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Hello everyone. My name is Will and I had the tremendous privilege of calling Ron Sickles, grandpop, for the past 27 years. It is an honor for me to speak on his behalf but first I want to truly thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart for being here today. It means the world to me and my family so thank you.

My grandfather was, is and forever will be my hero, my inspiration and my guiding star. There are so many moments that I could share and yet my mind kept coming back to one thing. He was a true gentleman..... a gentleman…A gentle man. Sometimes I think that term has lost its value in today's world. To not only have the qualities of a man, but to conduct yourself with virtue and grace. In the good times and perhaps more importantly in the bad. And based on that definition my grandfather is not only the truest gentleman but also the greatest man I have ever met. Because he never tried to prove he was. He didn’t need to. He lived it. Every single day. He never had to raise his voice, and yet you always listened to what he said. He never had to act tough and yet you knew his strength and what he had been through. He never looked down on anyone and yet everyone seemed to look up to him. He was, as Marcus Aurelius put it , the rock along the ocean that remained unphased by any wave or storm that came across him. The storms and waves wash away, revealing the rock unchanged.

Since my grandfather’s passing I have thought a lot about the idea of how he faced death. How he made peace with this chapter after fighting for so long. And I have no doubt that when death came to bring my grandfather home, Grandpop greeted it the same way he treated everyone else in his life, with a smile on his face and kindness in his heart and with a warm handshake that said you are my friend. And that's why, while I am devastated that he is gone and I would give everything in this world for more time with him. All I can really feel today is proud. Proud of a man who did it right. Proud of a man who lived a life of character and morality. A man who never let the winds of life change how he sailed his ship. A man who I aspire to be even a faction of. Always humble and kind.

And so, Grandpop, we thank you for every single second. Enjoy your rest, and we know we'll see you again a little ways down the road. We are eternally proud of you and we all love you. And to nana, thank you for being with grandpop every step of the way. Thank you for keeping the faith no matter how hard things got. And most importantly thank you for choosing, as you put it , that cute quiet boy in Matawan all those years ago. We love you endlessly.

Thank you very much.

I was driving on 1-95 when I got the call my grandfather passed. With still about 40 minutes left in my commute, I used that time the only way I knew how, to reflect, to process, to pray, and to plan.

What to do now? After this drive? After today? After the services? What is there to do when struck with so much grief. Where am I and his family and friends to put all the love they hold for him?

Well, as most of you know, 22-year-olds are known for their maturity and their decision making skills. With this known fact, I thought the only logically and non-impulsive choice was to get a tattoo for him. Immediately. To memorialize him. To try and keep him with me forever. Because that's totally what he would have wanted.

But as I drove I thought - How do you summarize a life? How you do memorialize 81 years well and truly lived?

How do I capture the dedication of his trade, the strength of his marriage, the vibrance of his children and grandchildren. How do you capture his quiet but consistent presence that never failed to make you feel secure and safe? Or the compassion and pride he instilled when he shook your hand or called you kid affectionately, or the perfect timing of his wit and the depth of his knowledge. Such a life well spent, well loved, 59 years of marriage to the love of his life and the light of his soul, 2 children, 5 grandchildren, countless trips, miles spent and memories grown?

Words continuous fall flat, and never seem sufficient to express the type of man my grandfather was. The best I could find was that He was Sui generis - Latin, meaning one of a kind in a way that makes language feel small. Unique. In a class of his own.

Well I decided a tattoo wasn't permanent enough for me. To my grandmother’s relief, stead of ink, I will act in my grandfather’s memory, and I invite you all to do the same. It's really quite simple:

Love passionately, speak softly, but sincerely, dedicate time with patience and grace, and support those you love through resilient action and you may find little need for words.

Embrace what you love, even if others can't understand the beauty of adding peanut butter to everything. Create time for your passions, whether that be practicing guitar, tinkering with trains, or boating on the coast.

And most importantly, treat those you care for most with other centeredness. Oh, and Don't hesitate to hum a tune even - if you hum out of key.

Someone once said if you are nervous about public speaking just picture your audience in their underwear... They probably weren't at a church funeral.

Sorry, in addition to many other things, I got my sense of humor from my dad.

Legendary North Carolina State basketball coach Jim Valvano said you should do three things every day. "You should laugh every day. You should think. Spend some time in thought. And you should have your emotions moved to tears. If you can laugh, think and cry that's a full day. That's a heck of day." You might see me have a full day right here in the next few minutes. We've had a lot of full days recently. Thank you all for helping us through these full days by offering prayers, thoughts, remembrances, hugs, food and being here.

I remember my dad coming home from work one day telling us how they spent the day doing team building exercise. Divided into groups they had to work with their peers to solve various problems that became increasingly complex and stressful. After each exercise, a co-worker would provide feedback about what they liked and disliked about working with the members of their group. One woman said what she liked about working with Ron was that when things got difficult and stressful and she wanted to scream, Ron remained calm, cool, and collected. What she didn't like about working with Ron was that when things got difficult and stressful and she wanted to scream, Ron remained calm, cool and collected. The man was consistent.

Now I realize that consistent isn't one of those glowing words you typically hear in a eulogy. But for a mechanical engineer this is high praise. It's what engineers strive for. Consistent results, consistent data, consistent performance. But what made my dad special is the other words added after consistent. Consistent husband, providing other-centered love, support and laughter to my mom through an incredible marriage that lasted over 59 years. Consistent father, always putting us first and providing us with values, structure, discipline (which I was more often on the receiving end than my sister) and anything else we could have hoped or asked for from a father. Consistent teacher including lessons in simple life skills like throwing and catching, tying a tie, parallel parking and sailing. But more importantly teaching by example the importance of honesty, faith, hard work, accountability and helping others. Consistent parishioner of this church for over 50 years. He served as an elder, a deacon, a commissioner of buildings and grounds, a greeter, an usher, a lay reader and a bell ringer. Pretty much anything that was asked of him except sing in the choir. And for that we can all give thanks. True story, he once knocked out his front tooth with a hammer while on a ladder hanging a Christmas wreath and didn't even stop until all the holiday decorations were done. It was the third time he had knocked out the same tooth, previously playing football and tennis. He was even consistent when knocking his teeth out.

For many years we took family vacations to Cape Cod. My mom in the passenger seat shuffling through a stack of 8-track tapes playing DJ as we took turns selecting music and dad drove. Kim and I would pick something modern and hip like the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever. Mom would then choose between Johnny Mathis, Mac Davis or Anne Murray. Then we would all brace for dad's selection deep from the country archives of Roy Clark, the Oakridge Boys or Alabama. We would cringe and suffer through what we thought was awful music. Ironically, over time we have all learned to like and appreciate country music. Maybe because many of the lyrics align with my father's beliefs about God, family, love, good friends and cold beer. Which is why these lyrics from a country song by Luke Combs provide me with such comfort and strength today.

Just 'cause I'm leavin' 

It don't mean that I won't be right by your side When you need me

And you can't see me in the middle of the night Just close your eyes and say a prayer

It's okay, I know you're scared when I'm not here But I'll always be right there

Even though I'm leavin', I ain't goin' nowhere

I know my father will always be with me. And I hope you all keep a part of my father with you and feel the strength, love and comfort he so uniquely and humbly provided.

I'll close with a thought from Canadian Psychologist Jordan Peterson. Dr. Peterson said "you should be the strongest person at your father's funeral. That's something to aim for. While all the people around you are suffering because of their loss they have someone to turn to who can illustrate by their behavior that the force of character is sufficient to move you beyond the catastrophe. And be the person who will say, we will get through this."

Now I cannot stand here in the same room as my mother and my sister and claim to be the strongest person here. Mom, thank you for your strength and commitment and for all that you did to give us more time with dad. And Kim, thank you for being the one that always showed up, regardless of day or time, to provide care, love and support. Knowing that you were there, not only provided them but also me with tremendous comfort.

So, I may not be the strongest person, but I will be the one that stands here and say that with the strength he has given us and the support that all of you continue to provide, we WILL get through this.

Dad, I thank you, I love you and I will keep you with me forever..

Thank you all for being here today-for the outpouring of love, support, and FOOD. The kindness you've shown my family this week has meant more than we can express, and it stands as a powerful reminder of how far my dad's legacy has truly reached.

Anyone who has lost a parent, knows there is a numbness and a stillness that comes with the loss, that is so profound, you can't find the words. And for those of you who know me and my "gift of gab", you will be grateful for that today.

Today, I want to share some of my memories about my dad that speak to the man he was:

My dad loved peanut butter-not so much in candy or as a flavor, but straight from the jar. The twist: he didn't like, condiments like ketchup, mustard, or mayo (a trait I inherited); peanut butter was his condiment of choice. A steak and cheese sandwich-with peanut butter. Sloppy joes-with peanut butter, tuna sub with peanut butter...(thankfully, I did NOT inherit this trait).

My dad was a gifted MONOTONE singer. Loud, soft, fast, slow... didn't matter, he could only produce one note. Those of you who sat near him here in church through the years can affirm this. Yes?

As a child, it was difficult to get me to sleep at night so a bedtime routine evolved. One night, my grandmother, returning from a trip in Hawaii, rocked me and sang Tiny Bubbles by Don Ho. Magically, I fell right to sleep. So every night thereafter, my dad would sing Tiny Bubbles with the same effect. And I don't just mean as an infant, I mean up until I was at least 3 years old, carried over his shoulder, back and forth across the floor. And while this may sound endearing, remember, he was monotone. So I've decided it was actually an act of self-defense: I fell asleep to avoid listening to his singing.

My dad had the patience of a Saint, on so many occasions, but most especially with my art projects. Dad was an engineer, organized, meticulous, and precise. I was a creative spirit, not so organized - and I often sprang last-minute projects on him, requesting his mechanical help to execute my vision. Some days he even had to drive me to school with a project that was still drying in the back seat.

As an adult, he was my go-to for countless home improvement projects. Together we would fix, build, paint... l learned so much from him and these times. Working side by side with him, created some of my favorite memories with him.

Sickles always have an "Open Door" philosophy which started with my dad's parents. Create a home where ALL are welcome, ANYTIME, and always keep some food on hand to share. My parents hosted so many dinners and parties through the years, but the really special times were when my friends just came to hang out. Dad was always there to greet them in his quiet way with a genuine smile. My friends to this day refer to my parents as "Mom and Dad" which really means the world to me.

My favorite memory was New Year's Eve 1989, when my parents let my brother and I host a party for 30+ kids. We were allowed to drink that night, which was an exception to my parents' rules. However, everyone who came, had to sleep over. For anyone who is a parent, imagine more than 30 "spirit-filled" kids on all 3 levels of the house, all night... impressive or insane, you decide. My dad faced many health challenges throughout his life. Cardiac and kidney disease, a transplant, dialysis, and most recently, macular degeneration that left him with extremely limited eyesight. Over the past several years, he endured more medications, doctor's appointments and hospital stays, but he NEVER, EVER complained. I affectionately started to refer to him as "airport luggage" because he just kept taking the beatings, and going around the carousel. One day as I sat with him in the hospital, yet again, I asked him if he was doing OK, (emotionally). He replied: you play the hands you're dealt, you know that kid. The moment was so profound to me. It was not a complaint, there was no self pity, and it acknowledged the struggles that I myself had faced. It was a gentle reminder: Don't waste energy on things you can't change.

My dad was an extraordinary man-my hero then, now, and always. Those who had the privilege of knowing him have shared messages that affirm what I've always known: he was kind, a gentleman, funny; generous with his time and spirit; always ready to help; and deeply faithful.

He was an incredible grandpop to his five grandchildren. He gave each of them the same patience and dedication-nurturing their creativity, cheering on their athletic pursuits, teaching them practical skills, and loving them unconditionally. Above all, he was utterly devoted to my mom-the love of his life and his true soulmate. Their love story was remarkable and there is not enough time here today to speak to all of its beauty.

As I mentioned at the beginning, there has been a stillness since dad's passing, but it has made me more keenly aware. There was a beautiful sunrise the day he left us, the moon was bright that night, and every morning now I hear the birds usher in a new day. The void my dad leaves can never be filled, but in his spirit, I will always strive to be patient, resourceful, welcoming, kind and faithful. I won't waste energy on things I can't change. I will play my cards and ride the carosel. .. but I draw the line at the peanut butter thing!

I love you dad. Thank you for modeling such an exemplary life for all of us.

1. You can shed tears that he is gone or you can smile because he has lived.

2. You can close your eyes and pray that he'll come back or you can open your eyes and see all he's left.

3. Your heart can be empty because you can't see him or you can be full of the love you shared.

4. You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

5. You can remember him and only that he's gone or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back or you can do what he'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1 - 8

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance

5 a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

6 a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to throw away;

7 a time to tear, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

8 a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. 2ln my Father's house there are many mansions. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. 4And you know the way to the place where I am going.' 5 Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the

way?’ 6 Jesus said to him, 'I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

25 ‘I have said these things to you while I am still with you. 26 But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. 27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all

knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may

boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

4 Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant 5or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6it does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. 71t bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

8 Love never ends.

9 And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.