I'd like to start off by talking about our Dad, as he was, just a very short time ago; and as, we will always remember him.

Dad had a never ending great sense of humor, as most of you know me, and my dry sense of humor, I think I can honestly say, that it is apparent I get most of it from my Dad. My brother's sense of humor is along the same lines. I think it must be genetics. When my Dad was in the hospital, this last time, his sense of humor was there, in the fore-front. It helped us all; those of us in the room and his son on the phone. Dad’s humor has seen us though the great, the good and the difficult times.

For the past 23 years his primary doctor was Dr. Michael Myers. Since 1986 when dads lung disease became prevalent Dr. Myers provided him with the treatment and care to give dad the best quality of life that could be afforded to him during his retirement years. Dr. Myers efforts were far beyond a doctor and patient relationship he was truly a friend who dad could call anytime talk to, joke with and share a part of his life with. Their friendship was such, that my Dad had asked him to let him know when his condition became such, that hope was bleak; and when it was time to let nature and God take it’s course. Thank you Dr. Myers for everything you have done for all of us.

On Tuesday April 23 that time arrived. Dr. Myers looked at Dad and said "Tom I'd promise I'd tell you when its time and it’s time now" - they talked about not doing DNR (Do not resuscitate) and DNI (Do not inturbate). Dad most appreciably understood. After Dr. Myers, left the room, I asked Dad if he understood what Dr. Myers had told him. He said yes. He pondered for a brief moment then said "ok its time" my response was "not now, you have a while to go". We both chuckled and chatted on. Later that night, Dad got a little distraught, the phone had been turned off, and the nurses wouldn't call me as it was 2AM in the morning. So, when I showed up at 6AM, he looked at me, and told me, he was angry with me. I asked why, he said that he thought we had left him to die. So I asked him why didn't he just give up, he then said he was too angry, and wouldn't give me the satisfaction. Again, we both chuckled and chatted on.

Several years ago, dad and I were in the car going someplace, and we talked about our funerals and what we would want. We laughed a little and both agreed that we should have trial runs. That was to make sure that people would say the things we would want them to say, or we could stop them, and give them our scripts. For the most part we agreed that our funerals would be filled with laughter and maybe even some jokes. Tears were not a consideration. He wanted people to remember him not in sadness but the joy he shared with everyone.

Dad would not want us to spend much time, if any, morning. He wasn't much for morning. He did miss Mom, and talked about the good times in the past, but he really relished life. When you think of him, remember, he enjoyed laughter, and as I have said, had a wonderful and unique sense of humor. He enjoyed meeting people. He would always see the good in them, he had integrity, a quiet courage, a simple generosity, and a deep thoughtfulness.

Dad showed his quiet courage continually all through his life, starting as a child in hard depression times with his brothers and sisters - supporting them both emotionally and financially when possible. Through his army years, during the second world war, working behind enemy lines in reconnaissance, just doing a job – realizing that his enemy was just a man like himself – not wanting to be there - but just a victim of fate. He told me many times he couldn't even think of harming any human being or living thing. For example, he gained the greatest joy in releasing the fish he caught. In his marriage to a wife, who was raised as a child under difficult circumstances, and became quite temperamental as an adult; Dad, in-spite of many difficult long years and situations, he stayed with and was committed to her. He never failed in his support of her, and gave her as much love as he could. Inevitably, he raised his children almost alone, showing patience with me, as I was a spirited child, and he always supported my brother in his endeavors. Always loving us both, unconditionally, and without ever judging us. And demonstrating the courage to seek a better life for us all, by bringing his family to America, not knowing anyone, but exploring a great new world with many, as I am sure he knew, and time demonstrated there were opportunities for all of us. And then through his illness, that took him and all of us by surprise. Daily he demonstrated the courage it took for him accepting his disease and the oxygen on a 24 by 7 basis. Eventually, he recognizing he had to slow down, and accept the fact he had to take care of himself. But he never stopped worrying about us, - and in later years his grandchildren - more than himself.

Dad also possessed a caring generosity. In the ealy 70’s the British Commonwealth Club’s Soccer team was going to disband because they did not have a Manager and Coach. The previous manager quit because the team was doing miserably. My brother knew my father had Coached a youth soccer team many, many years ago. He suggested that he volunteer to take on the job. With reluctance the Team offer to let him try. When the team won a championship, they gave him the trophy. My brother asked him what he thought about that, he stated that he "did not care if they won or lost, he just hoped they had a good time." He did it for about 20 years.

One day, in the mid 70’s he was driving down Hudson Avenue near the projects and he saw a team of 10 year olds trying to play soccer. They were being coached, by a coach that did not know the game. He watched for a moment; and then volunteered to help them. He bough them balls paid for jerseys, and assisted the Coach all summer long.

Upon retirement, due to his illness, he volunteered to help at St. John’s Senior Center. He went there two or three times a week. He provided his skills, tools, supplies and humor. Even though he was in his 70’s he felt good helping the "old people". If he could have driven, he would still have been volunteering to help them out..

In between, Soccer and St.Johns he could be found fishing between Hilton and Sodus, but most of the time at Somerville. Fishing, from the banks of the River Seven in England to Summerville, had always been his passion. Within days of arriving in America he was fishing. Within hours of visiting his son in Texas, he wanted to go fishing. Everywhere, he went fishing he had and made friends; who in later year took care of him to see that he had a good time. He will be missed by his fishing friend and I guess the fish.

The later years, at least the last four years of his life, when he moved in with myself, Ken, Chelsea, Max and John, we all think were some of his best and most enjoyable years. He moved in with us, on December 24, 1998. In hindsight, he was kind of a Christmas present. We had him join the Hilton Senior Center that January. Making friends for him was both easy, and hard. He had the personality that everyone liked, and loved. It was hard because he was always conscientious of trying to include my mother; and she did not often make friends very easy. Joining the Senior Center was initially tough. Betty Ryan helped him out. She introduced him around, and made sure everyone got to know him. Thank you Betty Ryan for those early days with your sense of humor and your subtle pushes.

Then there was Peg and Bill, his ride every Thursday home from cards. Dad truly lived to play cards. When he visited my brother, who lives in Texas, he made sure he was home by Monday, so that he could be ready to play cards on Thursday. Heaven forbid that he should miss a tournament. His euchre partner Bob Cameron was wonderful. Dad spoke delightfully about him, how much fun it was, how much he laughed, and most of all, how much everyone cared for each other. And possibly just as important to my dad, how much people didn't care if they won or lost but just having fun was the priority. The Senior Center became a second home to dad. A place where he could hang out with friends and simply just enjoy life.

Dad was my hero and is still is in my heart. Dad was also my Brother’s best friend, and was his best man at his wedding.

When you think of my father, please remember, he would not want any tears of sadness but just thoughts of joy. He always celebrated life and its goodness. There are so many things he has given to both my bother and I over the years; lots of great memories and many moments of shared laughter. He will live on in everyone he touched with moments of his time.

I know he is now breathing better and seeing clearer, managing a winning soccer team, catching and releasing fish all day long, and playing cards all night, wishing us all the best, and letting us know he's alright, and with us for ever.

We thank you Dad and may God bless him and all of us.

Thank you.
 
 

Where he once could not breath he is breathing freely

Where he once could not see he is seeing clearly.