Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Paul Murphy's Funeral Remarks Pt. 1
Ed Murphy Funeral - June 7, 2010
Thank you for joining in the celebration of the life of my dad. If you know my dad would not go to any celebration without a Diet Coke. Dad, this Diet Coke’s for you.
The story of my dad is a love story between him and my mom. They were together for 62 years and I don’t know of anyone who had a better marriage. I never heard my parents argue. I never heard my dad say a harsh word about my mother. I always saw that he put her interests first. I never, ever thought my parents would get a divorce. All the kids knew we were loved–but we knew mom came first. Ed Murphy–the world’s greatest lover and Ruth Murphy–the most loved woman in the world.
Growing up was really like an old sitcom —“Ozzy and Harriet” meets “Leave it to Beaver.” My mom said that she felt sorry for us because dad gave her everything but he expected the kids to work.
My dad liked to have a nice lawn and the kids were part of it. Norm, Lynn and maybe LeAnn helped level the yard with ropes and railroad ties. Carol and I did our part by sitting on the railroad ties for extra weight.
We all learned how to mow the lawn–twice. Vertically and horizontally once a week.
My dad also like his hankies and pillow covers ironed. It seemed like we ironed a thousand hankies and pillow covers every week.
But our dad sacrificed for us as well. He gave up a job promotion with J.C. Penney in Pittsburgh because he thought Utah would be a better place to raise kids. Last night I met the man who took that job and he said my dad was his first boss. He told me a story of how a fire broke out at J.C. Penney and since they couldn’t work my dad thought it would be a good idea to go golfing. When they got back everybody wanted to know why it took them so long to get back. My dad replied, “We didn’t know it would be a nine-hole fire.”
My dad continued to play golf and racquetball but he gave up hunting and fishing by the time I came around. The earth has more deers, ducks and fish thanks to this decision.
A few of us had nicknames. Dad called Carol “Pumpkin” and me “Pal.” Maybe he just didn’t remember our names.
We didn’t grow up with a lot but we never were without what we really needed. My dad was known to be “tight with money.” I would like to say he taught me the value of a dollar.
My sister LeAnn remembers that Dad would grill her before she borrowed the car. He wanted to know how far she would go and he would expect her to fill the tank back up where it was before she left. He would check the odometer and the gas gauge after every trip.
I remember going with him to the bank to get a loan for my college education. I was stunned when I walked out of the bank with a loan that had to be paid by me—not him. Guess when I started to care about my education.
Money was tight when both my brothers were on missions and so my mom went to work as a teacher. What she didn’t know is that dad put all of her earnings in savings. When they retired they used that money so they could both travel.
My dad knew about money because he grew up without it. His mother died when he was nine-months-old and he was raised with his cousin Charles by his Uncle Albert and Aunt Pearl. They were dirt poor and lived in the Uintah Basin. My dad always wanted a bicycle but never had enough money to buy one. He finally found an abandoned bicycle with flat tires. He couldn’t even afford to buy tire tubes so he stuffed the tires with rags and rode his bike as much as he could.
My dad and Charles were always looking for ways to have fun without money. They used to attach an electric magneto to a steel sheet and pour corn on it. The chickens would come eat the corn, my dad would turn on the electricity and the chickens would fly straight up to the heavens. PETA may not like this but I think I have a great idea for a video game.
One time my dad and Charles were asked to clean the kitchen. My dad washed the floor and then convinced Charles they should go play without drying the floor. He said the water would just evaporate. They came back and the floor was dry and my dad was able to say “I told you so.” Later they learned that Uncle Albert came home and mopped the floor dry.
My dad loved his aunt and uncle but he said the best day of his life was when he turned 18 so he could join the Air Force. My dad loved flying planes, serving his country and getting as far away as possible from the Uintah Basin.
My dad wasn’t afraid to discipline but I don’t remember him yelling at us to get better grades or to become better athletes. A simple “Good gosh Paul” was enough to know that my dad was mad. He allowed us to fail and to learn from our mistakes.
One year Carol and LeAnn learned the consequences of complaining about what they got or did not get for Christmas. That year they got stockings full of black coal and a poster with pictures of everything they asked for Christmas. After the shock wore off—they both got $20.
Carol remembers the worst thing she ever did was take dad’s car without asking. I’m not even going to begin to tell you my list of worst things. She said dad didn’t yell at her but he said, “I’ve always trusted you but now I’m losing my trust.” Carol said she never took the car again but she said she probably would have if dad screamed at her.
My dad was the same way at work. He was an accounting supervisor and he had to hire and fire lots of people. But mom says that people still liked him when he fired them because he told them they would be better off in a job where they could feel like they were being successful. He was always concerned about their feelings.
Dad didn’t talk much when we were growing up. Most of the kids really got to know him when we became adults. For several years my wife and I had a weekly Bible study with my parents so we could get to know them better. We learned about their lives and the lessons they learned.
My dad didn’t grow up going to church and the only reason he got baptized was so he could marry my mom. LeAnn says he used to sneak the kids to get ice cream in between church meetings.
My dad never wanted to talk in church and my mom convinced him that he would never be called. However, at the end of one ward conference my dad was called up to speak at the last minute. Mom said he spoke well but he was very brief. However, he never went to ward conference again.
I don’t remember my dad reading the scriptures or religious books so I was surprised by the depth of his answers when reading the Bible. There is a type of Bible study called exegesis which means you draw the meaning of the text objectively rather than relying on your own interpretations. While reading the Gospel of John he concluded, “Jesus is God. It’s pretty clear.”
The Bible study stopped after my dad stopped being able to talk because of his dementia. For awhile he could say yes or no but that was about it. However, three years ago my parents came to visit me in the hospital. I had a staph infection that was resistant to antibiotics. I had been screaming for days because of the pain and I asked my dad if he could give me a blessing. He then offered the most beautiful prayer I had ever heard. He was fully aware of everything that was happening to me and he prayed for my recovery. My mom came back to the bed and asked what had happened. I told her that dad had give me a blessing. She asked him what he said but my dad could no longer talk. For a few minutes the heavens opened and I heard my dad’s voice for the first time in years.
My dad was loved by the people who cared for him at Legacy House. Even though he could not talk to the staff they said he could still communicate. They knew he was a very kind and gentle soul. A few weeks ago my mother learned that my dad would go into a resident’s room, pat the person on the head and shed a tear. The next morning the resident passed away. My mother shared how this had happened four times with some friends. What she didn’t know was the mother of these friends was also staying at Legacy House and that night my dad had gone into her room, shed a tear and gave a tender pat on her head. The next morning she passed away.
My mom says she has no regrets. She has no sadness because she married a good man who always treated her well. For all the young people who wear “No regrets” t-shirts, you can have a life of no regrets if you live a life like my dad.
My dad followed Paul the apostle’s advice in Ephesians:
“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.”
My dad was only 5'5" but he towered over other men by the way he loved his wife and others.
He didn’t speak much but his actions spoke volumes.
I hope one day to be half the man that my dad was. I love him. Jesus, he’s all yours now.
Thank you for joining in the celebration of the life of my dad. If you know my dad would not go to any celebration without a Diet Coke. Dad, this Diet Coke’s for you.
The story of my dad is a love story between him and my mom. They were together for 62 years and I don’t know of anyone who had a better marriage. I never heard my parents argue. I never heard my dad say a harsh word about my mother. I always saw that he put her interests first. I never, ever thought my parents would get a divorce. All the kids knew we were loved–but we knew mom came first. Ed Murphy–the world’s greatest lover and Ruth Murphy–the most loved woman in the world.
Growing up was really like an old sitcom —“Ozzy and Harriet” meets “Leave it to Beaver.” My mom said that she felt sorry for us because dad gave her everything but he expected the kids to work.
My dad liked to have a nice lawn and the kids were part of it. Norm, Lynn and maybe LeAnn helped level the yard with ropes and railroad ties. Carol and I did our part by sitting on the railroad ties for extra weight.
We all learned how to mow the lawn–twice. Vertically and horizontally once a week.
My dad also like his hankies and pillow covers ironed. It seemed like we ironed a thousand hankies and pillow covers every week.
But our dad sacrificed for us as well. He gave up a job promotion with J.C. Penney in Pittsburgh because he thought Utah would be a better place to raise kids. Last night I met the man who took that job and he said my dad was his first boss. He told me a story of how a fire broke out at J.C. Penney and since they couldn’t work my dad thought it would be a good idea to go golfing. When they got back everybody wanted to know why it took them so long to get back. My dad replied, “We didn’t know it would be a nine-hole fire.”
My dad continued to play golf and racquetball but he gave up hunting and fishing by the time I came around. The earth has more deers, ducks and fish thanks to this decision.
A few of us had nicknames. Dad called Carol “Pumpkin” and me “Pal.” Maybe he just didn’t remember our names.
We didn’t grow up with a lot but we never were without what we really needed. My dad was known to be “tight with money.” I would like to say he taught me the value of a dollar.
My sister LeAnn remembers that Dad would grill her before she borrowed the car. He wanted to know how far she would go and he would expect her to fill the tank back up where it was before she left. He would check the odometer and the gas gauge after every trip.
I remember going with him to the bank to get a loan for my college education. I was stunned when I walked out of the bank with a loan that had to be paid by me—not him. Guess when I started to care about my education.
Money was tight when both my brothers were on missions and so my mom went to work as a teacher. What she didn’t know is that dad put all of her earnings in savings. When they retired they used that money so they could both travel.
My dad knew about money because he grew up without it. His mother died when he was nine-months-old and he was raised with his cousin Charles by his Uncle Albert and Aunt Pearl. They were dirt poor and lived in the Uintah Basin. My dad always wanted a bicycle but never had enough money to buy one. He finally found an abandoned bicycle with flat tires. He couldn’t even afford to buy tire tubes so he stuffed the tires with rags and rode his bike as much as he could.
My dad and Charles were always looking for ways to have fun without money. They used to attach an electric magneto to a steel sheet and pour corn on it. The chickens would come eat the corn, my dad would turn on the electricity and the chickens would fly straight up to the heavens. PETA may not like this but I think I have a great idea for a video game.
One time my dad and Charles were asked to clean the kitchen. My dad washed the floor and then convinced Charles they should go play without drying the floor. He said the water would just evaporate. They came back and the floor was dry and my dad was able to say “I told you so.” Later they learned that Uncle Albert came home and mopped the floor dry.
My dad loved his aunt and uncle but he said the best day of his life was when he turned 18 so he could join the Air Force. My dad loved flying planes, serving his country and getting as far away as possible from the Uintah Basin.
My dad wasn’t afraid to discipline but I don’t remember him yelling at us to get better grades or to become better athletes. A simple “Good gosh Paul” was enough to know that my dad was mad. He allowed us to fail and to learn from our mistakes.
One year Carol and LeAnn learned the consequences of complaining about what they got or did not get for Christmas. That year they got stockings full of black coal and a poster with pictures of everything they asked for Christmas. After the shock wore off—they both got $20.
Carol remembers the worst thing she ever did was take dad’s car without asking. I’m not even going to begin to tell you my list of worst things. She said dad didn’t yell at her but he said, “I’ve always trusted you but now I’m losing my trust.” Carol said she never took the car again but she said she probably would have if dad screamed at her.
My dad was the same way at work. He was an accounting supervisor and he had to hire and fire lots of people. But mom says that people still liked him when he fired them because he told them they would be better off in a job where they could feel like they were being successful. He was always concerned about their feelings.
Dad didn’t talk much when we were growing up. Most of the kids really got to know him when we became adults. For several years my wife and I had a weekly Bible study with my parents so we could get to know them better. We learned about their lives and the lessons they learned.
My dad didn’t grow up going to church and the only reason he got baptized was so he could marry my mom. LeAnn says he used to sneak the kids to get ice cream in between church meetings.
My dad never wanted to talk in church and my mom convinced him that he would never be called. However, at the end of one ward conference my dad was called up to speak at the last minute. Mom said he spoke well but he was very brief. However, he never went to ward conference again.
I don’t remember my dad reading the scriptures or religious books so I was surprised by the depth of his answers when reading the Bible. There is a type of Bible study called exegesis which means you draw the meaning of the text objectively rather than relying on your own interpretations. While reading the Gospel of John he concluded, “Jesus is God. It’s pretty clear.”
The Bible study stopped after my dad stopped being able to talk because of his dementia. For awhile he could say yes or no but that was about it. However, three years ago my parents came to visit me in the hospital. I had a staph infection that was resistant to antibiotics. I had been screaming for days because of the pain and I asked my dad if he could give me a blessing. He then offered the most beautiful prayer I had ever heard. He was fully aware of everything that was happening to me and he prayed for my recovery. My mom came back to the bed and asked what had happened. I told her that dad had give me a blessing. She asked him what he said but my dad could no longer talk. For a few minutes the heavens opened and I heard my dad’s voice for the first time in years.
My dad was loved by the people who cared for him at Legacy House. Even though he could not talk to the staff they said he could still communicate. They knew he was a very kind and gentle soul. A few weeks ago my mother learned that my dad would go into a resident’s room, pat the person on the head and shed a tear. The next morning the resident passed away. My mother shared how this had happened four times with some friends. What she didn’t know was the mother of these friends was also staying at Legacy House and that night my dad had gone into her room, shed a tear and gave a tender pat on her head. The next morning she passed away.
My mom says she has no regrets. She has no sadness because she married a good man who always treated her well. For all the young people who wear “No regrets” t-shirts, you can have a life of no regrets if you live a life like my dad.
My dad followed Paul the apostle’s advice in Ephesians:
“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.”
My dad was only 5'5" but he towered over other men by the way he loved his wife and others.
He didn’t speak much but his actions spoke volumes.
I hope one day to be half the man that my dad was. I love him. Jesus, he’s all yours now.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Obituary
William Edsel (Ed) Murphy, age 87, passed away peacefully at the Legacy House of Bountiful of causes incident to age. Ed was born March 12, 1923 in Ephraim, Utah to Ernest and Bertha Musig Murphy. His mother passed away when he was nine months of age. Ed lived with his Uncle Albert and Aunt Pearl Musig Edwards in the Uintah Basin. They had a son, Charles, very near to Ed’s age and they grew up as brothers and best friends. Ed attended elementary and high school in Myton, Utah and graduated from Roosevelt High School in Roosevelt, Utah in 1942. He started college at Utah State University in Logan, Utah and then served in the Army Air Corps during World War II, including one year at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. Ed returned to Utah State after his discharge and majored in accounting. He began dating Ruth Gilbert, a young lady he had known earlier in high school. They were married in the Salt Lake Temple on June 25, 1947. After his graduation in 1950, Ed began working as an accountant and auditor for Western Seed Company in Salt Lake City. The young couple purchased a home in Rose Park where they lived until he was recalled to serve as an auditor at a Wichita, Kansas air base in 1951. Two years later his family moved back to Salt Lake City and Ed became an accountant for J.C. Penney Company for 31 years. The family moved to Bountiful in 1965 where they have since resided. Ed is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served in various positions. He enjoyed playing golf, traveling and keeping a well-groomed yard. Survived by his wife of 62 years; Ruth Gilbert Murphy, five children; Norman Edsel (Barbara), Lynn J. (Margaret), LeAnn (Scott) Davis, Carol (Steve) Osborne, Paul Charles (Jenna) Murphy; and one sister, Elva Dale Wogec. He has 24 grandchildren and 23 great-grandchildren. Preceded in death by two grandchildren; Rachael Murphy and Wesley Osborne; and three sisters, Lylas Chambers, Carrie Anderson, June Nichols; and his cousin and lifelong friend, Charles Edwards. Ed suffered from dementia in his later years but he remained a kind and gentle person. He had a great love for his family, relatives, neighbors and friends. Funeral services will be held at 11 a.m., Tuesday, June 8 at the Mueller Park 1st Ward, 1825 S. 850 E., Bountiful. A viewing will be held 6-8 p.m., Monday, June 7 at Russon Brothers Mortuary, 295 N. Main, Bountiful. Internment will be at the Bountiful City Cemetery.
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