~Written by his daughter, Linda Ashley Conroy, and read at his funeral~
Today I learned just how important time is. As I started to write this, I found myself wishing that it was being said to my father weeks ago. Although I told him often how much I loved him, it did not seem nearly enough. So, for hours I have been sitting here contemplating all the things I should have done or could have said; convincing myself that time had become an enemy. But as I sat her battling the loss of time, I suddenly realized that is was not the enemy I had been painfully accusing it of being. It was "time" that had given me thirty-two years with my father--allowing me to have a relationship with him that would help mold me into the person I am today. All the moments I spent with him have now become the memories I cherish.
As a child, I thought the world would cease without my father in it. In my eyes, he was a hundred feet tall and had the answer to everything. There was nothing that my father could not do. He had the ability to fix anything no matter how impossible it seemed. From toys to toasters, he had a way to make them work once again. As I grew older, I no longer had toys for him to fix. My broken toys had been replaced with a broken life and heart. Although these were things that could not be glued back together, he always found a way to help me mend the rough edges, never giving up.
Many people throughout my father's life were touched by his compassion and kindness. He was a man with honor and principle. He tried to teach me the importance of values by living a life that reflected his beliefs. Many times he spent late hours at work or faced his job while sick. It was dedication to his family which kept him going; always having us as his priority. We were first in his heart.
As I reflect on all the things my father did for me, I understand why it was important that I had thirty-two years with him. No book or manual could ever replace the knowledge and lessons I learned by having him as my father, and nothing in this world could replace the love that was given unconditionally.
I will miss my father more that words will ever describe, but I am thankful for the time I had with him. I am proud to have had him as my father, and though I will never fit in his shoes, I hope I will be able to give to my children all that he has given to me. He was my teacher, my friend--but most of all, my "Dad."
________
Chuck Ashley was born the oldest child. His brother, Jule, was three years younger. He and his brother grew up in the mountain area of Deer Creek Canyon, Colorado. His younger years were tough due to being raised by a single mother and not having much in the way of money. He quit school at a young age to help support his family. When still a teenager, he moved away from home and from that point, remained on his own. He had a love for old cars and was a talented craftsman with a varity of material but he specialized in wood. He worked for some time at an auto body shop where he did custom paint jobs on the cars he loved. He enjoyed racing and joined in at times on the Englewood Speedway track in Englewood, CO. He was a bit of a rebel in his early years--many stories can be told of his mischief. But as the years went by, he became stable and soon married his love--my mother. "True Love" was their song--he would sing that to her. They were married for 40 years when my father left this life. He retired from Combs Gates Aviation in the later years--having worked there for the greater part of his life painting Learjets. He became ill in 1988 and it was a slow decline from that point. He passed away at our home on a Saturday morning. He called to my mother to come lay beside him-he knew it was his time. He passed away quiety that morning leaving a wife, two children, and his mother to mourn his loss.
Today I learned just how important time is. As I started to write this, I found myself wishing that it was being said to my father weeks ago. Although I told him often how much I loved him, it did not seem nearly enough. So, for hours I have been sitting here contemplating all the things I should have done or could have said; convincing myself that time had become an enemy. But as I sat her battling the loss of time, I suddenly realized that is was not the enemy I had been painfully accusing it of being. It was "time" that had given me thirty-two years with my father--allowing me to have a relationship with him that would help mold me into the person I am today. All the moments I spent with him have now become the memories I cherish.
As a child, I thought the world would cease without my father in it. In my eyes, he was a hundred feet tall and had the answer to everything. There was nothing that my father could not do. He had the ability to fix anything no matter how impossible it seemed. From toys to toasters, he had a way to make them work once again. As I grew older, I no longer had toys for him to fix. My broken toys had been replaced with a broken life and heart. Although these were things that could not be glued back together, he always found a way to help me mend the rough edges, never giving up.
Many people throughout my father's life were touched by his compassion and kindness. He was a man with honor and principle. He tried to teach me the importance of values by living a life that reflected his beliefs. Many times he spent late hours at work or faced his job while sick. It was dedication to his family which kept him going; always having us as his priority. We were first in his heart.
As I reflect on all the things my father did for me, I understand why it was important that I had thirty-two years with him. No book or manual could ever replace the knowledge and lessons I learned by having him as my father, and nothing in this world could replace the love that was given unconditionally.
I will miss my father more that words will ever describe, but I am thankful for the time I had with him. I am proud to have had him as my father, and though I will never fit in his shoes, I hope I will be able to give to my children all that he has given to me. He was my teacher, my friend--but most of all, my "Dad."
________
Chuck Ashley was born the oldest child. His brother, Jule, was three years younger. He and his brother grew up in the mountain area of Deer Creek Canyon, Colorado. His younger years were tough due to being raised by a single mother and not having much in the way of money. He quit school at a young age to help support his family. When still a teenager, he moved away from home and from that point, remained on his own. He had a love for old cars and was a talented craftsman with a varity of material but he specialized in wood. He worked for some time at an auto body shop where he did custom paint jobs on the cars he loved. He enjoyed racing and joined in at times on the Englewood Speedway track in Englewood, CO. He was a bit of a rebel in his early years--many stories can be told of his mischief. But as the years went by, he became stable and soon married his love--my mother. "True Love" was their song--he would sing that to her. They were married for 40 years when my father left this life. He retired from Combs Gates Aviation in the later years--having worked there for the greater part of his life painting Learjets. He became ill in 1988 and it was a slow decline from that point. He passed away at our home on a Saturday morning. He called to my mother to come lay beside him-he knew it was his time. He passed away quiety that morning leaving a wife, two children, and his mother to mourn his loss.
~Written by his daughter, Linda Ashley Conroy, and read at his funeral~
Today I learned just how important time is. As I started to write this, I found myself wishing that it was being said to my father weeks ago. Although I told him often how much I loved him, it did not seem nearly enough. So, for hours I have been sitting here contemplating all the things I should have done or could have said; convincing myself that time had become an enemy. But as I sat her battling the loss of time, I suddenly realized that is was not the enemy I had been painfully accusing it of being. It was "time" that had given me thirty-two years with my father--allowing me to have a relationship with him that would help mold me into the person I am today. All the moments I spent with him have now become the memories I cherish.
As a child, I thought the world would cease without my father in it. In my eyes, he was a hundred feet tall and had the answer to everything. There was nothing that my father could not do. He had the ability to fix anything no matter how impossible it seemed. From toys to toasters, he had a way to make them work once again. As I grew older, I no longer had toys for him to fix. My broken toys had been replaced with a broken life and heart. Although these were things that could not be glued back together, he always found a way to help me mend the rough edges, never giving up.
Many people throughout my father's life were touched by his compassion and kindness. He was a man with honor and principle. He tried to teach me the importance of values by living a life that reflected his beliefs. Many times he spent late hours at work or faced his job while sick. It was dedication to his family which kept him going; always having us as his priority. We were first in his heart.
As I reflect on all the things my father did for me, I understand why it was important that I had thirty-two years with him. No book or manual could ever replace the knowledge and lessons I learned by having him as my father, and nothing in this world could replace the love that was given unconditionally.
I will miss my father more that words will ever describe, but I am thankful for the time I had with him. I am proud to have had him as my father, and though I will never fit in his shoes, I hope I will be able to give to my children all that he has given to me. He was my teacher, my friend--but most of all, my "Dad."
________
Chuck Ashley was born the oldest child. His brother, Jule, was three years younger. He and his brother grew up in the mountain area of Deer Creek Canyon, Colorado. His younger years were tough due to being raised by a single mother and not having much in the way of money. He quit school at a young age to help support his family. When still a teenager, he moved away from home and from that point, remained on his own. He had a love for old cars and was a talented craftsman with a varity of material but he specialized in wood. He worked for some time at an auto body shop where he did custom paint jobs on the cars he loved. He enjoyed racing and joined in at times on the Englewood Speedway track in Englewood, CO. He was a bit of a rebel in his early years--many stories can be told of his mischief. But as the years went by, he became stable and soon married his love--my mother. "True Love" was their song--he would sing that to her. They were married for 40 years when my father left this life. He retired from Combs Gates Aviation in the later years--having worked there for the greater part of his life painting Learjets. He became ill in 1988 and it was a slow decline from that point. He passed away at our home on a Saturday morning. He called to my mother to come lay beside him-he knew it was his time. He passed away quiety that morning leaving a wife, two children, and his mother to mourn his loss.
Today I learned just how important time is. As I started to write this, I found myself wishing that it was being said to my father weeks ago. Although I told him often how much I loved him, it did not seem nearly enough. So, for hours I have been sitting here contemplating all the things I should have done or could have said; convincing myself that time had become an enemy. But as I sat her battling the loss of time, I suddenly realized that is was not the enemy I had been painfully accusing it of being. It was "time" that had given me thirty-two years with my father--allowing me to have a relationship with him that would help mold me into the person I am today. All the moments I spent with him have now become the memories I cherish.
As a child, I thought the world would cease without my father in it. In my eyes, he was a hundred feet tall and had the answer to everything. There was nothing that my father could not do. He had the ability to fix anything no matter how impossible it seemed. From toys to toasters, he had a way to make them work once again. As I grew older, I no longer had toys for him to fix. My broken toys had been replaced with a broken life and heart. Although these were things that could not be glued back together, he always found a way to help me mend the rough edges, never giving up.
Many people throughout my father's life were touched by his compassion and kindness. He was a man with honor and principle. He tried to teach me the importance of values by living a life that reflected his beliefs. Many times he spent late hours at work or faced his job while sick. It was dedication to his family which kept him going; always having us as his priority. We were first in his heart.
As I reflect on all the things my father did for me, I understand why it was important that I had thirty-two years with him. No book or manual could ever replace the knowledge and lessons I learned by having him as my father, and nothing in this world could replace the love that was given unconditionally.
I will miss my father more that words will ever describe, but I am thankful for the time I had with him. I am proud to have had him as my father, and though I will never fit in his shoes, I hope I will be able to give to my children all that he has given to me. He was my teacher, my friend--but most of all, my "Dad."
________
Chuck Ashley was born the oldest child. His brother, Jule, was three years younger. He and his brother grew up in the mountain area of Deer Creek Canyon, Colorado. His younger years were tough due to being raised by a single mother and not having much in the way of money. He quit school at a young age to help support his family. When still a teenager, he moved away from home and from that point, remained on his own. He had a love for old cars and was a talented craftsman with a varity of material but he specialized in wood. He worked for some time at an auto body shop where he did custom paint jobs on the cars he loved. He enjoyed racing and joined in at times on the Englewood Speedway track in Englewood, CO. He was a bit of a rebel in his early years--many stories can be told of his mischief. But as the years went by, he became stable and soon married his love--my mother. "True Love" was their song--he would sing that to her. They were married for 40 years when my father left this life. He retired from Combs Gates Aviation in the later years--having worked there for the greater part of his life painting Learjets. He became ill in 1988 and it was a slow decline from that point. He passed away at our home on a Saturday morning. He called to my mother to come lay beside him-he knew it was his time. He passed away quiety that morning leaving a wife, two children, and his mother to mourn his loss.
