On March 7th, after a short illness, my Dad passed away at the VA hospital with my brother Bill holding his hand. My Mom and sister waited outside the room. I was in Hampton, Virginia at the Wal-Mart about to go into the MotherShip to see Phish at their reunion tour, when my brother called.
"Dad's gone."
He had it tough the last years of his life. In pain, and not happy about how it all turned out, he was none the less proud of his family and glad they still talked to him.
It sure wasn't easy, but we loved him and i miss him today.
He leaves behind my Mom, Elaine, my brother Birkett and his family, Sandy, Birkett the fifth, Stephanie and her new baby, Jackson David. My brother Bill and his family, Wila my niece Julie and nephew Lucas Gabriel, my sister Kelley and her family, Mark, and my nephew Jordan.
He was one of the last Florida cowboys, grew up in this great state and taught us to love it if we didn't already. Took us hunting and fishing and to the beach and loved all things wild and free. We grew up never knowing we might be missing out on anything because we were way to busy having fun with each other or bringing a friend along on one of our family get a ways, and if that wasn't enough, there were always the times we had to ourselves, which were never dull.
He might not of been the best Dad on the planet, but he was far from the worst and could charm most anyone and at the same time piss off everyone. He was a rascal and a gentleman. He drank, gambled and raised hell, but he taught us lots of good stuff and sure gave us plenty to think about.
I'm thankful i knew him.
RIP Birkett Fry Jordan the 3rd, may you find those Ghost Riders in the Sky. . .
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