It's been about a month since I last posted anything.
People have been asking about the eulogy I gave for my dad, so I am sharing it here.
I hope it's as meaningful to you as it is to me.

Words of Thanks

Thank you Father Rob and Father Prince.

Thank you choir and thank you church ladies who will be serving us at the reception across the street later.

Thank you John Edwards and the workers at St. Felix Cemetery.

Thank you Doug Penning and your staff at Abbott’s Funeral Home. 

Thank you to the staff at Mayo Hospice. 

Thank you to my brother, Brandon, and his family for getting our dad home. 

But most of all, on behalf of my mom and dad, thank you to all the family and friends whose love and support has been absolutely overwhelming and extremely humbling. 

It will not be forgotten. 

I’m going to try to talk about my dad now.

I’m probably going to struggle.

But be patient,

Give me a moment to catch my breath,

I have my dad’s determination to do this.

Ron Stamschror Eulogy

·      Ron Stamschror was not my father…he was my dad.

·      Some of you may know what I am talking about, others of you may not.

·      Regardless, I would like to tell you the story of how Ron Stamschror became my dad.

·      After getting shot down during his first tour in Viet Nam, he returned to Fort Wolters, Texas where he was flying a desk while recovering from his burns.

·      One evening, my mom and her friend were cruising up and down South Main, as the young people still do in Weatherford, Texas.

·      My mom’s friend starting talking to a guy and he suggested they go get his friend so they could cruise the strip together.

·      They went to a brown shingled apartment building next to Gibson’s grocery store.

·      The guy went up to get his friend and he came back down stairs with a dark-haired handsome man, wearing a burnt orange shirt and striped pants, holding a glass of milk in one hand and a hamburger made with sliced bread in the other.  That was my dad.

·      They talked about whose car they were going to go cruising in and my dad suggested they take his 70 and ½ Chevy Camaro that he had just gotten.

·      My mom, who to this day still likes driving fast cars, asked if she could drive his car…he said no.

·      At the end of the evening my dad mentioned he had to go to Fort Worth the next day to get the correct plates for his car and asked this hot blonde chick, that was my mom, if she wanted to ride along.

·      She said he could pick her up tomorrow, but she had something to show him first.

·      My dad arrived the next day to pick her up, but standing next to her was a blonde toddler in bib overalls.

·      She said, pointing to the child, “This is what I wanted to show you.”

·      He said, “Cute, what’s her name.”

·      She said, “His name is Brian, he is my son, and if he doesn’t go, I don’t go.”

·      To which he said, “Let’s go then, I like kids, I have 9 younger brothers and sisters.”

·      Not long after that, despite my mom not being Catholic and having a kid, he married her and in doing so, he became my Dad.

·      When my mom eventually told me he wasn’t my biological father and he had adopted me, I just shrugged my shoulders like it was no big deal and said, “He’s still my Dad.”

·      I don’t ever remember a time when he was not my dad.
 

·      When I was 6 or 7 years-old we lived in Kansas and my dad got me a horse.

·      How he got me that horse is one example of the amazing things he could do.

·      Story has it, that near the farm where we lived was a ranch with a herd of Shetland ponies.

·      My dad went up to the rancher and asked if he could buy one for his son.

·      The rancher laughed and said, “Heck, if you can catch one of those wild things you can keep it.”

·      My dad asked me which one I wanted and I pointed out a sorrel pony.

·      And like a real-life cowboy, my dad went out in that pasture with a lasso and caught my horse, Sally Ann.

·      I believed then, just as much as I did last week, that my dad could do anything.

·      If it was broken, my dad could fix it.

·      If you needed something built, my dad could make it.

·      If you needed to learn something, my dad could show you how.

·      Seven years ago, I met a lady and just like my mom, she had a toddler.

·      Like my dad, I also married the hot chick and that toddler now calls me “Dad.”

·      And like my dad, we are trying to give her the Stamschror name.

·      While I will never measure up to my dad,

·      When my kids bring me something broken, I try to fix it;

·      When they need something built, I try to make it, and;

·      When they need to learn something, I try to teach them.

·      Because that’s what my role model did;

·      Because that’s what my hero did;

·      Because that’s what my dad did and I’m going miss him.