Judith and Joseph Fitzpatrick

Our father was a workingman who took his responsibility for providing for our mother and us very seriously. Dad would leave early and come home late, because he always believed that providing a good home and education for his children was his sole responsibility. We always used to say that dad seemed to know more about the cans of coke on his truck than the daily activities of his children.

For those of you that only knew our dad as a quiet man, we want you to know that there was so much more to him than his simple hello. Whether it was to “skinny up” for soft pretzels while watching “Little House on the Prairie”, his famous nightly Indian tucks, tying our socks together, chasing us around the living room just when mom was calling us for bed, sneaking the roast back in the freezer so Charlie’s pizza would be the only option for Sunday dinner or the beautiful weddings that he was so proud to give us. In hind site we realize that these were some of dad’s own special ways of expressing his love. There may have been times when we thought our father’s judgement was clouded, but in fact he made the wisest decision of all in picking out mom as his life partner.

Although our family was not perfect and has had more than our share of troubled times, it is ironic to realize that those times and imperfections only helped create the strong bond that holds us together. Our father’s heart attack in September allowed us six months of time to reconnect and understand him better. We saw a man accept his fate with much dignity. But with that dignity came the uncertainties about life after death.

If you do not believe in angel’s maybe you should. A few days before my father passed away he talked about a childhood friend who meant so much to him, but had not seen for many years. Not knowing of the situation, his friend showed up at his doorstep the next day and could not explain why he had stopped only that he had an unexplained urge to come and see his old friend Joey. As you might imagine the timing of this angel meant a lot to my father and us.

It was the family joke that our dad was known as the great predicator. When we were little and they would forecast a snowstorm we would go to my dad and ask him if we would have school the next day. He would answer us in one of two ways: the first was with a good night kiss, and say go to bed. “You need a good night sleep for school tomorrow” or the other was letting us stay up a half hour later knowing that the snow was on it’s way and that we would be off the next day. He was always right. When you are ten years old that is all it takes to think your dad is the smartest man in the world. My dad made his last prediction a week before he died. With his great wisdom and a calm manner, he sat with my sisters and I and said, I think I will die Sunday, the feast day of my patron saint, St. Joseph. St. Joseph was the one we prayed to through the years in our darkest hours for strength. My dad’s Sister, Millie, would often send a card to my dad on this day to remind him of his faith in God and not to give up hope. My dad took his last breath at 3:00 am Sunday, the feast day of St. Joseph once again proving that he was the wisest man in the world to us.

There is much sadness knowing his grandchildren will not know the kindness and love of their Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop, but through our faith in God there is joy in knowing our Mom and Dad are together again, this time forever in Heaven. We will be looking for that rainbow, July 13th.

Good night and God Bless. Sweet Dreams We Love You dad!