Healing Us - Volume 5
Hello everyone!
I hope you have had a beautiful and peaceful summer.
I have shared about my father’s health in the past and with a heavy heart I now share that he passed away this May. I have been debating sharing the eulogy I wrote for his memorial. I choose to publish my writing because I truly believe that my dad shaped me into the compassionate person I am today. Scott’s legacy lives on through me.
Please do not feel obligated to reach out with condolences as simply taking the time to read this is sharing your love and support from afar. Fortunately, I have profound support systems and continue to process through my own healing daily.
Sending love and light to you all.
Friends and family,
We gather here today to honor the memory of my father, Scott Cameron Bone, a man whose heart was as pure as they come. My dad was a man of few words, but his presence spoke volumes. His warmth and active listening were his ways of showing love and understanding. There was not a mean bone in my dad’s body. As his daughter, he made me feel safe and unconditionally loved every day.
Many of you here have felt my dad’s heart. His family and the community of Duxbury was his world. I know he is deeply touched to see this room filled with people who share decades of memories with and love for him.
In his life, my dad overcame adversities that many of us could not even imagine. From surviving debilitating spinal injuries to navigating an untimely diagnosis of Parkinson’s at the age of 51, my father managed these hardships with kindness and a smile, never seeking sympathy or attention.
My father was a private man, especially about his Parkinson’s symptoms. He never complained, even when faced with the toughest challenges. Most of you did not witness the countless times his body and mind struggled to communicate. The level of concentration it took for him to walk into a public setting was a superpower. I’ll never forget the last time we went to a Beach Boys concert as a family; he refused to use any sort of handicap accommodation, and although his resolve not to get special treatment was frustrating at times it was beyond admirable. For almost the past two decades, his determination to defeat Parkinson’s and not let it define him was a mission he executed daily. Parkinson’s is a ruthless disease, and Dad never let it defeat his spirit.
It feels like just yesterday I was sitting next to my dad in this very pew, holding his hand while my mom read my Heather’s eulogy. It is surreal to be here three years later, now honoring his life. It speaks to the fragility of life, and I know my dad’s heart was broken into pieces after Heather’s passing. It is not lost on me that my life and Heather’s were made possible by the union of my parents in this very room. My sister and I were both baptized here, and my sister’s funeral also took place in this sacred church. In this room, I feel deeply connected to both Heather and my dad, and although today marks another day of despair, it also symbolizes that their souls are always here and will never be lost.
My dad is so much more than his medical hardships and as I think back on his life, so many beautiful moments come to mind. The memories that surface always involve his family and of course his dogs. He was the ultimate dog dad to Capsize, Buoy, Dinghy, Skipper, and Salty. If I could speak for any of my dogs, they would say he was the best belly rubber they ever had. Since his passing, I have felt closest to my dad each time I walk Salty and Harbour on our street. The nautical dog name tradition will live on as a remembrance of Scott Bone’s dog legacy. I hope it makes you smile as wide as I do when I think of him reunited with all his pups on the other side right now.
When it comes to memories of family some of my favorites include simply sitting around living rooms enjoying conversation with Nana, Bumpa, and Honey. The annual Josselyn Avenue Bone Christmas Eve Tradition also stands out. My mom would host my dad’s entire family because she knew how much it meant to my dad to have that one day all together as a Bone family. My dad’s best friends truly were his parents, his wife, his daughters, and his siblings. The simple things in life gave him the most happiness.
Family vacations were always a highlight for my dad because he loved spending time with just the four of us. I remember Disney World with the imagery of him carrying my sister and me on his shoulders, no matter how tired or hot he was throughout each theme park. He always said it was his favorite place to take us because he loved witnessing the magic in our eyes.
Then there wasn’t a single-family vacation to Club Med without my dad camping out in the bleachers to watch his girls fly on the trapeze. Mentions of Vail and Killington evoke the greatest family mountain recollections. I’ll never forget how proud my dad was that he could keep up skiing with my mom.
My dad was the best kind of kid in an adult body. His ideal way to spend a day on vacation in St. John was snorkeling and ending the day with ice cream. An ideal summer day in Duxbury would include spending time with his dogs, swimming laps at the DYC pool, and listening to pop music. I always say he was the ultimate 90s girl dad because growing up, he initiated every concert to NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, LFO, Britney Spears, and The Beach Boys. Boston sporting events were an annual priority, especially when it included the New England Patriots vs. the San Diego Chargers with his favorite Quarterback Doug Flutie. Lastly but not least in my dad’s mind, he was Duxbury Lacrosse’s number 1 fan. He would brave any weather to see the Dragons play; it was his favorite thing to do in the spring.
Some more recent memories of my dad that warm my heart are watching him become a Bumpa and interact with Riggs, Kertley, and Macaulay. He was overjoyed to become a grandfather. He would get on the floor with the kids and play any chance he could get. His favorite thing to hear was when the kids would call him Bumpa! I swear his secret mission was for all their first words to be Bumpa. Although over the last two years much of our time was spent at the Duxbury House, the kids, especially Macaulay loved to visit Bumpa there. Often all four of them would eat MacDonalds happy meals and play with the basketball hoop inside the arts and crafts room. It was evident that my dad’s gentleness could be felt by the kids. It breaks my heart that if I choose to have kids one day they will never feel Bumpa’s energy, participate in his silly jokes, or hear his giggle. However, I do know that they will always know who Bumpa is and that he will always protect them.
One thing that is not spoken about enough is the way my father showed up for my mom as a husband. My dad held the most pride and support for my mom. He adored working alongside her in real estate and was her greatest cheerleader. My mom’s career grew throughout their marriage in part because he believed in her endlessly. Whenever she contracted a house under agreement or hit a record sale, my dad made it a point to celebrate her hard work and victories. He
reveled my mother’s independence, encouraging her to travel and nourish her friendships. He truly and deeply respected my mom in a way that profoundly impacted my understanding of relationships and a woman’s worth. As a daughter witnessing their relationship, I learned how important it is to allow your partner to feel recognized for their efforts and individuality.
Since Heather’s passing some of you have heard me speak openly about my continued relationship with Heather, my new understanding of spirituality, and my connection to the “other side.” I trust that there is life beyond the physical form we see in this sacred room, and I know that my dad and Heather are watching over us all right now in love and awe.
My spiritual connection to the other side is truly remarkable. What is most extraordinary, and comforting is that my boyfriend JC has begun to experience some of these unexplainable connections to the other side too. In June, when JC and I were on a long drive in France, out of the blue, JC saw my dad outside our car window looking at us like superman, smiling, and letting us know that he was keeping us safe.
My heart breaks to know that life on earth has lost the physical connection of my dad, and yet I know this is not the end of the road for my relationship with my dad. Today marks a new chapter, the beginning of my relationship with my dad’s soul. I know that in every way I am my dad’s daughter and that his legacy lives on through me, Riggs, Kertley, and Macaulay, and everyone who loves him. May we all listen a little more earnestly, love even deeper, and cherish life’s most sweet, simple moments the way Scott Cameron Bone did. May the impact of his life shine through all of us.
Rest in peace, Dad. Your legacy of love, strength, and kindness will live on in our hearts forever.