John Charles Prida Obituary

Loved and appreciated the wonderful friendship between my husband Bill and I and John and Betty over the years. Many special times spent together. Bill passed on in 2013. I found out that John and Betty had passed on after the fact. Now, I' m wondering if this is correct about Betty. Their Family was exceptional. Lovingly, Dickie

Dad's Hands
If you knew my Dad, then at some point you probably noticed his hands.
Dad's hands were king-size and strong, even until the end.
With his hands, Dad built the homes where my family grew. His hands were always busy building and fixing things.
Dad's hands gave generously, served humbly, and loved my mom tenderly, unselfishly, completely, unendingly.
With his hands, Dad held me when I was small, steadied me when I stumbled and guided me in the right direction.
If

Dad's Hands
If you knew my Dad, then at some point you probably noticed his hands.
Dad's hands were king-size and strong, even until the end.
With his hands, Dad built the homes where my family grew. His hands were always busy building and fixing things.
Dad's hands gave generously, served humbly, and loved my mom tenderly, unselfishly, completely, unendingly.
With his hands, Dad held me when I was small, steadied me when I stumbled and guided me in the right direction.
If I needed help, I could always count on Dad's hands.
Sometimes Dad's hands had to correct me, discipline me, shield me, rescue me. Dad's hands protected me.
Dad's hands made beautiful things. As a self-taught carpenter, he crafted custom, purposeful furniture.
With brushes and strokes of color, Dad's hands painted masterpieces both great and small, from delicate watercolor blossoms to expansive mountain, land, and seascapes.
As a younger man, Dad cradled a football with those hands. Oh, how he loved that sport.
Dad dealt cards with his hands and played the bongos and tambourine. Oh, how that man loved percussion.
Dad and my brother took old rusty VW's and made them brand new with only their four hands.
And Dad danced, not only with his feet but this his hands and his whole body, including his bright, expressive face. And my Dad could really dance.
Dad's hand held mine when he walked me down the aisle. His hand gave me to my forever love, who, not surprisingly, is very much like Dad.
Dad's hands, I held them at the end. I didn't want to let go.
Dad's hands were the instruments of his great big, rugged-tender heart.
Dad's hands were strength.
Dad's hands were love.
He praised God with those hands.
And he prayed to the Father with those hands.
Dad's hands. They are like Jesus' hands to me.
--Mary Fairchild

Love you and miss you Dad!

Dad,
There are so many things I want to say to you. So many things that have been going through my mind. I think most people write things like this to read at funerals. I can't wait for that, and I know I could never make it through speaking when you are gone, I want you to know this now, I want you to know you are my hero, now and forever.

Dad, when I write about you I always say

Dad,
There are so many things I want to say to you. So many things that have been going through my mind. I think most people write things like this to read at funerals. I can't wait for that, and I know I could never make it through speaking when you are gone, I want you to know this now, I want you to know you are my hero, now and forever.

Dad, when I write about you I always say you are my hero, not because you rescued me from anything or took out a group of villains for me, or even climbed a mountain for me. You are my hero because everyday you lived for God and for your family. You have been faithful to that for as long as I could even recognize what it meant to be a dad, or a husband to my mom, or a grandfather to my kids. You are my hero not because you were physically strong, but because you have strength of character and commitment. You are my hero not because you could fix everything, but because you didn't have to. You are my hero not because you were brave and took care of me and your family, but because you showed us how to take care of others. You are my hero not because you always provided for me, but because you showed me how to work hard and give of myself. You are my hero not because you always put a roof over my head, but because you kept me safe and supported me while you did. You are my hero not because you were a carpenter, but because you were always ready to help us with our projects in life. You see dad YOU ARE A TRUE HERO TO ME.

Dad, are you perfect? No, none of us are, but God gave me the perfect dad for my life. I have never doubted your love for me. I've never doubted if you would be there for me, you have always been constant in my life. Dad, I love you more than you know and I am so thankful I have been able to spend so much time with you, the good and the bad. You are funny and caring, strong and daring, you are stubborn and smart, and super good with art. But most of all you will always be forever in my heart.

Although we didn't have the privilege of meeting your father, we can see the legacy he left as we see the pictures of the beautiful family he has left behind who share his love and devotion to the Lord, and the wonderful gift of creating an image of God's creations on canvas and developing it to bring pleasure to others, being a faithful servant to God, a faithful husband and a faithful father to his children. You are surely blessed to have so much in your heart to hold on to and to cherish until you meet with him again.

John was an inspiration to us in his faith and talent. We will miss his smile!

From an old friend Rest in peace John.

Bon Voyage John. I know you will be missed. Our deepest sympathy to your family and to our mutual friends.
Jerry Garcia

Offering our deepest condolences during this difficult time.

The HOLY Spirit will be the comfort for Betty and Family. John was so loved. Our loss, Heaven's gain. love you, Betty. Dickie Harris

John was a joyful classmate as we went through grade school at Sacred Heart Academy and high school at Jesuit High School in Tampa. We were on the football team as well and in our senior year due to circumstances, John was one of our coaches: he never lost that title of coach with our classmates.

We, his classmates, will miss a friend who always was a joy to be with at our many class reunions.

RIP. May his soul rest in peace.

May God continue to bless Betty and their wonderful family.