Two years ago today, I lost my Godfather to cancer. It was sudden and shocking and sometimes the events of that 10th day of April two years ago seem to come and go in a flash, and yet so vivid. There was my Godfather, a man I was hoping to invite to a wedding, a graduation, to the Baptism of whatever children I have in the future. Gone. Today though my thoughts are on the good times both him and I shared. So I guess here is my eulogy and final goodbye, and hope to one day spend some quality time with him.
Earlier in life my Godfather used to skip school. He'd walk down the street and would wait for my grandmother to leave the house, where he'd spend the day slacking off. He was always good about leaving the house and locking the door before my grandmother would return home and would return "from school" at the usual time. One day my grandmother, while reading the paper, asked him why he didn't go to school that day. My Godfather asked how she knew this to which she replied, "You left the toilet seat up."
As a Marine during the Vietnam War my Godfather sketched scenes from the country. Later he would turn this into a career as and artist!
When I received my Holy Baptism in the Roman Catholic Church on July 27, 1984 my Godfather was there. He came dressed in a black pin striped suit. When people asked him who he was he simply replied, "I'm the Godfather." His sense of humor and wit would very much rub off on me over the years as I grew.
Ten years later at my brother's wedding, my Godfather and I walked around the reception hall sucking in helium, raising our voices several pitches. My mother was not thrilled to say the least, but hey like Godfather like Godson right?
Summers were spent at our family's campsite where every now and then I would spend time fishing with him. My Godfather would show me everything he knew, and even the best places to fish. Of course there would also be pep talks where he would impart to me his wisdom.
In 2009 a friend and I journeyed to Chicago for the day and found ourselves at this really awesome sushi place on Michigan Avenue. As I walk in the door I noticed a familiar looking man seated, enjoying his lunch. It was my Godfather! Oh what a happy reunion after not visiting him for some years! Of course I had to brag to my sister and dad that I ran into him. Think of it... of all the hundreds of thousands of people in Chicago I run into a relative! So cool.
The next year I was on retreat and took up lodging with my Godfather for the duration of the weekend. After the events of the retreat were over he and I would sit and he'd crack open his favorite tequila and I would sip scotch (never much of a tequila lover myself) and just like old times he'd impart his wisdom. I remember fondly the words he spoke to me that weekend. "It takes real courage at the end of the day to look back and say honestly, 'Yeah I did that.' 'Yeah I should've done that better.' 'No I'm not perfect.'" Real words I live by every day.
Goodbye Uncle Mike. While I will miss your words of wisdom, what you have imparted to me I will carry and pass on. I will miss greatly sitting and talking with you about anything and nothing all the while sipping scotch and you sipping tequila. While words cannot describe how much you are missed by all, let me at least say thank you. Thank you for everything. I hope to make you proud one day by following your example of pursuing my dreams and persevering until all is accomplished. Take heart however, I'm okay. I thank God that your battle with cancer is over, and for you there is no more suffering.
