Wednesday, October 07, 2009

The Bear

My grandfather was a good man. He was brilliant and funny and always had a great story to tell. He was the man who had great parties. He was the one you wanted sitting next to you on the long car ride.
He was the first generation in this country and like many Irish immigrants did they settled in New Jersey were there was others from the mother country.

He was an athlete and a big man/ His nickname in the neighborhood he lived in for 45 years was The Bear.
He was a hard worker, he didn't have the easiest life but who among us does? When he left this place he left me mad at myself, I still had more to ask him, I had more to learn from him and now the questions will have to go unanswered.

When I walked into the funeral home the first thing I noticed was the big picture of my grandfather and my father with their arms around each other smiling as big as they could.
My father took after his father's footsteps and was the life of the party, the storyteller, the one that carried on the family business.
The peace I have is knowing that father and son are reunited somewhere again.

I know they are somewhere having a million laughs, some good stories and a whole lotta vodka.


  1. It is that type of thought that can make this time of loss a bit less sad, and we all need that when it happens.

  2. That's how I think of my father. Up there, making people laugh with his dry sense of humor, smoking his pipe.

    May your Grandfather rest in peace.


  3. Your post gave me goosebumps. I'm sorry for your loss. Sounds like a life beautifully lived. What an inspiration.

  4. That was a really nice post.


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