On Tuesday, December 11th at 7pm we had a service and celebration of my father’s life. It was a bit different than many wakes or services but, then again, my dad wasn’t a man that needed things to be traditional. All six of us “kids” along with my mother, our pastor and the elders of the church spoke about my father.I had hoped that the service was recorded but unfortunately it wasn’t. I can’t remember everyone else’s speech but here are the words I felt to speak for him:
“I guess I have to go first because I’m the first born and you really don’t have a choice.
I tried to write what I was going to say about my father because I’m a writer by nature but no words seemed good enough. What could you write about a man that was your hero? Nothing seemed good enough.
My father and I had an interesting relationship.
Did you ever take two of the same sides of a magnet and push them together? It won’t work because they’re the same and actually repel each other. We were so similar that we would actually irritate each other. He thought I hated him and I thought he hated me but it was just the opposite. We loved each other so much but couldn’t communicate it. For about ten years we struggled in our relationship. I wasn’t the easiest child and took a lot more sanding down than the others but when I got older I started to realize that the way my father loved me was the same way God loved me.
My father was slow to speak, really slow, sometimes he wouldn’t say anything at all. He was slow to get angry, you could jump on his his back 14,000 times and nothing. I mean, when he did get angry you needed to clear the room but it wasn’t often. And he loved us so much. Every time his children or my mom would walk into a room his whole face would light up. It didn’t matter what he had faced that day the minute he saw you all that would go away.
Daddy, I want to thank you for giving me the best gift you could have ever given me. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”
Everyone’s words that night revealed a legacy of a man that was full of love, ambition, talent and strength. He was a man that left his mark on everyone who knew him. I truly am grateful that I can call Giulio Vinci my father and that I have a part of him in me. He really is one of my hero’s, I just wish I had been able to tell him that when he was alive but maybe when I see him again I can let him know…
Becoming Invincible 