A Patient Story: Eric Stephen Lego

Written by Adrianne Lego (Daughter)

Inspired by Justin Lego (Son) and Stuart Lego (Son)

Eric Stephen Lego was the ultimate dad.  I am the  youngest of his three children, and the only girl.  For this “daddy’s girl”– no man will ever compare.  He was someone who had that ability to understand and accept people and life circumstances for exactly as they were.  Dad never tried to change us, but he held this extraordinary ability to guide and nudge us back on course when we were headed down the wrong path.  Somehow, he was able to do that without casting judgment over our shortcomings, poor decisions, and epic failures.   He may not have said the words “I love you” very often, but because of him, I believe that unconditional love really does exist.

Eric was a well-respected business man who had an authoritative side to him.  But as a father, he was rather selfless and all-in.  He packed our lunches every single day until we graduated high school.  We were spoiled.  But he also instilled a strong work ethic in all his children. He taught us that you don’t have to spend money to have a good time, but it’s also okay to have nice things.  He supported us in every hobby we wanted to pursue. He was there for every practice, every den meeting,  every game, and every recital.  He stood in a dusty barn in the dead cold of winter for years so I could ride that horse I was obsessed with.  In a house full of aspiring musicians, he tolerated more than his fair share of unfortunate instrument sounds.  Dad was also an avid outdoorsman, and made sure that each of his children, and even their friends, knew how to tie a fishing knot and survive in the wilderness.  He was idolized by the neighborhood boys for single handedly stopping a burning tree from turning into a major forest fire.  He was manly and strong, but he was also relentlessly silly and loved to catch us in our most embarrassing moments, always making sure we never took life too seriously.  Many of our friends have told us “Your dad is the dad I always wished I had.”

Dad also taught me not to give up on things.   When I graduated college, I bought myself a bonsai tree.   Three years in, every single leaf fell off the tree.  I killed it.  I was walking it down the steps one day to throw it away, and he stopped me, saying, “No, don’t throw that away! I want that thing. Let me keep it.”  A year later, he had a surprise for me.  That tree had a brand-new shoot on it with budding leaves.  Today, the tree lives on and is bigger than ever.  I think it looks more like an olive tree now.  A symbol of peace and reconciliation.  An offering of second chances.

This tree has become very symbolic in my grief process.  My father suffered an unexpected and untimely death.  On New Years Eve, he was 100% himself.  Two nights later, Dad was on a ventilator in the ICU, never to wake up again.  Despite intense medical treatment, his prognosis just kept getting worse.  Dad was transferred to Doey’s House where he passed on January 9th.  Devastation isn’t a strong enough word to describe this loss.   Like that withering bonsai tree, existence feels futile at times.  But somehow, that bonsai rebounded to live a full and vibrant life again.  It just looks different than it did before.  I hope for anyone who has suffered an unfathomable loss, that we can all find our version of living life to the fullest again, even though our lives will never be the same. 

I couldn’t have hand picked a better man for myself than the father I was given.  Every day presents a new challenge in carrying on without him.   I will never stop missing that man.  I don’t know much, but do I know that I will always be so proud to call Eric Lego my Dad.