Norbert Lavicka

Dear Dad, you were brought into this world by Dorothy Lyons Lavicka and George Lavicka on June 2, 1943. You were a wonderful/loving dad (5 children: Christina, Jeffrey, Robert, David, Benjamin) and grandpa (7 grandchildren). You grew up on a farm in Athens, WI with two sisters (Elizabeth and Marlene) and three brothers (Richard, Thomas and Ronald). You were a God-fearing master carpenter. Because you never talked about your donations to charities many aren’t aware what you did to make this world a better place. You were someone I could always count on for honesty, knowledge/love. Some of your stories (like taking Grandpa’s car out for a “ride”/pushing 120 mph and getting into a few fistfights because you were never afraid to take on a friendly challenge with your Athens buddies) made me wish I could go back in time and hang out with you in your prime; we would have had a blast! In 1960 you were part of the Junior Prom Court. In 1961 your “Ten years into the future” class prophecy was: “Norbert Lavicka is now head of the Law Enforcement Agency of Athens.” I witnessed your wit, desire to live in the moment/lend an attentive ear (when I really needed my dad), showing compassion to others (we are still finding countless receipts/letters from charities you donated to) connecting humor to life (Dennis the Menace was one of your favorites; you would insert the names of your five children on the comic strip when apropos) and showing me what it means to take the high road (even when others in your life aren’t treating you kindly/fairly). I never heard you say a cross word about anyone, ever. You were a “just” man; if you ever made an honest mistake, you fixed it (even at the risk of losing all you had in the world). Whenever I would say, “It’s not fair,” you would say, “It’s no circus, either.” However, sometimes we pretended to be at a circus. I remember being a little girl helping taking your big work boots off and putting my little feet on your big feet as you held my tiny hands and tromped around like a lumbering elephant humming a tune I’ll forever remember. Despite having a major sweet tooth (something else we have in common) you stayed in great shape/could wear the same clothes you did when you were a young man. The wonderful people who checked on you at your home in Oshkosh over the years loved you, Dad. You made their jobs easy and sometimes fun. You would kid around with them as they did their best to keep up with you. The last meal I saw you have was when Cousin Scott and I visited you in December. You savored every last bite of that homemade chicken pot pie (which the caterers went out of their way to make for your celebration of life), followed by one of the chocolate covered cherries I brought for you. Shortly after our visit, you had surgery for a broken bone and recovered well (on the phone you sounded healthy/happy) in the hospital. Next you went to a rehabilitation facility and suddenly you were gone (January 19, 2024) to heaven with no warning. Our hearts were crushed. One of my favorite recent memories (walking the gardens/taking in God’s beauty) with you was at the Paine Art Museum in Oshkosh, only a few blocks from where you lived. On May 3, 2024, 85 loving people celebrated your life at the Paine Art Conservatory, Dad. Your sons, Robert, David (Air Force Veteran) and Benjamin (Air Force Veteran, who said a beautiful prayer, which ended with “The Lord’s Prayer,” before dinner) showed their willingness to help and contribute to one of your favorite charities (as you would have expected and appreciated, of your sons). Flowers were in full bloom in the gardens. Inside we had hundreds of more flowers (in every color) placed in every imaginable place (FYI, the bouquet from your Athens classmates of 1961 still looks fresh and smells beautiful). We celebrated “you” with pictures, mementos, your favorite music, a slide show (that your grandson, Austin, made, with love) and of course some of your favorite foods and desserts (the local bakery Pick ‘n Save ladies remember you/your orders over the years; they were very sad to hear of your sudden passing). “Seven Angels” (Connie, Lucas, Jenn, Ken, Elizabeth, Tonda, Austin) helped make sure everything went smoothly for your celebration of life. Others pitched in, too. Cousin Scott Lavicka made sure all your favorite beverages (and more) were cold and available. Dear Cousin Jean Crooks (Lavicka) has “been there” as an angel for me the past 4 months with loving words of encouragement/ care packages/precious pictures of you, Dad. She was at your celebration of life to show her love and support (along with her husband, daughter and grandchildren). Dad, I am like you with paying attention to detail when it really matters. Every single plate (which looked like wood as they were made from palm leaves) was inspected. The utensils were wooden (fit for a master carpenter) and part of the proceeds for these were donated to needy children. You were a manly man who could fix anything yet had flowers (from calendars you had saved from the charities you donated to) all over your walls. You displayed pictures of your children/grandchildren and about a hundred other things that meant something to you. You had the “Footprints in the sand” poem on your wall along with newspaper articles (sometimes modified in a humorous way) to convey what you were thinking. You wrote “letters to the editor” and made excellent points about our current state of affairs. Austin and I found countless dictionaries in your room (with thousands of footnotes); you were a lifelong learner, Dad, and this is something I’m always trying to encourage my students to become. You proudly had your grandson and me attend your Carpenters Union award’s ceremony where you received recognition for your service/contributions (long after you were no longer actively working for Local Union 955 because of a tragic truck accident in 1979). You were a meticulous record keeper and because of that, Austin was able to quickly find your original check from 1968 when you paid your first union dues. At your celebration of life one of your union brothers brought a box made for you (with a bible, inside), and a local master carpenter (Del) made you a flawless large box from birch, which we had engraved with loving words (including one of your quotes that will go on your memory bench plaque). Growing up I recall you as a disciplinarian (we needed that, at times) yet you could be so playful (always a kid at heart with games and snowmobile rides around our house in the city). Later in life you offered up words of wisdom when I needed my “dad” in times of heartache. Sometimes you would just listen and make me feel better about things going on in my life. Two of your favorite memories with your grandchildren was when you fed Judith as an infant and listening to Austin play anything (especially by Simon & Garfunkel) on his guitar; you would tap your foot and sing along. A few years ago we were able to connect your five children (and grandchildren) for some ice cream at a park across the street from your home. Your smile in the family photo reflects a happy/fulfilled/proud dad and grandpa. In your honor, some of the monetary contributions from generous friends and family will be going (in your name) to paralyzed Veterans. Also, a resting bench (being made right now) similar to the one in our last family photo will be going up on a trail near the water in Oshkosh. It will have a plaque including one of your made-up songs/sayings on it: “Put a smile on your face, a shoe with the lace, put it all together and you’ll keep a better pace.” As I get older I realize how much I am like you, Dad. I like Simon and Garfunkel, Peter Paul and Mary and The Carpenters (the only three 8-tracks we had in our vehicle driving up north to Athens). I like reading my Bible, seeing the humor in “life,” fixing things and making up songs/sayings. Like you, I can be misunderstood but those who know me know I have a heart that wants to give back to those less fortunate. Your grandson, Austin, is all these things, as well. We miss you so very much and will carry on your legacy, forever, Dad. With Love, your daughter, Christina