Dub

I would like you all to meet Dub Kennedy.  He passed away yesterday-and the world is down one genuine family man. One of the funniest, most unique human beings I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  I am sure that my dad or my brother have more detailed stories about Dub since they spent lots of time together at hunting camp, but I want to share with you why I am going to miss this man.
Note: I am not going to be able to do Dub's sense of humor justice.  Just know that the man was hilarious and very rarely serious.

The ONLY time I drank in high school was when Russ and Lyndsey took me to Tim and Kathy's wedding.  Dub poured me a screwdriver and told me it was just organic orange juice.  Since I was none the wiser, I concluded that the juice tasted funny and I had an overwhelming urge to dance! Now, as you can see below, Dub was missing part of his pointer finger on his right hand.  Turns out, those last two inches of finger are pretty important when it comes to dancing.  I kept missing his hands!  After a while, I caught on that the organic orange juice was spiked.  Dub cut me off when a gust of wind almost knocked me over on the way to the bathroom.

In college, I would have a semesterly freakout where I would call my parents and give them the usual "I can't do this, I'm moving home, there is nothing wrong with working at McDonald's, did I mention I am moving home?"  My mom would listen as much as she could before she would pass the phone to my dad.  Dad would run through his usual protocol and then would demand that I call and talk to Dub. Dub always said the same thing..."quit your bitchin' and pull up your big girl panties.  Not everybody just gets to go to college and you do." I always knew what he was going to say, and it was always what I needed to hear.

Dub was deaf-ish.  He had hearing aids, but often times preferred to make up his own sign language.  Countless times, I remember dad talking to him, asking him a question, and Dub would hold his hand out, flutter his fingers, shoot him a direct look, twirl his mustache, and smack his lips and that meant "I have to go to the bathroom."

Dub had a handle bar mustache (sometimes waxed), eventually was missing TWO fingers (one from a dump truck accident and one from chopping wood...chime in if I'm wrong, Russ), and a sense of humor that could charm the sourness right out of you.  He loved his kids, he loved to hunt, he loved Griz football, and he loved his family.

It was difficult seeing a strong man who looked like he walked out of the wild west be struck down by cancer. I was lucky enough to get to say goodbye to Dub.  I was having a really hard time not crying and trying to stay calm.  What do you say to a person when you know that you are never going to be able to talk to them again? At least not for a while.  I cried and told Dub that I loved him and I was going to miss him.  He literally said "Big girl panties...I'm the one that's dying!"

Happy Heaven Day to Dub! He told my dad he is planning on finding grandpa and finding a fishing hole- just as it should be.