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In memory of
Mr. Harry Joseph Billiot, Sr.
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$4,945.00
of $15,000 goal
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Background
My dad, Harry J. Billiot, Sr., went home to be with his Savior this evening, August 7th, 2023.
When my dad was diagnosed with cancer in November 2022, it began a journey in discovering just how fragile life really is. I, like other kids, naively believed my parents were invincible. Over the last several years, little by little I’ve had to come to terms with my parents’ mortality.
My dad became my mom’s primary caregiver after her stroke in 2020. Even though they divorced in 2004, they were still the best of friends and did everything together. My dad’s throat cancer started with persistent hoarseness.
Because of his strength, my dad never complained about sickness or discomfort. He brushed off the hoarseness and continued living life, giving generously of his time and skill. My dad loved mowing grass for neighbors and fixing things that were broken. He was a selfless and simple man.
The most challenging part of the last several months has been the inability to communicate effectively with my dad. Because of his illiteracy, losing his voice stripped away his ability to use words to communicate. I’m reminded of the words of St. Augustus, “Share the gospel always. When necessary, use words.”
My dad was an expert at sharing his love with the world through action. He may not have been a man of complex and eloquent words, but action blanketed in love speaks more than even the smoothest tongue. Blanketing the world in love is what good fathers do.
Through all the struggle and the pain, my dad remained steadfast in his joy. His infectious smile is what I and many others will always remember.
We prayed fervently for a different outcome, but healing happens on both sides of the grave.
As Kelly and I sat with him at the oncologist appointment last week, we were presented with options, none of which would answer our prayer to preserve his life so that his leathery hands, worn from years of laboring in love, could hold his newborn grandson just a little longer. This sucks.
There are no other words to describe this pain. I now understand what Jesus meant when he wept over Jerusalem and prayed “if there’s any other way, Lord, let this cup pass.”
My dad didn't have life insurance. We are concerned about providing for his final expenses. Please pray for wisdom on how to navigate paying for final expenses. If you feel compelled to gift towards funeral arrangements for my dad, please feel free to use this page to facilitate your gift. Contribute
When my dad was diagnosed with cancer in November 2022, it began a journey in discovering just how fragile life really is. I, like other kids, naively believed my parents were invincible. Over the last several years, little by little I’ve had to come to terms with my parents’ mortality.
My dad became my mom’s primary caregiver after her stroke in 2020. Even though they divorced in 2004, they were still the best of friends and did everything together. My dad’s throat cancer started with persistent hoarseness.
Because of his strength, my dad never complained about sickness or discomfort. He brushed off the hoarseness and continued living life, giving generously of his time and skill. My dad loved mowing grass for neighbors and fixing things that were broken. He was a selfless and simple man.
The most challenging part of the last several months has been the inability to communicate effectively with my dad. Because of his illiteracy, losing his voice stripped away his ability to use words to communicate. I’m reminded of the words of St. Augustus, “Share the gospel always. When necessary, use words.”
My dad was an expert at sharing his love with the world through action. He may not have been a man of complex and eloquent words, but action blanketed in love speaks more than even the smoothest tongue. Blanketing the world in love is what good fathers do.
Through all the struggle and the pain, my dad remained steadfast in his joy. His infectious smile is what I and many others will always remember.
We prayed fervently for a different outcome, but healing happens on both sides of the grave.
As Kelly and I sat with him at the oncologist appointment last week, we were presented with options, none of which would answer our prayer to preserve his life so that his leathery hands, worn from years of laboring in love, could hold his newborn grandson just a little longer. This sucks.
There are no other words to describe this pain. I now understand what Jesus meant when he wept over Jerusalem and prayed “if there’s any other way, Lord, let this cup pass.”
My dad didn't have life insurance. We are concerned about providing for his final expenses. Please pray for wisdom on how to navigate paying for final expenses. If you feel compelled to gift towards funeral arrangements for my dad, please feel free to use this page to facilitate your gift. Contribute
Funds are being collected and disbursed by Jonathan Billiot, Harry's son.
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