My father, Ralph Matney passed away last Saturday at the age of 86. He loved to work and he was simply without a doubt one of the hardest working and toughest individuals I have ever known. His upbringing in the Great Depression taught him the value of a dollar and the value of hard work. He never gave up and if times were tough he believed you just simply worked harder and gutted it out. You were never to do anything without giving it 100% effort.
My Dad held a variety of different jobs. He owned his own furniture store, installed carpet, and was a salesman at Nebraska Furniture Mart. He also was a real estate investor and purchased his first apartment building in 1959. He had seven children so when it came time to mow the yard or shovel the snow he had his own work crew. You were never too young to start working. If you could walk and pick up something, you could start working. I remember driving by the apartments to "make sure everything was OK". If there was something out of place or trash in the yard; you were expected to "go pick up that small scrap of paper in the yard and throw it away."
He was married for 58 years and had seven children. He had a passion for hunting, fishing and his family. I was the "baby" and I have six older sisters. He was never a real demonstrative person, but you knew in your heart that he deeply cared for his family. He was stubborn and he also believed that you could do anything if you worked hard enough and set your mind to it. He would be determined to prove you wrong if you told him something could not be done.

His died at home but his final days were pure hell. On Thursday, the hospice nurse said that he had less than 24 hours. In true fashion, he would be determined to prove her wrong. He died at home on Saturday. I take comfort in knowing that he is no longer is suffering in horrific pain.
It may seem odd, but after he passed away I drove by the apartments. The grandkids now mow the yard and he would be happy knowing everything was in its place. I got out of the car just to look around. In honor of my Dad, I would find a scrap of paper and throw it out. I walked to the back I noticed a small scrap of paper. It was truly a miracle because on that scrap of paper were the words, "thank you."
Dad, "Thank you, and I love you."
Love,
David