Friday, August 26, 2016
Hello everyone. By their nature, funerals make for a sad day. But does it have to be that way? As I look at this crowd of family and friends gathered here, I notice a growing diversity among us. One common thread among most cultures and religions is a belief in some type of afterlife, meaning that death on earth and a funeral are merely milestones of our existence.
So, can today be a happy day? I think so, and I’m going to tell you a story why. But first, I want to suggest to Adam, Hallie, Stephen, and Zachary… now along with Sam, Sarah, Crystal and Ashley, that when you speak to or spend time with Grandma, be sure to ask her to show you her photo albums and have her tell you her stories about this wonderful, wacky, and interesting family.
So now, here’s my story of what’s going to happen to my father this very afternoon.
In a little while he’s going to find himself in the dining room of an old house on Cannon Street. Sitting at the table are my Uncle Frank, Uncle Joe, Uncle Johnny and Uncle Charlie too. A tattered deck of cards is waiting to be shuffled and his brothers tell dad to ante up his nickel so they can deal him in. In the background, my cousins Butch and Phil are talking to Aunt Louise about a topic that she is clearly an expert in. They do this to remain close to the table, hoping to be invited into the game; I think today is the day.
As I listen to the shuffling of cards, the clinking of coins and the “across the table” banter, I peer thru the haze of smoke from cigarettes and cheap cigars, and I realize this is a group of men that didn’t merely live the American dream; these are the guys that defended it and built it – so thank you dad for that too.
Now, as today’s game winds down, the guys will count up their nickels and dimes, and maybe a couple of quarters, and of course each of them will declare themselves the big winner.
As my father takes that last puff of his Camel no filter cigarette and finishes off his glass of Fleischmans whiskey, he realizes something – his body is strong, his hearing is better, his eyesight is good, and his mind is now providing him the clarity to once again understand and enjoy the things around him. So with this regained vitality he knows exactly what to do next.
He puts on a pair of waders, grabs his fishing pole and heads off to his favorite trout stream in the woods. For years he has been angling for that elusive, big lunker brook trout that always got away. But not today…today that fish ends up on the end of his hook, gets stuffed in his creel and will grace his dinner plate tonight along with a frosty glass of Polish pilsner beer. So, in the end I think dad is having a pretty good day after all. And because of that, so can we.
