Wednesday, March 23, 2016
The following is the eulogy read at my father's funeral on March 3, 2016 at St. James Church in Stratford, CT
Good morning, My name is Kristen Sura and I am Patsy’s granddaughter. Today I will be reading two separate pieces. The first is written by my father, Michael, about his father, Patsy.
My dad was a very caring person, although he was not one to vocalize his love until his later years. He would show his love by his actions and not make a big deal about it. He was always there to offer his help where he could with things like changing my bike tire, assembling toys, filling my car up with gas during the energy crisis, and mowing the grass at my first home with my new key start mower. Dad got a bigger kick out of doing the grass, although in this case I was anxious to use the mower myself, so I waited until he lost interest in it and eventually was able to use it.
My dad also helped us in taking care of Jackie’s mom when her cancer had spread. He did it as often as we asked and without a complaint.
I have fond memories of my Dad enjoying his television shows. He loved the Honeymooners, Andy Griffith, Sanford & Son, and All in the Family. When I was in college and working part-time I recall coming home from work and walking in the house at the conclusion of All in the Family, watching my dad laughing hysterically, and I wondered what sort of show he was watching since at the time I had never heard of it. He loved his t.v. shows and his stereo, specifically his Jerry Vale records.
I recall riding the bus with my Dad during the summer and getting to sit in the driver’s seat while the bus was waiting at the time clock at the end of the run. I would get to sit in the driver’s seat, open and close the bus doors, beep the horn, and best of all, crank the money out of the coin box. Although on one day the fun ended when I took the money from the coin box tray and threw it back in to crank again. That was when my Dad went a little crazy and it was time to step out of the driver’s seat. My dad had to put his own money in, to make up for the money that I had thrown into the coin box the second time. One of the best things when riding the bus was getting an ice cream cone with him at the end of the run.
During my dad’s illness over the past four months he would ask me to write down various answers to questions he would be asked at the rehab center. On various occasions he would get his dates confused and sometimes just basic information about himself. He would obsess over this since he felt any wrong answers would lengthen his stay at rehab and he really wanted to go home. I would try to comply but most of the time wasn’t sure what questions he was being asked other than the month and the year. So I would guess at what he might be asked and record the answers. This would happen quite frequently since he would often lose his notes. After a while I would get annoyed and try to convince him he did not have to study for any finals, that it did not matter and it would not hinder him going home. It didn’t matter whether I could find a pen or paper, when he wanted his notes, he wanted his notes!
Later he asked mom for a small coin pouch where he would store his notes so he wouldn’t lose them. Sometimes he would misplace this pouch but luckily we would locate it to his relief, with papers intact. I placed this pouch in my dad’s pocket for his funeral with his remaining crumpled up notes, along with a new note with answers to questions he might be asked by St. Peter at the gates of heaven. I know he will gain entry, even without his notes.
Last but not least, the best conversation I had with my dad in a very long time was on Friday, February 19th, days after his last hospitalization. He was very lucid, and his speech was clear and we spoke about events of long ago. He remembered them and laughed at the memories we found to be funny. Laughter that I hadn’t heard in a long time. We spoke about going home the next day and that all would be okay. The next day his condition changed for the worse, and he didn’t come home. Seven days later he did, but not to Stratford, he went to his everlasting home with God.
I love my Dad and know that he is out of pain and at peace. He deserves that.
This last piece my sister wrote with input from our cousins and my aunt and father to reminisce about Grandpa. And so I am reading this on behalf of all of Patsy’s children and grandchildren.
Patsy was a loving grandfather and always "down for a good time". We’d like to share some of our memories of him with all of you.
Grandpa had an amazing sense of humor. He was always the instigator for practical jokes; from telling Patty and Jimmy to push grandma into the cubby or shoot her with a toy gun, to making fun of all the old ladies on the bus when they would ride with him on their summer break. In fact, he came up with the beep and wave game. Grandpa would drive around with Patty and Jimmy and beep at strangers and wave to them. When they asked how he knew them, Grandpa would reply that he didn’t, but they would be up all night trying to figure out who he was. Grandpa was always making us laugh.
Grandpa also had a soft spot when it came to babies and children. He doted upon each of us as kids and then when we each had our own children, he loved them just as much. He played the Christmas stocking game with Laura and myself tirelessly. We would hang two of his socks by the bed and pretend to fall asleep. Grandpa would then walk in and fill the socks with oranges and candies for us like he was Santa. He probably hated the game after the second request but would play as long as we asked.
We all remember him as a man that didn’t say much besides, “you’re all crazy!” at family get-togethers; in which, he was right. He was a man who wore a shirt and tie as his daily casual wear. He loved scary movies and watching them with us all, which I’m sure our parents weren’t too happy about when we all had nightmares. He was always doodling on napkins and everyone knew not to sit in Grandpa’s chair at the kitchen table. He loved Christmas with a passion. He would take us all to Uncle Nick’s house where we were plopped in front of the TV with a spread of junk food and candy; which we all came to realize was just so we’d sit still while they had a grand ole time together.
I can only imagine the trouble they’re getting into right now with the rest of their siblings, finally together again. Most of all, we remember how much he loved our parents and Grandma. You could see it in his eyes when he looked at them and spoke of them.
Aunt Carol used to love the stories that he would tell her when she was little. She told us that her dad would read Goldilocks and the Three Bears and exaggerate to make it more exciting. He was also very protective of her, letting Uncle Jim know when they were first dating, “If you’re not going to marry her, put it in first, and keep on going!” He was always helping Dad with his cub scout projects, constructing different things like shields and spears and birdhouses.
Once Dad and Grandpa took a ride to the cottage our grandparents had bought. They were in the middle of remodeling it and had decided to knock down a wall. They took one crack at it and tons of bugs came pouring out, leaving the two of them running and screaming.
Our memories of Grandpa will stay with us forever. We were once told, “If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all the generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment, each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people.” Grandpa is still with us all, he is in each and every one of us.
