It has been almost a month since my father-in-law, Frank, passed away. Even though my only relation to him was via marriage into the family, he was still one of my favorite people I have ever known. Our trips to the farm in Iowa will never be the same anymore. I had the privilege of sharing at his funeral. Below is a written document of what I shared. We all still love and miss him.
If I were asked to write down a script describing the characteristics of the most ideal father-in-law, I would say sense of humor, highest quality of wisdom, uncompromising integrity, genuine love for people of all ages – especially his family, and a passionate faith in Jesus Christ. Frank Dagit fit these characteristics like a glove.
I have often heard Bev say about Becky, “She is her father’s daughter!” Like her dad, Becky is a straight shooter, has a sense of humor that can liven up any crowd and they are both avid Iowa Hawkeye fans. Becky and I will both miss the conversations during every Iowa game.
Beginning with his sense of humor, Frank had a fun way of teasing others. He was never too old to pull a prank on someone. One time while eating dinner at the farm, I made the mistake of turning my head to look for something. While my head was turned, Frank picked up a bottle of Tabasco Sauce and began pouring an excess amount onto my dinner. As I took my next bite, my face turned bright red. It took me about a half a second to realize what had happened and who was responsible for the burning sensation in my mouth.
Becky often shares the story when robbers were trying to break into their home. Ideally, one would think it might be best to leave some of the more dangerous activities to the police. Not Frank. He thought it would be better to catch the robbers. He was ready. He told the rest of this family to stay put upstairs. Of course, the driver in the car about a quarter mile up the road saw flashlights moving through the upstairs window, so he honked the horn, which signaled to the other robber to run out of the house and get away. You would think that would be enough. Everybody was safe and maybe now would be the right time to call the police and let them take it from there. No, Frank jumped in his pick up and chased after them.
Frank had a way of making friends. Everywhere we lived, Frank would meet someone and become a new best friend. 8 years ago, when we first moved to Michigan, Frank was taking a walk down our street. We had made the mistake of not giving him a curfew. When he returned home, Frank said, “Hey Becky, I met Duane.” Becky responded back, “Who’s Duane?” He said, “Your neighbor down the street. I saw a John Deere flag in his front yard, so I went up and knocked on his door. We’ve been talking for the last hour.” Duane became an instant friend, not only for Frank, but also for Becky and I.
Frank’s friends included people of all ages. He loved everyone, regardless of age. He had the kind of integrity where one could leave him a blank check and trust he would take honest care of it. He would never be able to live with himself if he felt like he was taking advantage of someone. If there was ever a person in need, Frank and Bev would be the first people there. He was the kind of friend, as the scripture says, “would lay down his life for…” Over the last three days I have heard many people say, “We don’t know where we would be if it hadn’t been for Frank and Bev.”
His grandkids were one of his greatest treasures. We lived in California when our daughter Hannah was born. Upon arriving in California, Frank had a cold. It was killing him not to be able to hold his newborn Granddaughter. He was overanxious to get healthy enough to hold her. I remember him saying, “Once I shake this thing, she’s all mine.” Often our son, Jacob, who has autism, would say to us, “Call Papa!” We would hand him the phone. As soon as Frank would answer it, Jacob would say, “Papa sing the bunny song!” (a song from the Veggie Tales DVD series) Frank would still sing, even if he were with some of his friends. It was always followed with much laughter and joy. Why? He was talking with one of his greatest treasures.
What I loved best about Frank was his faith. Whenever I read about the faith of a farmer in the scriptures, I think of Frank. When I was a youth pastor, I would always have him come and share with our group about his experience in Alaska. He would bring his walking stick, which he found in the middle of the tundra with no trees for miles, after he sprained his ankle. He prayed and asked God for help. Later on that same evening, Frank was with a group of people that did not know where there location was because of a heavy fog. He prayed and asked God to help them see which direction they needed to go. The fog lifted for about 10 seconds, which was just enough time for them to see the lights where they were lodging. Frank said, “I just looked up to God and said, ‘Thanks!’ That’s really all I needed to say.”
Three days ago, at the house, I heard a gentlemen talking about Frank lifting weights with a group of young guys. He said he heard him talking about his faith in Jesus Christ. That was what was most important to him. Frank had a simple, but very real faith.
When I married Becky, I did not choose for Frank and Bev to be my in-laws. I would have married her regardless. Then again, God in His goodness takes care of us by bringing people into our lives who are there for a purpose. I thank God Beverly Dagit is my mother-in-law. And, I thank God Frank Dagit always has and always will be my father-in-law.
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