humble about his achievements. As proud as he was of his country he was most proud of his family. He loved watching and bragging about our academic, sports, career and familial successes. He loved his family and friends with his whole heart and sole. It’s what he lived for. Dad was most happy creating memories with family and friends whether it was hunting, fishing, sports, family reunions, or any other way he spent his time with his loved ones. If he wasn’t creating memories he was retelling stories of those times. Dad will always be known for the best darn bait in the state of Maine. Fishermen from all over would make a trip to Bud’s Bait Shop to buy Red Fins or Goldens. Some of the best life lessons we kids learned were from Dad while running the bait shop. If chiseling ice, hauling water, and sorting smelts didn’t keep us busy enough, Dad opened a green house. He went from fish to flowers. And what amazing plants he would grow! He loved to show them off. Sometimes it seemed like he really new each individual plant. He probably even gave them names. Then when he could no longer physically run the bait shop or the greenhouse he took up the art of silk flower arrangements. Which was ironic because during his greenhouse days he cursed fake flowers. He soon learned how much fun it was to create masterpieces like none other as you can see by the beautiful bouquets here. This became his passion and joy in his later years. He would stock pile coupons from JoAnn Fabric, ACMoore and Hobby Lobby where he spent a small fortune on silk flowers and vases, only to give them away. One of his last words of wisdom was, “To give someone a flower, is… to give someone a flower.” A simple yet profound statement. As much as Dad loved his hobbies, he loved telling stories even more. He could talk for hours with the greatest of detail. Many times we would hear the same story year after year. On behalf of the family, in honor of Dad, the great storyteller, we’d like to share a few stories with you. Unlike Dad’s, whose stories never seemed to end, I will be brief. The first is related to Dad and his checkbook. As you know, Dad was an Army 1st Sergeant. That means that everything he did was done correctly without error. His checkbook was just that, without error. Until anyone of us kids putt our paws in it. We all have had our turn at messing up his balance by either writing in the wrong total of a check we’d written, yes, several of us knew how to sign his name, or forgetting to give him a receipt when we used his debit card. The best time we used his card was when Becky graduated with her Master’s in Georgia. Dad was unable to make the trip but John and I did. He sent me with his credit card for us to take Becky out to eat to a nice place. That we did!!! What we didn’t know at the time was just how nice the place was until the bill came. Ooops, sorry Dad! Our house was made of 4 seasons, bait season which came twice a year, flower season, and hunting season, the time for camp. November meant fluorescent orange. Some of our fondest memories and lessons where made in the woods. Each one of us kids and even a few grandkids can share a memory related to camp. Each story having a common theme of being in the woods with Dad or Pappy and we either tripped over a log, fell in the stream, fell off an ATV, or some other action that may have caused bodily injury. What we heard from Dad was not words of concern for our well-being but rather, “Did you hit the scope?” We soon learned we’d heal but don’t you dare hit the scope. As harsh as that sounds it was a great lesson on taking care of your equipment. Sometimes no matter how careful you are things still go wrong with your gear. We all could share a similar bait shop story as well related to Dad’s razor sharp chisel and how we damaged it or even dropped it down the hole. Ask John about that one. Dad enjoyed so much about life, mostly the little things like having a nice meal at one of his favorite restaurants, especially Chase’s in Bangor on Wednesday’s all you can eat fish fry. Getting his parking spot at all the soccer games. Watching the Red Sox play. And his latest pastime of driving to the landing by his house several times a day just to watch the sunrise, the ducks and maybe a sunset. This last week was hard. I believe Dad knew he soon would be called home and those last days with him he was so full of stories with visitors and wisdom for us all. Before he could no longer speak, he had a moment and said, “Help me get up. I want to get up so I can see all of you. We’ve had our ups and down but we’ve learned how to love each other. We’ve learned how to be a family.” Another time he woke from his groggy sleep and said, “You build your future on your memories. It’s there you find answers to what you can’t figure out. Memories will heal a lot of problems.” In his final hours he was worried about us. Nothing can change the wonderful ways a father can enrich your life. He is strong when needed and soft and gentle also. He teaches you lessons by the way he lives and the way he loves. Grief and sadness cannot take away the good times. The pain, sorrow, and void left by his dying will fade away and will be replaced by our memories that will remain forever. And as one of Dad’s favorite songs says, “Somewhere over the rainbow blue birds fly….” Dad, our blue bird, fly, fly high over that rainbow and sing. We love you." It was a beautiful service. Thanks to all who helped make it possible and to all our family and friends who took time to visit. He is now in a better place looking down on us. He so wants Shortcake and I to finish the trail and we are going to do just that. Tomorrow we head back to the trail. Happy Hiking.  

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