- Celebration of Life:
- Saturday 4/27 @ 1-6pm at the Hiram I. Bearss #089 Marine Corps League at 550 S Audubon Rd, Indianapolis, IN 46219
- Charities
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for his beloved wife whom he adored and cared for
for the comradery shared with these families and the support they've shown our family and others
for the many years he volunteered and the children he wanted to bring a happier life to
for his father David H, M.D.
David "Tom" Lindauer
Marine, Mentor, Beloved Father & Husband
Eulogy (as given by his eldest son, David "Davy")
A lot of you already know me. Most of the people in this room have seen me grow up in one capacity or another, many from me driving my toy motorcycle around the naval armory while mom ran the club upstairs and dad was downstairs running drill, or during one of my dad's deployments. In one way or another, you've all touched our family and my dad has had some of the greatest friends I've ever seen. The outpour of support from friends and family has been so meaningful and we're all really touched.
This last week has undoubtedly been the hardest of my life. I've cried more this week than I care to admit to. At the start of it, I wasn't sure how I could possibly make it through. I'm not sure I still have an answer for that one, but dad would want us to do our best and never lose hope, keep pushing optimistically for the future. He wasn't about sitting down and dwelling endlessly on things you can't change, nor would he want us to collapse in his absence. But what he was about, is overcoming obstacles. Overcoming the things that life puts in your way. Marching forward no matter how terrifying things may be, because failing on your mission is not an option.
My father was very much like the chocolate M&Ms I remember him sharing with me as a kid, often from his MREs: a tough, colorful exterior – but a soft, sweet interior just beneath. He was the kind of the guy who would tell everyone else in the world just how proud of you he was, just not you to your face. He was the kind of guy who would bend so far backwards to help anyone he considered friend or family, at the drop of a hat. And he considered a lot of you family. Depending on the day, he liked some of you more than some of his own family members. I can't tell you how many military families, neighbors, and boy scouts my dad felt it was his duty to help out if they were in need. And without all of you guys this week, I'm not sure how we could have made it through to today.
This man taught me countless life lessons, some I've only begun to appreciate as I've gotten older, and some I probably still have yet to fully appreciate. Sure, he taught me to tie my shoes, how to ride a bike, drive a car, and plenty of physical skills. But he taught me how to be a good person and do the right thing. He taught me the things it takes to be a loving husband and that sometimes you have to put someone else's needs above your own because you care about them so much and want to keep them safe.
I have to be honest, I didn't think I was going to be giving his eulogy anytime soon. I really thought that ornery jarhead was going to live to 100 like his grandfather just to spite us all. I didn't expect to be here, but dad taught me that we don't always get what we want in life and sometimes, life isn't fair. What I can say though, is I was incredibly lucky to have him in my life for the last 32 years, and I could not have asked for a better role model. He never once gave up, he never once said the task was too hard to complete, and he was never afraid to step up to the plate when life called.
The hardest part of writing this eulogy was that there is just so much to say about this man. Maybe it would be have been a more fitting tribute to jaw-jack your ear off like my dad may have been guilty of a time or two, but I'm not sure if I have the energy this week for a 2 hour monologue. And that man could talk. To anyone. For hours sometimes. I've heard him find out someone on the phone has a son in the military and spend the next 2 hours talking to them about it and offering advice.
Growing up with dad was fun. My brother and I had a lot of great experiences and we always knew dad was there and had our back. He spent 20 years at Comcast, taking the early shift and fighting traffic every day, so he could be home in the afternoons for Aaron and me. I'm not a morning person, I never understood how he did it, but damn if that man didn't sacrifice parts of himself for the good of his family.
As many of you know, my dad was military my whole life and deployed a couple of times. Every month after he came from drill, spaghetti was the meal in our household. It was dad's favorite and the comfort he wanted after putting in his time with the corps. Ask Aaron, he'll tell you that it wasn't even a question what meal was on the table. The first time he deployed, I was just a few years old and he was only gone a few weeks. I remember dad being gone, and then being at the airport waiting for him to come home, just so excited that dad was back. The second time, I was in high school and he was gone for a much longer time. I still remember the day he shipped out. December 18th, It was my little brother's birthday, and as dad turned away to walk towards the bus, it was the first time I truly remember seeing him cry. He turned quickly, never wanting to show weakness, always ready to portray strength for us. But damn if it didn't touch me. This man loved us so much, and it brought him so much pain to be away from his wife and boys.
I found a few journals my father kept while he was deployed that second time. I never realized that he kept personal logs during that time period but I'm glad he did. I wanted to share a few entries that I think exemplified who he was and how he felt about his duty and his family.
< JOURNAL ENTRIES HERE >He proved himself time and time again to be reliable, hard-working, and above all else an incredible and loyal husband and father. When my mother had a stroke a few years back and started requiring constant care, dad took up the challenge. For those of you that never saw him work their daily routine, you would not believe the extraordinary amount of love and effort he put into taking care of mom. When other men have flaked for far less, my dad met the challenge head on. He couldn't have made me any more proud. Even though I outgrew him in shoe size in the 8th grade, I'm not sure I can ever quite fill the shoes he left behind. But I promise I'm going to give it my best shot, because that's what he taught me to do.
My father only got 16 years with his dad, which now I know is nowhere near enough. Like me, his father inspired him to be the best man that he could be. After a week of looking through all of my dad's stuff, I can see how much extra he went out of his way to create memories and life lessons for us. He did his absolute best to make his boys into men he'd be proud to have carry on his legacy. I'd like to think he'd be proud of us for this week. Not for all the tears and late nights we pulled to bring this all together for him, he absolutely would have told us we're doing way too much and not to put ourselves out that much at his expense, but because the 3 of us banded together and came out on the other side, standing and intact.
We promised him years ago that if anything ever happened to him, mom had nothing to worry about and she'll always be taken care of. Well old man, I didn't expect you to call me out for duty this early, but you don't get to choose when you get called for the draft. Mom actually told me I didn't have to get up here and give a eulogy for my father. While I would have liked to shy away and protect myself, dad would have encouraged me to go for it and put my feelings aside for a moment, for the sake of others. Plus, this man gave me the best years of my life and helped shape me into the man I am today, I owe him for that.
While we may never feel entirely whole again from the void dad left behind, we'll fight on and stay strong. I hope he's enjoying his spaghetti after a hard life's work. Semper-Fi, Oo-rah!
Obituary
David "Tom" Tomio Lindauer - 60 of Camby IN passed away suddenly in his home on April 21. Dave was the oldest son of David and Beverly Lindauer, born in 1958 in Terre Haute, IN. He spent his youth at Culver Academy and met his wife, Elizabeth, at Purdue University in 1981. Dave served 16 years in the U.S. Marine Corps, earning the rank of Gunnery Sergeant, followed by 14 years in the U.S. Army. He was a dedicated father to his two sons, David and Aaron and spent many years as a board member of Decatur Little League as well as a Boy Scout leader for Pack #894. Dave worked at Comcast for 20 years before retiring in 2010. He spent his retirement volunteering at the VA Hospital, the VFW, and the Hiram I. Bearss #089 Marine Corps League as well as being the primary caretaker for his wife.
He was preceded in death by his grandparents, his father Dr. David H. Lindauer, and his Devil Dog, Chester.
Dave is survived by his wife of 36 years, Liz; sons, David (Kate) and Aaron Lindauer, his mother and step-father Beverly & Sid Griffiths; siblings Bruce "Fred" (Denice) Lindauer, Lani (Billy) Zeck, and Dawn Kovenock; nieces Melanie (Duncan) McAfee, Ashli Lindauer, nephew Andrew Zeck, and beloved dogs Moose & Mollie, as well as many aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces & nephews in the Dale, Indiana area and in-laws on the East Coast.
There will be a Celebration of Life, with a meal to follow, on Saturday April 27th from 1:00-6:00pm at Hiram I. Bearss #089 Marine Corps League, 550 S. Audubon Rd, Indianapolis Indiana 46219. Friends and family are encouraged to come share stories, photos and memories.
In his honor, please feel free to add your own pictures and tales to mourn this Marine and loving man.