Thank you all for your kind thoughts, prayers and kind words. They have been much appreciated. I shared this today at Dads funeral. My father was a great man. He did not graduate from college or run a corporation. He didn’t invent anything or run for political office. There won’t be any memorial services in St. Patrick’s Church in New York City today with thousands of people attending. Yet, he was a great man. He was great in the truest sense of the word. He asked for little, he worked hard and he loved his family. He was a devoted father, a loving husband and a good friend to those who shared his dedication to family. He was a simple man. An honest man. He was a man who instilled devotion from his children, not by asking for it, but simply by example, by the way that he lived. My father got me my first job at 15, working summers in the same factory that he worked in at Continental Can Company. I can remember my sense of pride just working in the same building that my dad worked in. Sometimes, I would see him working on the big presses and I would swell with pride thinking that he was my father and that I was somehow, just like him. There was nothing that made me feel better than to think that I was like my father, in any way. Sometimes, in the very early morning, usually around 5:00, I would hear my father leave for work, and when he turned out of his room to walk down the hall, he would pass my room and I could smell the Old Spice aftershave that he wore. So, in the mornings, after he left and I was getting ready to go to school, I would into his room and splash on a few drops of Old Spice. When everyone else at school was wearing Hai Karate, Canoe and English Leather, I would be the only kid wearing Old Spice, just to be like my dad. When we went to the beach and I saw my dad lugging the cooler, the beach umbrella and the blankets from the parked car to the sand on the beach, I would rush over to try to help, not because I was really trying to help, but because I wanted to be just like him. When I was a young boy and I played outside, I would make sure that I rubbed extra dirt and mud on my clothes and face so that I would look like dad when he came home from work. I wanted to be just like him. I even tried to learn to dance like him, because when my dad danced, he was always happy and smiling. Unfortunately, I failed at this one. As much as I tried, I couldn’t be like dad when it came to dancing. The connection a son has with his father shapes his life. That connection has an almost mystical, magical impact on a son. Whenever I accomplished anything in my life, I always thought of my father and hoped that he felt proud of me, and that he somehow understood that he had directly participated and been responsible for in any success that I had as a young man, a father and a husband. Dad gave far too much credit to me for those things than I deserved, for it was he who had planted the seeds of hard work and the example of being a good man in me long before those things happened. I credit most everything that I have accomplished in my life to my father’s deep love for me, something that I have always been aware of from my early childhood to this very moment. I have never had a doubt in my mind that his love for myself, my brother and my sister was completely, totally unconditional. He loved us with every ounce of his being. I was always full of joy when there was something that I accomplished that made dad happy. When I brought my first paycheck home, when I bought my first house, when I got married, when I accomplished something in sports, when I climbed a mountain, when I graduated from college, when my children were born. Whatever it was, always, in these things, my father was on my mind and I felt a sense warmth and love knowing that they resulted in a feeling of happiness and pride for my father. But that was the kind of man my father was. His greatness was that he instilled in others a desire to be like him. Honest. Hardworking. Living life with a quiet dignity that was hard to grasp and miraculous to see. He was sweet and loving, honest and a man of deep integrity. He took great pride in his children and was at peace with the fact that his children had turned out to be capable and able to take care of themselves and their families. He died the way that he had lived. Quietly, with little commotion, going about his business, surrounded by those who loved him. There is nothing that I could say here today that could honor him more than to say that I am so proud to be his son and that if I could say, at the end of my own life that I was half the man he was, I would be happy. When we were all sitting with dad in his bed this past week, I turned to my brother and asked him a question that I hoped that my father would hear. I asked Jimmy if he had told dad about the new job that was waiting for him. He looked at me quizzically and said no, he hadn’t. Then, I turned to Dad, and said to him, “Dad, I have some great news. When you get to heaven they have a job waiting for you as Coach of the Delaware Angels. They haven’t had a winning season in four years and they really want you to get up there and get them back to their winning ways.” I know that Dad is happy to be there, playing ball with the boys. Have a great season Pop.
Posted on: Sun, 10 Nov 2013 01:04:30 +0000
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