03/10/2025
Saturday, 8 March, 2025, my father, Robert J. Meisinger Sr. was laid to rest. This was one amazing man. He was a positive, humble, incredible, hard-working, and an uplifting personality who selflessly went through life, more concerned with everyone else than himself.
I would like to share just a few thoughts from my perspective, having had the privilege of calling him my father. I’ve been fortunate enough to experience a life that, though normal in many respects, was endearing and incredible, much like him.
Dad was my trusted agent, a respected voice, sounding board, partner, cohort, the other half of the comedy show, and an easy friend. And all of these relationships with him felt as natural as the sunrise. He did not boast, brag, or complain. He took what life provided, added unrelenting hard work and made it work for himself and his family. I can say without hesitation he was more than a father, but honestly, he was all of these things so naturally… I am so very fortunate that what I had experienced was what I just assumed fatherhood should be. That did not become clear until age provided me with experience in my surroundings - where I found that I had not experienced normalcy – but when it came to the way of fathers and fatherhood – my experiences were often much more favorable than what lay on the other side of the fence.
When I decided to join midget football at St. Simon & Jude, Dad joined the coaching staff.
When I played little league, Dad became an umpire.
When my sister and I joined 4-H, Dad bought a trailer to take our animals to the fair.
When I joined the Boy Scouts, Dad became a scout master.
But never… did he hover. He was fair to everyone, encouraging, and always allowing things to fall where they may. Old school I would say… one of the last stragglers of the greatest generation.
My point is, he was selfless to me and to all of his children.
During my teen years, when I was faced with important life decisions, Dad wasn’t negative, frustrated, or impatient. The only thing I remember from those moments was how encouraging he was.
During my time in the service, when Kay, the kids, and I moved frequently—any time a move wasn’t sponsored by Uncle Sam, Dad was there. With a heart full of love and selflessness, he was always engaged. I never had to ask, it only took a mention.
When I moved back to Pennsylvania and started working on projects like building a garage, digging a French drain, installing an outdoor furnace, replumbing the heating system, re-siding the house, replacing the porch or be present for each picnic, party or celebration or enjoy a regular day —Dad was there. And again, he did all of it with a heart full of love, selflessly engaged. I never had to ask.
There are so many stories, funny moments, and good times from our family gatherings that it would be impossible to recount them all and truly would not do justice to the personality that was Dad. But what stands out most is that Dad was the nucleus of goodness, light-heartedness, hard work, and positivity in our family. That cannot be disputed. He was what fathers around the world should aspire to be.
From my perspective as his son, I can truly say that Dad may be the closest thing to a saint I will ever know. And many of you who knew him well, just might agree. Yes, he was human and had his moments – but it never interfered with putting on a smile, creating good times and giving of himself wherever he knew it may be needed.
I believe, if God were the type to boast, I can imagine that right now, with a huge, proud grin on his face, He would be standing beside Dad, His arm around him, squeezing him tightly, facing millennia of his congregation gathered over eons and saying: "This is Bob. I created him." That is how I feel about the man I call my father. Rest in Peace, Dad.
