Patrick Brian McCumber - Online Gedenkwebseite

When I was young, I remember one summer morning our front door was open.  Dad was still in bed and some random dog, a doberman pincer, came running in our house.  It ran right into my parents' bedroom and jumped up on the bed with dad...staring him in the eye.  It turned out to be a nice dog.  I think he ended up chasing that thing out of the house.  This memory just popped in my head this morning and gave me a little chuckle.

This isnt really a memory, Just wanted you to know Ive had a lot of dreams about you. The first one, I got to hug you. It felt like I was able to give you a hug goodbye. All of my dreams of you are in the old house, which is nice, because thats where we shared most of my favorite memories with you! I love you so much, and I think about you Everyday. I miss you so much Pat.
Love Keshia
        (Beaner):-)

Blue Eyes Cring In The Rain…What a great  song for what I have to say. It has been said that the eyes are the window to the soul, and I believe that with all of my heart. My dad had some of the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen. Looking into his eyes was looking into a beautiful soul. He had a kind and silly soul. A soul that didn’t have to say much, because you knew how he felt. You knew when he was angry, annoyed, happy, silly or proud or just plain having the time of his life, just by the look in his eyes. I feel blessed to have his blue eyes and to have 2 other beautiful sisters that also have his eyes. We can look into each other’s eyes and love and laugh with each other and be in our own little world.  My first memory of my Dad was when I was about 4 years old. I was tired and cranky and I was not yet  a fan of sharing my Dad. I spoke up and let everyone know that I thought everyone there was rotten EXCEPT my Dad. A little girl loves her daddy and wants to be the most special thing in the world in his eyes. Sharing was one of the many lessons my Dad taught me a long the road. He taught me how to adapt and make the most of situations that life brings your way. He taught me how to forgive and forget. He accepted people and things for what they were. He didn’t make excuses for who he was or where he had been. He would say, “It just doesn’t matter”. He taught me how to have fun, and to bait a hook, build a fire, or make a strong cocktail. In his most recent years though I have to say he really took his relationships with each of us girls to a new level. He met each of us where we are and on our own individual terms. He found something in each of us that he knew we liked and he also enjoyed and he bonded with us in that special way.  With me, there was always a tan war that I wasn’t ever able to win, but could get a close second place next to my two kids, which my dad nicknamed “Jakerbaker” and “Chocolate girl”who could have easily been Coppertone models.  A couple of years ago the girls and I asked Dad to go huckleberry picking up at Fernan Saddle. We packed lunches, brought the kids and Dad brought the guns! He was so excited about his new gun and couldn’t wait to shoot it. He brought 22s as well as his 44 magnum so that we would all get a chance to shoot. We picked berries, ate lunch and shot guns in true North Idaho fashion. It was one of the most memorable days of my life and of my life with my dad and my kids. I know Michelle & Kristie would agree that we connected with Dad on his terms but we all felt in perfect harmony. I took tons of photographs of that day thankfully so that we can look back and remember that special occasion.  One of my latest memories was going to the Fiesta Bowl to watch BSU play TCU in Glendale, AZ. Dad came up and met us and went to his first ever college football bowl game. What an great day we had. It was more than he had imagined. He couldn’t believe how nice our fellow tail gaiters were bringing fresh Halibut from Alaska. How we spent all day outside in the sun pre-functioning for the game. Then came the actual game and the excitement and the huge bowl game win! We came out so excited and pumped up until we found out his car had been towed. I missed my flight the next morning traveling back to Glendale to get his car out of the tow lot. And I thank God for that extra day and for the laughs we shared driving over to find his car when neither of us know where we were going.. Every Saturday this football season, my Dad would call me and ask me what time and what channel the Broncos were playing on. He enjoyed watching a winning team since he had been al lifelong Seahawks fan he finally got to feel the joy of watching a winning team! These small things are the things that memories are made of.  My dad gave me a love for the outdoors and for the sun and for living in each moment and making the most of it. I will forever be great-full for the memories, the life lessons and for the open door policy he had with everyone he knew… I will forever love and miss you dad. Go Broncos!

The following is what I said at my dad's memorial service:

They saved the best for last. I know, joking right now isn't appropriate and usually I would self-edit a comment like that. This time, I didn't because my dad would've said something like that at a moment like this. He would always say something silly (allbeit inappropriate) when faced with an uncomfortable situation to lighten the mood. I am the same way, except I don't usually let those comments escape my thoughts and come out of my mouth. This time is different. I said it this time...because dad would have.

Since finding out about my dad's passing, which by the way was on my 12th wedding anniversary to my husband, I have been thinking a lot about the relationship that my dad and I had. We weren't really close. We saw each other maybe 4 or 5 times a year and we talked on the phone on every holiday & birthday. Even though we weren't that close, we both wanted to be. We just had different personalities. We didn't have much common ground. I remember growing up, he would wake up early every morning (happy as can be). He walked around the house singing, whistling and being silly. I was very grumpy when I woke up and hated his silliness that early in the morning. It drove me crazy. I miss that now.

One thing that my dad and I did share was our love of music. As you've already heard from my sisters, we grew up around music. I have many memories of watching him play the drums and singing. There was always music playing in our house...usually country music. The music that reminds me the most of my dad comes from Alabama, Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson. As I grew up, singing became a love of mine. If my dad or I were around a karaoke machine, we'd hog the mic. I also have a desire to play the guitar. I remember a conversation my dad and I had about a year or so ago. He told me that he would be retiring from his job in Idaho. He still wanted to work though, just to stay busy. I had mentioned that he should take up some new hobbies. He told me that he had thought about learning how to play the guitar. I remember at that moment envisioning me sitting with him outside by the firepit (where you could always find him) playing and singing old country songs together. Unfortunately, we never got to do that. But music is a bond that we always shared and I will forever cherish. Last June, he threw Astrid (his wife) a surprise birthday party where he of course had karaoke. He kept bugging me to sing a song with him (he never bugged me so much to sing with him as he did that time). I didn't recognize any of the songs he had. Finally, he pulled the song Silver Wings by Merle Haggard. I remembered that song from my childhood and I was surprised at how well I remembered it. We harmonized our way through that song. I didn't know it then but that would be the last song that I would get to sing with him. That song will always hold special meaning to me.

My dad wasn't the most affectionate man. His way of showing affection to me was usually playfully by punching me in the shoulder (not gently, but always playfully), or shoving me on my shoulder, or (my personal favorite) pushing on my bruises while saying "does that hurt". He didn't have to tell me that he loved me for me to know it. I always knew that he loved me and was proud of me. I could see it in his beautiful blue eyes. I could always see how he felt (like Angie said) by looking in his eyes. He never pretended to be someone he wasn't. He was real. What you saw was what you got.

I'm so thankful for the time I shared with my dad.

I'm so thankful that I got to sing one last song with him.

I'm so thankful for the love of music that he gave me. Music is who I am and I owe that to him.

In honor of my dad’s life I would like to share some memories I hold close to my heart.  My dad showed his affection in his own goofy way.  He was always cracking jokes, making goofy sounds, especially in the early morning, and giving his children unusual nicknames—by the way the only people that are allowed to call me Duck Lips are my dad and on occasion my sisters.

I have many memories of fishing with him at Fernan Lake.  He would always bait the hook and take the fish off when I caught one.  It wasn’t about learning how to fish it was about being together doing what he loved to do that made our fishing trips special.

Music was always a big part of our lives.  As a little girl I always wished that I could have a musical talent.  I remember going to watch his band play music at the bars and even singing in his band with my sister Kristie when we were little girls.  Going to Curley’s on Sundays is one of my favorite memories.  Though I do not have any musical talent, I enjoy listening to many types of music.  I don’t think that it is coincidence that I married a drummer and have a son that is enjoys playing the drums as well.  You can only imagine the amount of noise that my daughter Taryn and I tolerate when my husband and son are jamming on the drums.   It seems that listening to drums has become inevitable in my life and I am thankful for this.

One passion that I share with my dad is building a fire and being around the fire with family and friends.  I am very proud of my fire building skills that he taught me and I often brag about not needing gasoline to start a bon fire to my husband.

One thing that I cannot leave out is that my dad opened his home to family and friends.  He loved to party.  He was a great host always BBQing on the grill or stoking the fire.  I too love to party and host family and friends.

Perhaps the greatest gift my dad has taught me is the ability to learn how to forgive.  This is such an important part of my life that I am thankful for.  My dad was never one who would sweat the small stuff—a trait that I am still trying to learn to this day.  Life is short and we only get one shot at it and I think my dad new this.

Most importantly, my dad loved to make people laugh.  I know that my dad would want us to celebrate his life with laughter.  My dad was a very special tender--hearted person who I will miss greatly.

It's really hard when you lose a loved one....I'm deeply sorry for Pat's children's loss, wife Astrid's loss....his many friends and aquaintences.  This man was a true and wonderful friend of mine....My wife Juanita and I enjoyed visiting Him & Astrid when they were in Yuma for the winters....and I just want to send my deepest condolences to his children & wife....he will truly be missed....

Salute "My Friend"

Our thoughts and prayers with Angie and the rest of her family at this tough time.  What a wonderful memorial this site it. Thank you for sharing the memories.  Angie,you have his beautiful eyes. 

I will always cherish the years we played music together and the all the good times we had. Pat was a great guy and will be missed greatly.