{William McDermott}

So, things have been a little crazy around here and I would be remiss not to mention the passing of my grandpa, "daddy-daddy." Daddy-daddy had a severe stroke 6.5 years ago that completely changed his life. He wasn't able to ever walk again and speech was extremely limited. He lived the next 6.5 years in a bed or chair, having constant care from health workers and family. Sometimes it was hard to remember what he was like before that all happened.
The funeral was such a beautiful tribute to the man he was. It was great to see all of my family there. All the cousins flew in and we had quite a reunion. It was the first time in years that everyone was together. It was a sad, but good day.

There are several things about my Daddy-Daddy that made him special and unique. Some things that stand out in my mind are,

He liked to collect newspapers and would get really, really, really mad if you threw them out. I remember lots of arguments with my Grandma on this subject

He was a softy and would always help everyone, the down and out in the neighborhood, the widows. He would buy groceries and leave them for people. I remember him giving my family groceries and I remember him giving odd jobs to people in need in the neighborhood. Sometimes those people were scary, but he still helped them out.

He liked all natural remedies, and would try to make me drink Noni Juice and Collodial Silver.

The bug zapper in the backyard.

He liked to talk and make friends. It would take him 3 hours to grocery shop.

Family get-together's (9 kids, 41 grandchildren...big family).

Timing how long I had washed my hands.

Scraping the wax off of apples with a knife.

He gave Scott (much to the embarrassment of Scott and probably my dad, if he knew) a "talk", you know, "the talk" when we got married.

He always had raspberry yogurt pops in the freezer.

Peeling an orange in one, continuous strip.

Making you jiggle the handle of the toilet so it wouldn't run.

He was very vocal during sports games. I never witnessed this first hand, but the stories are legendary.

He was severely injured in WWII, and had holes in his body, which changed how he walked and limited his ability to run, dance and play sports.

He loved his family.

My grandma yelling, BILL!!!!

Crazy driving.

4th of July Fireworks and the Fair at Jordan Park.

He was passionate about politics, health and conspiracy theories.

He loved homemade ice-cream and I do too.

One of my favorite stories that came out of the funeral was when he was with my Uncle and a man asked him if he could spare some change for a "poor, black man". My grandpa replied that he didn't see a poor, black man. He saw a man. That brought the tears. So did the military roll car at the grave site. I have never witnessed that before.

Here is his obituary for anyone interested.