I met Doc in January when I moved my husband into the memory care facility.  He sat at the table with Henry and I.  Every day for lunch and dinner, Doc and I had spirited conversations.  I heard all about where he went to school for medical training; where he lived growing up and many more wonderful tales of a great life lived.   I miss him, but I'm glad that the struggle is over.  I'm also very blessed to have had him there to help us get through the day.  Sending love and prayers to his wonderful family as they celebrate his life.  

                                Weep Not for Me - Author Unknown


Weep not for me though I have gone

Into that gentle night

Grieve if you will, but not for long

Upon my soul’s sweet flight


I am at peace, my soul’s at rest

There is no need for tears

For with your love I was so blessed

For all those many years


There is no pain, I suffer not

The fear is now all gone

Release it from your thoughts

In your memory I live on


Remember not my fight for breath

Remember not the strife

Please do not dwell upon my death

But celebrate my life


forces in Korea. I will miss that time spent with him and even before when it was just me and him.

Though the memories of our experiences with Dad likely differ, we all were influenced by his wisdom and guidance as kids when growing up and later as adults. However, there is one memory we all share of Dad and that is his easy-going, good-natured, loving spirit and how he would always greet us with a handshake and say goodbye with a hug, a kiss, and the words, “I love you.” On this Earth, Dad will be keenly missed by each of us, but we will see him again, along with Mom, in Heaven.

4

build upon themselves!

The family would sometimes accompany Dad on house calls out into the country from our home in Boonville. Once I remember Dad coming back to the car crying after having been in a patient’s house for a while. He was upset that the patient had died, having done all he could do to help the patient live. Mom hugged and consoled him from the front seat of the car while us kids looked on with sad faces. Both were showing compassion, Dad for the patient who had passed and Mom for Dad.

Dad loved Mom and seemed to do anything Mom wanted him to do. He would often say, “What Lola wants Lola gets.”  He also would describe how Mom would approach him when she wanted to do something or buy something. She would say to Dad, “Do you think we could buy this or do that?” Of course, he always complied, buying anything, and going anywhere she wanted because, as he said, he loved her.

When Mom had her stroke and was laying brain dead in the hospital, Dad and I stayed with her, waiting for her last breath. While we waited, Dad often leaned over Mom, weeping, and repeatedly whispering into her ear, “Let’s go home.”  It was so sad. And now we are seeing Dad off to join her.

In the last several months of his life, Dad and I spent a lot of time together, enjoying a beer or chocolate milkshake (sometimes both), and me listening to him repeat stories about experiences he had growing up as a youth, when he first met Mom and their life together, and when he was an Army private, serving with the WWII occupation 

                                                             3

residency at Georgetown University, learning to be a psychiatrist, he worked part-time for the Washington D.C. government in some medical capacity that I don’t recall. After completing the residency, Dad’s business as a psychiatrist grew to three offices in Northern Viriginia. Eventually, he, Mom, and the children still living at home, moved to Williamsburg where Dad worked out of one office and the family enjoyed a slower pace of life. All that hard work helped to provide us with a comfortable lifestyle, access to opportunities not available to the less fortunate and memorable vacations and holiday and birthday celebrations. Thank you, Dad!

When we would get into trouble and Dad felt we deserved a spanking with his belt, we learned that if we could get him to laugh, he often would not spank us or not as hard. Thank goodness he had a sense of humor and was forgiving.
When we lived on Degonia Road in Boonville, his mother died. I remember Dad coming home and standing in the kitchen, crying, while embraced by Mom. Dad, I felt, showed he was vulnerable and tender hearted. 

Dad taught us to be generous with others less fortunate. I remember in Boonville carrying baskets of food up the steps to peoples’ porches, leaving them to enjoy fruit and sweets at Christmas time.
I rarely witnessed Mom and Dad having an argument, at least not in front of us kids. Sometimes, when we did see them argue, Dad would leave the house, leaving Mom in tears. He would return after a bit, and they would embrace and kiss to make up, showing us that love endures.

Shortly after graduating high school, I remember Dad asking me about my plans for the future. I told him I didn’t know what I wanted to do. He said that whatever it is, try to be the best at it, even if it is ditch digging, and, preferably, choose something that helps others. 
Throughout growing up, Dad would have me help him do various chores. He would always say, “The more you do, the more you can do!” as the skills will

2

Memories of Dad - 8-12-2024

Unlike Mom who left us suddenly, it was a blessing that we all had an opportunity to spend time with Dad before he passed on from Earth to Heaven.

Besides Dad having been Mom's husband for 68 years, much of what I remember of him is that he was to me and likely to each of us, his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, a hero, provider, mentor, friend and sometimes a character. 

As a child, my first memory of Dad is him pulling me out from between the open doors of a bookcase that had fallen with me when I climbed up it to take down books he was packing for our next move. Following my rescue, Dad hugged me as I cried. It would not be the last time he rescued one of us from danger.

I remember Dad taking me to a barber in Speedway, Indiana for my first professional haircut to help get me ready for starting kindergarten. The barber placed a board across the arms of the barber chair, and I remember the strength in Dad’s arms as I was swiftly lifted from the floor and placed gently down on the board. I recall that at hospice, one of the nurses called Dad a strong man. I suspect she meant not physically strong, but strong in his ability to hold onto life.

Dad worked hard to support and care for our growing family. He seemed to frequently find ways to make extra money. When he was attending Evansville College, he worked nights as a factory worker. When he was attending medical school, I remember us parking cars for a fee in our front yard in Speedway so spectators could attend the Indianapolis 500. In Boonville, Indiana, besides seeing patients in the hospital, in his office and on house calls, Dad did physicals for professional wrestlers, in town to put on shows in the high school's gym, and he dealt with injured employees at the Alcoa aluminum plant in Yankeetown. He also served as Booneville’s medical examiner and checked on drunks in the town's jail. When Dad was in 

                                                           1

My grandfather, “Papaw” as I called him or “Moonbeam,” the name my kids called him, since they named Meemaw, my grandmother, “Sunshine”, was a man of deep love, wisdom, and humor. He often spoke of Meemaw, with such tenderness and admiration. Their love story was a guiding light in our family—a testament to what true partnership and devotion look like. He would often recall her with a smile, saying how much he missed her every single day and how he thought of her constantly. He used to say that he could never say “no” to her because she was so “kindly”. It’s a sentiment that speaks to the gentle, loving relationship they shared.

One of my favorite memories of him is how, after every delicious meal my grandmother prepared, he would lean back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face, and declare, “Mighty tasty, Di-Ann.” That phrase became his trademark, a symbol of the deep appreciation and love he had for her. It’s something that has always stayed with me, a small but powerful reminder of their connection.

Beyond the love for his wife, my grandfather had a wealth of wisdom that he generously shared with those around him. As a doctor, he dedicated his life to helping others, but his wisdom extended far beyond his professional life. He often offered me advice, particularly about my work with children. His insights were profound, yet simple, and they’ve had a lasting impact on the way I approach my teaching.  

He also had a wonderful sense of humor. He loved telling stories that brought laughter to all who listened. These stories were not just amusing; they reflected his deep understanding of people and his ability to find joy in even the most serious of situations.

I find comfort in the knowledge that Papaw is at peace, reunited with the love of his life, Meemaw. His legacy lives on in all of us—in the wisdom he shared, the love he showed, and the memories we will carry in our hearts forever.

With love, Dori-Ann

Uncle Jim (as he was known to us), family and our family vacations were so great. Love how the brothers wore their “hats”.  So glad we were able to know him,  Aunt Di-Ann and all of you.  Were we not fortunate to have such wonderful parents 💙  

Dear Cousins,
So sorry to hear about Uncle Jim. What a good long life he had. Surrounded by loving family. He and our Dad, his brother Robert, were close friends. They really enjoyed those family reunions.  They had so much in common, being doctors, having big families, with lots of kids. Love to all of you.   Cindy

For Rita and family, so sorry to hear of your loss. May you have comfort in your memories. 

Jim and Di-Ann loved the holidays, especially Christmas!  Family gatherings were really important to both of them as was making everyone feel welcomed and valued. 

So many memories created in your wonderful life! Your love for mom, your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren was ever present and you made it known in every phone call that ended with “I love you “, every special occasion you enthusiastically celebrated, every thoughtful and supportive conversation held and through all you did to care for our family and  provide a path for us to create our own meaningful lives. We love you dad and your loss is profound. We take comfort in knowing you and mom are together again.

Grandpa, 

I love you and I miss you. I feel so thankful that I got to grow up seeing you and grandma often, both on holidays and just regular days. As a child, I remember going to Cracker Barrel for breakfast with you, grandma, and some of your friends. I remember going on various shopping trips with you both, with classical music always playing on the car radio. Even at home, the radio next to your chair played light classical music while you read one of your books (maybe Chinese poetry!).

Holidays were also so memorable, especially around Christmas time. I always think about the days leading up to Christmas, when grandma would cook a meal for advent, and you would read a passage from the Bible before we dug in. I love how much you showed your care and adoration for your wife. No matter what she cooked, no matter what comments other people may have made about the food, you always made sure to tell her, "Might tasty, Di-Ann!" If someone dared to say the food was burnt, you would counter with, "It's not burnt, it's blackened," with a smile on your face. Ever the optimist. That's something I always admired about you, your optimism. Even when people's conversation took a downward turn, or if grandma was grumpy at something, you'd try to lighten the mood by saying, "Christmas is coming!"

Haha... Christmas was always coming. It didn't matter what month it was.

Grandpa, you are greatly missed by those of us still here on Earth. Your memory and legacy lives on through each of us. What an extraordinary and fulfilling life you lived here! Now you may be with your beloved Di-Ann once more.

Love Always,
Rachel

OBITUARY

James David Dimmett

August 29, 1929 – August 4, 2024

Nelsen Williamsburg

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