Frank Garr, 66, of Knowlton, WI, passed away peacefully on July 1, 2025, at 11:40 a.m. at Aspirus Stevens Point Hospital.

He is survived by his devoted wife of 37 years, Lisa; his children, Kaitlyn, Tessa, Taylor, and Frank Jr.; his brother, Brian; and his beloved grandchildren, Orion, Finley, and Beau. He was preceded in death by his parents, Phil and Donna; his sister, Kelly; and his niece, Jennifer.

A Celebration of Life will be held at the family home on Lake DuBay on July 20th from 2:00 to 6:00 p.m. All who knew Frank and his friends are welcome to attend, share memories, and honor his life.

Below are written tributes about Frank from each member of his immediate family.

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From his wife, Lisa:

Frank and I fell in love after meeting at his sister's funeral. Just nine months later, we were married, and over the next six years, we had four children. Our children were Frank's pride and joy. He was a wonderful father.

My husband loved to read, especially non-fiction and history. He could devour two or three books a week. When our house burned down several years ago, we had more than two thousand books on the shelves because Frank never wanted to part with a good read. Sometimes, he would read the same book three or four times. He loved retaining knowledge, and some of my favorite memories are from our family road trips, when Frank would share fascinating facts from whatever book he had just finished—whether it was about Native American history, the Russian gulags, or ancient civilizations.

Frank had many hobbies over the years, but the one he loved most was flying. He became a licensed pilot and bought his ultralight airplane. Soon enough, he was giving flights to everyone in the neighborhood. Some days, there would be a line of neighbors waiting for a turn in the sky with Frank. He never lost the thrill of being in the air.

Frank had a big heart and was loved by many. Most of his closest friends were people he'd known since junior high. He was also a wonderful companion. After our children moved out and we had an empty nest, we often sat together watching YouTube music videos or news shows—we both loved politics—and there was never a dull moment between us.

Then our grandson Orion came into our lives, and everything changed. Orion became our shared joy. Frank loved holding him on his lap, and later, watching Orion put on dance shows just for him. Orion used to lie on Frank's belly and say, "Big Papa, I don't even need a pillow—your tummy is my pillow!" Then came Finley and Beau, and we were blessed with three grandchildren Frank couldn't have been prouder of or more in love with.

After Phil and Donna passed away, we were able to move into Frank's childhood home on Lake DuBay—a place he cherished. He loved boating and fishing there, and it brought him peace.

Frank had a heart as big as his presence. He would give his last dollar to someone who needed it. He was kind, generous, full of love, and easy to love in return.

I will miss him deeply.

From his oldest daughter, Kaitlyn:

My dad was a giant of a man. He was tall and easily spotted in a crowd, and at my orchestra concerts, I was always embarrassed that my name could be heard above all others because of my dad's booming voice.

His hands were enormous and strong. They barely felt pain. As a child, he would always help me prepare my baked potato when the skin was too hot for anyone else to handle. He would fearlessly cut slivers from his hand (and ours), and wrangle snakes from the water without gloves.

His belly was large and round, perfectly shaped to cradle his infant grandchildren as they were slowly lulled to sleep by his warmth and his enormous hands practically covering them. My son came to learn that to be in Big Papa's lap was to fall asleep, and soon began to resist the tactic.

My dad, who shares Harry Potter's birthday, always reminded me of the character Hagrid. Big, and therefore often misunderstood. He was a gentle giant who appeared tough and scary and intimidated many a boyfriend, but was a softie at heart. This was especially clear in his love for our cats, Marvin and Marvin II. My dad resisted the acquisition of both, but they quickly became his biggest fans. He also willingly adopted my cat, Egg, when I had to move in with my parents unexpectedly. Egg took to him right away and could often be seen riding on the seat of his walker, getting pushed around the house.

There are so many regrets and things I wish I could have said. The final lesson my dad is teaching me is that life is short and unpredictable. I hope he knows that I love him, that my children love him, and that I am so grateful for the time they had with their Big Papa.

Though my relationship with my dad had many ups and downs, there was never any doubt in my mind that he loved me, and I know he was proud of me. One of the last things I heard him say was that he had not one, but two pharmacist daughters.

I love you, Dad. And I miss you so much already.

From his middle daughter, Tessa:

My father, Frank Garr, was an incredible man. To know him was to love him. He was an incredible father, and my siblings and I were so lucky to have him as our dad. He always said his greatest joy in life was being a father.

He left us too soon, and unexpectedly, on the very day we were going to bring him home from the hospital. He simply stopped breathing in his sleep on July 1st at 11:40 AM. There was a CNA in his room when he passed, and she didn't even notice when he died.

My dad taught me so many important lessons in my life. I thought we had more time together for him to teach me more, but his time grew too short.

The final lesson he gave me is one that I did not expect to learn so soon: that death is not scary. My dad did not "fear the reaper," as he told me many times when we talked about our inevitable mortality. Death is not something to be afraid of. It can be as simple as taking one last breath, in your sleep, and not waking up. It brings me some small comfort knowing that he crossed the cosmic divide without pain, fear, or struggle.

I was so certain I had at least ten more years with my dad. I should have visited more, should have called more. I never dreamed that the last time I saw him would be the last time.

Until we meet again, Dad, I will look for you around every corner. Please visit me sometime. I wasn't ready for you to leave, and I'm left with a huge void in my heart that can never be filled. I will always love you, IWALY.

I'm so proud that you were the person who chose my name.

From his youngest daughter, Taylor:

My dad was a big man. He was 6'4" with a booming voice; you could always spot him in a crowd.

He needed a body that size for several reasons, one of which was to hold his heart, which was so big it had room for everybody. He made friends everywhere. He loved his wife, children, and grandchildren more than life itself—and he made sure they always knew that. He loved his parents and siblings deeply and was always there for them. He loved his friends, including those he had known since he was young. He loved living on Lake DuBay and sharing it with others. He loved music, boating, fishing, swimming, and reading, the list goes on.

He also needed room for his big brain. Dad spent countless hours—probably thousands—reading. He inherited his love for reading from his mother, Donna, and passed it down to my sister, Kaitlyn. Dad loved to read about history. You could ask him anything, and he would know the answer. He never once used Google in his life. He knew every inch of Lake DuBay and taught me and my brother how to drive the boat and where to drive it. He learned about airplanes and how to fly. He got his pilot's license. He loved learning and teaching us new things and words.

He also needed to have large hands, the biggest many people have ever seen. They were strong enough to hold the hands of the people he loved when they needed him. His hand would cover yours completely. He never hesitated to hold my hand in public, even if it embarrassed me when I was a bratty teen. As an adult, it made me proud. We will all miss that feeling—it is irreplaceable.

Lastly, he needed big, long arms and a big belly to give the biggest bear hugs you could imagine. Nothing made you feel safer and more loved than being in his arms. I used to lay next to him, and he'd put his arm around me, and I would feel so incredibly protected. Then he would tickle me until I couldn't breathe. When I'd try to get up, he'd pretend not to let me go. If only he were here to hold me now.

The one problem with Dad being such a big man is that he has left a giant hole in my heart. No one will ever be able to fill the void left by my smart, brave, strong, and deeply loving father.

Rest in peace, Dad.

Your Sandy, Scooter, Dipsy Dauber misses you already.

IWALY.

From his only son, Frank Jr. -

My dad was an amazing man with a big heart—the biggest.

He loved adventure, and he loved animals. He had a deep passion for history and loved teaching us about it. He loved reading. He loved flying his airplane. But more than anything else, he loved his children.

He always said he didn't want to be remembered in a hospital bed. And the funny thing is—after he passed away, I've never remembered him that way.

I remember him as someone I could talk to about anything and get the most genuine advice, because he had lived through so much. I remember his spirit of adventure, his curiosity, and his love. He was a man of literature, a walking dictionary.

I remember the advice he gave me that I didn't always follow. I remember the songs he made me listen to, the stories he told about his childhood. He was always the life of the party—at least to me. I thought he was so cool. I looked up to him more than I ever told him.

As cliché as it sounds, he was my hero. I always wanted to make him proud.

I'll always remember you, Dad—the way you wanted to be remembered. I love you so much.

You were a great dad. The greatest.

Mid-Wisconsin Cremation Society is currently assisting the family. Online condolences can be expressed at MWCS.WS.