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Eulogy (partial)

It's a difficult thing to try and do justice to a man's life in a few paragraphs. It's doubly difficult as a daughter who loved and adored her father to objectively tell you about him, so I'm just going to share with you some memories I have, viewed through the lens of his daughter and his granddaughters.


We thought he was amazing, funny, hard working, loving, and fiercely loyal. From my earliest memories, I always wanted to be just like my dad. I have vivid memories of trying to keep up with him. He always complained about his short legs, but boy could he walk fast. I remember having to take 3 or 4 steps for every 1 of his, but that was ok because I was with Daddy. Although I don't remember it, my parents told me that when I was preschool age I always got up early because Daddy got up early, and I always wanted six fried eggs because Daddy had 6 fried eggs. I now think there may be such a thing as too many fried eggs since, to this day, I don't really care much for them any more. The quest to be like him didn't end there. Daddy drank beer. He also chewed tobacco. Those looked pretty cool to my four year old self, so I asked if I could have some too. He didn't miss a beat and generously got me a beer when I asked, and a pinch of snuff when I requested it. You would have thought that the beer experience might have given me a heads up for the snuff experience yet to come, but my 4 year old brain wasn't quite sophisticated enough to make that connection. I haven't had tobacco since then, and despite working at Coors with beer on tap any time of day, I've not had any more beer either. My dad didn't read the latest parenting book but I'm pretty sure this method of discouraging bad behavior was far more effective than anything those books had to offer.

Another activity he seemed to like to do was to set siphon tubes. He did it all the time, so I wanted to set siphon tubes, too. Although I got good at it, I should have listened to his mother. She always told me that if you learned how to do something well, then you would be expected to do it again and again. Well, I imagine I have set tens of thousands of siphon tubes in my life, but that's ok because Daddy set siphon tubes too.

In my family, the nuts don't fall too far from the tree. I know that's supposed to read apples, but nuts seems more appropriate for us. Not only did I want to be like my dad, but my girls wanted to be just like their Grandpa, too. When they were babies they rode in a backpack while I irrigated, and if it wasn't obvious, I can tell you that setting siphon tubes with a child on your back isn't all that easy. Fortunately, The girls quickly outgrew riding in backpacks, and wanted boots and shovels of their own so they could be just like Grandpa. Taryn was particularly tiny, so he fashioned a shovel just her size. She couldn't say shovel. It was shubble. She couldn't say Grandpa either, that was Gampa. One day when she was helping him with her shubble, she got stuck in the mud, and after realizing that no amount of trying was going to get her unstuck, she called out to my dad and said, "Gampa, I can't walk!" He turned around and came back and gently pulled each boot out of the mud and sent her on her way with her shubble. She says she likes to think that, even now, when she is struggling, he is looking down upon her and helping her find her way.

The girls spent many happy hours riding in Grandpa's John Deere Tractor. Grandpa figured out pretty quickly that a child looking back at a bean planter to watch for a clogged or empty planter was much better for his arthritic neck than turning around himself to watch for it. Chelsea spent many 8 hour days riding in the tractor with Grandpa and facing backward at the bean planter ready to alert her Grandpa whenever there was a problem.


My dad wasn't perfect by any means but he was perfect for us and we will always smile when we realize we are doing something just like him.

Eulogy (Alzheimer's)

There is one way, however, that we don't want to follow in my dad's footsteps. He had Alzheimer's. It's not a pleasant subject but it is an important one. Many of you didn't know he had it; some of you may have suspected it. I'm sure none of you knew that he was diagnosed about 10 years ago, and in retrospect the symptoms had been there long before that. Most of the evidence points to an unusual variation called Dementia with Lewy Bodies. It's particularly difficult because we never knew what was going to happen next. One of the characteristics is long periods of normalcy interspersed with periods of obvious dementia and uncharacteristic behavior. Over time the normal periods become shorter and less frequent, and the dementia becomes more the norm. It also has a Parkinson's component to it, which is what usually gets everyone's attention. The response is to treat the Parkinson's symptoms, but the drugs for that make this rare form of dementia much worse. For many years prior to the diagnosis, we were unknowingly on that roller coaster until, only recently, we figured it out. We still got blind sided by the occasional doctor that had no way of knowing, and gave him the wrong medicine sending us on another downward spiral. It's a cruel disease and he waged a long and courageous battle against it. We all did. Through it all, he never lost his sense of humor and for that we are grateful.

My dad's sister had early onset Alzheimer's. His mother had it. My mother in law has it, as does her brother. Their mother had it, too. I think the writing is clearly on the wall for David and I. It is my hope that through research and awareness, by the time our girls and future generations reach that age, that they can refer to this horrible disease in the past tense.

Obituary

Forrest Dale Tinkler, 84, passed away Wednesday at the family home on Spring Creek Mesa surrounded by his family. Forrest was born in 1928 in Protection, Kansas to Reuben and Helen (Dale) Tinkler. He spent his childhood in Kansas and graduated from Assaria High School in 1946. He attended Kansas Wesleyan University.

The family moved to Alamosa in 1947 where they ran a restaurant for a year before moving to the Colona area. He worked at the Idarado Mine in the late 40s and early 50s and also ranched and farmed with his parents in Colona. He served in the Army in Korea from 1953 to 1956 based on the island of Cheju Do. He moved to Point Barrow Alaska in 1956 and worked installing radar towers in the Aleutian Islands.

He returned to Colona and married Joan Elaine Jutten in 1957. In 1959 they moved into the current residence on Spring Creek Mesa where he and Joan raised two children, Richard and Wendy, and farmed for 40 years.

Forrest loved farming and ranching. After he retired, he bought a herd of goats which put many smiles on his face the past few years. He loved spending time with his children and grandchildren. His granddaughters spent many hours riding with him in his tractor and helping him irrigate. Forrest enjoyed his many friends and never lost his sense of humor. His granddaughters often talk of writing a book or Grandpa's sayings.

Over the years he was active in the National Farmers Organization, the Producers Coop and the Colona Grange.

He was a member of the Colona Community Church.

Forrest was preceded in death by his parents; two sisters, Rachel Ann Hoover and Helen Marie Wescott; his wife, Joan and his son, Richard. He is survived by his daughter, Wendy Tinkler and her husband David Walters of Fort Collins; granddaughters, Shelby Werner Thayne of Provo, Utah, Chelsea Werner of Miami, Florida, Taryn Werner of Lake Forest, California, and Christina and Jennifer Tinkler of Plano, Texas; and many nieces and nephews.