Clarence James Wigger 1941-2019

Dad was an all-around easy person to like. He exuded warmth and used his sense of humor to make connections with people wherever he went. He was the kind of person that could immediately put you at ease, and his greatest reward for this was making you laugh.

It’s not surprising that he loved children. He was fun-loving and generally unafraid of being silly. That part in us that is sometimes lost when we harden into adulthood was never lost in him. Even after Alzheimer’s had taken so much, it never disposessed him of his right to a good joke.

Humor was one of Dad’s greatest gifts and he used it to help him get through the difficult times in his life. My Dad came from humble beginnings – the kind that would turn a lesser person understandably bitter – but he kept an open heart and, despite challenges along the way, managed to live life with a kind of reluctant optimism many of us fail to achieve, even with more advantages and privilege than he.

My Dad was humble. He didn’t pretend to have all the answers or ever assert that his way was the only right one.  He was tender-hearted and unreservedly affectionate towards his daughters. He gave out of what he had and it was important to him that we knew he was there for us come what may, without judgment or qualification. He was good at being comforting. He knew how to listen even though he loved to talk. He had so many stories…

He also liked to tease. When he met Robbie it was a relief to know he’d found someone who could handle his sense of playfulness. She supported him in life and was his rock throughout his illness. Her bravery is a testament to the strength of their bond and her steadfast love for my father. She also supported his relationship with my sister and I, for which I will be eternally grateful.

In my life I have only met a small handful of men (no offense fellas) who were simply made to be fathers, but my Dad was one of them. He wanted kids and genuinely liked spending time with them, with us. I was very young when my parents divorced. I will never fully know how hard it was for him to lose his daughters. I can only compare it to how painful it was for us to lose him.

For years it felt like we would always be the missing pieces in each other’s lives, that the sense of loss between us would never fully heal, but we were blessed with opportunities later in life to change that feeling, sometimes through the expression of grief but often with joy, and I’ve come to realize that the love between a father and daughter is never lost, it’s never gone.

My Dad gave me the greatest gift a parent can give. He gave me the certainty to walk through this life with confidence knowing that I am unconditionally, completely, and forever loved. There is no distance in miles, in time, even in death, which can ever change or lessen that.