Paul Franklin McDonald

Brief Bio: BORN: March 12, 1938 DIED: April 10, 2007 INTERRED: Cremated, no burial AGE: 69 FAVORITE FOOD: Steak and Potatoes FAVORITE DRINK: A nice cold beer FAVORITE MOVIES: Biographies/Historical FAVORITE MUSIC: Country HOBBIES: Building things and working on his yard

Gallery Links: PAUL'S PHOTO GALLERY

Paul is survived by:
Wife Joan
Son Barry and Daughter-in-Law Janet
Brothers Harold and Austin
Sister Margie
Granddaughter Brandi
Great Granddaughter Ivy Marie
Great Grandsons Dominic and Braeden
Numerous nieces, nephews and cousins

Well, where does one start when relating the memories of the man that raised him from birth? Your father, your dad. I guess I can start by saying that I loved my father with all of my heart and all of my soul. When you lose a parent, or anyone for that matter, it is comforting to know that you are going to lose them ahead of time, to have the time to prepare yourself, to brace for the shock. I had just sat down with my wife about a week before this loss and had a conversation about this very thing. We spoke about the fact that our parents werent getting any younger and that within the next 20 to 30 years it was inevitable, and that we should start to prepare ourselves for this time. Sadly, as with my son and grandsons, I was'nt afforded that one small comfort. My mother called me on the 12th of April 2007 and gave me the news that my dad was gone. For me, there was no warning, no notice that he might be sick. He had been in a hospital in Cleveland, Ohio for the last 5 weeks getting a throat cancer taken care of. He felt that there was no need to worry me about it, that he would fill me in when he got home. For my father, there was never any reason to worry anyone about anything.

As I sit here remembering the man that is my father, I can't help but feel that it is all some sort of bad joke. My fathers wishes were to be cremated and no services, nothing, he didnt want any fuss. Not fair I say! Wheres the closure? Wheres the final farewell to a man who spent his entire life working to make life easier for my mother and me? This is it? Just a simple "your father is gone" and go on with life as if he never existed? Thats it? No funeral? No celebration of life? No anything? Draw the curtains, everything is over, everyone just go home! No final goodbye, no final I love you. Just a phone call.

My father was a good man and my memories of him go on and on. All the times playing catch, swimming in a swimming hole in Tennessee, getting an ice cream cone in the summer, vacations, 4th of July, Christmas, working on the house, the lawn, planting trees, laying my head on his lap and falling to sleep on a long trip, his cologne, his pick up truck, on and on and on. It's all I have now, memories. Memories and a deep pain in my heart and a feeling of loss that I jsut can't seem to get a hold of. Wheres the closure?