This is the speech I gave at my dad's service. I've had a few people interested in reading it so I thought this would be the best place to post it. 

Ricky T. Olson

6/11/1952 – 2/6/2020

My dad, Rick, was a giant teddy bear of a man; he had a big voice, gave great big bear hugs and could grow a beard better than anyone. He had a big personality and was often the life of the party. He was a good man with a big heart, everybody’s friend. He had an easy smile and a great laugh.

Like his dad, brother and several other relatives he worked in the lumber industry for most of his adult life. He was a Millwright which suited his mechanical mind well.

He loved Birthdays and holidays, and really any opportunity to get together with family. German Chocolate cake and Rocky Road ice cream were his favorites.

He had a very annoying way of waking us up in the mornings. In a sing-songy voice he would say “Jeana…wake up… Rise and Shyne.” When I’d hear him approaching my door I would yell “I’m up! I’m UP! DON’t say it!!!” And on Sundays when it was time to leave for church he would walk around yelling, “Out the door, out the DOOR!!!” I guess it was hard to get his wife, two teenage girls, and a toddler out the door for church because we were always late.

He was not perfect, none of us are, but he was my dad. I love him and I miss him. I’ve been mourning this version of my dad for more than 10 years.

I often think of Dementia as the long goodbye.

After the doctors figured out the cause of my dads decline, Lewy Body Dementia, I got to know a new version of him.

This man, who wanted to be called “Ricky,” was no longer mechanically minded, he couldn’t solve problems, he didn’t care for chocolate and he was rather quiet and dare I say shy.

This man was sweet. Everyone that met him wanted to take care of him. Ricky was kind with a big heart. He didn’t really like big crowds, but he loved being around family. His mechanical abilities and problem solving skills were among the first things to go. He never forgot people, but he forgot how to use the phone and the TV remote. He was a sweet little man. Old before his time. When he asked me how old he was, I would say how old do you feel? He would usually give me a number 10 to 20 years older than his actual age.

He was my Friday lunch buddy. He loved going out for Mexican food and fish and chips. He always wanted to order Mozzarella sticks and some sort of smoothy. He enjoyed nature documentaries and his favorite movie was Forest Gump. I think above all, though, his favorite pastime was going for long drives with the oldies cranked up on the radio. He had an uncanny sense of direction even after the dementia progressed. He would guide me to all kinds of places from his past in Lake Stevens, Marysville and Everett. He also enjoyed going to church in these later years and grew stronger in his faith.

I grew to enjoy our time together. Yes, he could be challenging, but he was always entertaining. He tried to stay positive about his situation and never lost his sense of humor. We had a lot of laughs together. When he passed I was closer to him than I had been in probably 30 years.

In his final days he put up a good fight. For a little while he wavered in and out of consciousness. I was only able to make out a few words here and there. When the nurse asked him who I was he said “Jeana Eve Olson Big Girl” which is what I used to tell people when I was little. And once he even sang “I’ve Been Working On The Railroad” to me, all of it.

He held on for quite some time baffling the nurses and doctors. We started to wonder what he was waiting for. All of his family had been to see him. We had said our goodbyes. We gave him permission to go. The chaplain paid him many visits. We anointed, read scripture, prayed for his comfort and forgiveness.

When he finally did pass on February 6th, my aunt Pat called and reminded us that Grandpa Roy’s birthday was February 6th, as soon as she said that I knew!!!

I said, “Isn’t he the grandpa that died on June 11th, DAD's birthday? I knew that bothered him because he brought it up a few times.

Dad died on the birthday of the grandpa that died on dad’s birthday.

After hearing this story people usually ask me if I really think my dad remembered his grandpa’s birthday? To that I say NO! I absolutely do not think my dad remembered his grandpa’s birthday.

I think that in my dad’s final days the Olson men (Grandpa Roy, Grandpa Don and his brother Jerry) were there to greet him. I bet one of the first things my dad probably said to grandpa Roy was “Why did you have to go and die on my birthday?”

I imagine grandpa Roy saying something like “sorry kid it couldn’t be helped.” My birthday is coming up though. Wouldn’t it be wild if? Oh, but you couldn’t possibly.”

To that I could hear my dad saying “watch me.”

Rise and Shine Dad. I love you!