We struggled during the week of my dad's death to remember what his wishes were. Did he want to be buried or cremated? Then one evening, my mom got a phone call from one of my dad's good friends, the mortician we had left Dad's body with. He said he remembered my dad saying one day, "I just want you to cook me." So that's what we did. We had contemplated where we would place his ashes, and I was remembering all the stories he used to tell about Death Valley National Park in Southern California. He could talk for hours about the desert and how much he missed and loved it. I offered the idea of taking our whole family there for a long weekend as a tribute to what dad wanted to do with us for so long, but didn't have the strength to. But we didn't have that kind of money.
My dad used to work for Knife River, a concrete and asphalt company in Idaho. He was one of the most well-respected men in the company and worked his way up to managing several highway and freeway projects at once. The people he worked with are amazing. Upon discovering my dad was gone, they all pitched in, created college funds for the kids and gave my mother a hefty check that was more than enough pay for all of us to fly to Death Valley.
We carefully packed our dad's ashes in our suitcase and left. When we drove out of Las Vegas and into the desert, I immediately fell in love. It was so easy to see why my dad loved it there. For a few days, we explored the park. We laughed and cried together.
We talked about dad and we spread his ashes in the most beautiful places we found. One night as we were driving out of the park, we looked up and saw the stars. They were so bright, as there were no cities nearby to drown them out with lights. We pulled over and laid in the desert sand and watched the stars. My mom sang us lullabies and told us how lucky we were to have a dad that loved us so much. She told us we were his pride and joy. We talked about his childhood and she told us how rough his childhood was. He could have followed the pattern of how he was treated when he was little, but he decided to "break the chain" and was the best father we could have asked for.
It was so nice to be away from all the people who asked us how we were doing, all the people who asked for dad, not knowing he was gone, and all the people we struggled to talk to. It was nice to have a break from work and school. It was nice to just be with us, even though we can drive each other crazy, cause we're a perfectly normal family.
My Dad's Obituary:
"William Howard Parker, (January 5, 1944) passed away on September 16, 2016 after a several year battle with cancer. He was 72 years old. He is survived by his wife, Lara, and his children, Malia and Johnny Diaz, Bill, Nora and Ricky, his sister, Sharon Howell, as well as Kent, Phillip and Matthew Shriver, Jeni and Isaiah Parker, Betty Parker, Roger and Nancy Johnson and Gary and Penny Hurt. He was preceded by his daughter, Jonnah Mae Parker.
Bill was a very loved man and will be missed greatly.Bill danced his way through life, trading in one car for the next and making deals while managing to help everyone he met at the same time. Bill was the guy who got things done and was at his best when he his deals benefited others. He rarely had time to sit still as there was always work to be done or people to visit. He took pride in his work ethic and making sure his family had what they needed. He often held two, even three different jobs at a time to provide for his family and to help a friend out whenever he could.
Once in 2009, he “retired.” That lasted two weeks. Bill was at his best with a Diet Coke in his hand, his family nearby and a dream to be made into reality.Bill worked for Knife River and was in the asphalt business for most of his life. From paving roads for Robin Williams’ movies to driveways or highways, Bill was the guy who made it happen and he collected friends along the way. While Bill was the asphalt expert, his real talent was with people and always taking the time to share his appreciation immediately and never waiting until later to tell someone he loved them and was thinking about them. He had a way of measuring distance in feet and making others come out miles ahead.
When he wasn’t working, he was teaching his kids to appreciate the best in life from movies with popcorn smothered in butter to fifties music and classic VW Bugs. Bill lived life to the fullest and we say to you wherever you are, “Bill, you gave far more than we can ever repay you. You are loved. You are missed.”Please join us on Saturday, September 24, 2016 at the Rathdrum LDS Church (15151 Meyer Road) at noon to share your memories of Bill with his family and say one last goodbye. A viewing for family and friends will be at 10:30."