We’ll miss your smile;
the smile that lit up a room even in your last days.
We’ll miss your jokes;
even though they often weren’t funny.
We’ll miss your cheese omelets;
and how you made breakfast a special occasion.
We’ll miss you on the slopes,
skiing in your bathing suit,
never missing the opportunity for a good laugh.
We’ll miss you at the beach,
digging epic holes ensuring ours was always the biggest.
We’ll remember your generosity;
you took the blessings you were given and shared them with others.
We’ll remember how hard you worked;
you sacrificed everything to build us a beautiful home and give us the best lives possible.
We’ll remember your undying love for family.
Family always came first, above everything.
We’ll make you proud…
We’ll always give back and share our blessings with others.
We’ll take the lessons you taught us and do our best to make a positive impact.
We’ll face life with the same smiling face you did.
Inspiring others with humble positivity.
We won’t take ourselves too seriously and we’ll make a few bad jokes in your honor.
We’ll live each day with you in our hearts.
We’ll make you proud, Dad.
The weekend of September 22, 1979,
seems so long ago.
It seems like yesterday.
My heart skipped a beat when we met at 1618 Beacon Street.
Throwing the football along the Charles.
Dinner at Legal Seafood.
Such great memories.
He was not like anyone I had ever met.
He was working nights and weekends,
in addition to his real job.
He did this to help his brother build a home.
We were young.
We were single.
And yet this man was sacrificing that single life.
He did it for his family.
I was in awe.
Fast forward, and two years later we were married.
Kathleen's mom once said to a bunch of us,
"You will meet a lot of men in your life.
Be sure to choose the one you know you want to grow old with."
I did that.
He was my best friend.
I learned from him.
and I think he learned from me.
We depended on each other.
We carried each other.
We were a team.
We were better as two than we were as one.
Oh, please don't misunderstand.
He drove me crazy.
He organized everything.
I believe the refrigerator was alphabetized.
But equally, I drove him crazy.
I am pretty sure that's what marriage really is.
Then, Alexandra and Graham were born,
and there was new purpose.
This was our family.
His organized, workaholic nature was for a reason.
He lived for us.
He would melt as he came into the driveway
and the kids would run into his arms.
He made a wagon ride, on the back of his lawnmower
the most exciting thing in the world.
Rides in the bucket truck topped everything.
He helped coach soccer,
even though he didn't know a thing about it.
He built sets for ballet.
He dug the biggest holes on Baker's beach
and built the most amazing castles…
He was there.
Before he was diagnosed with Frontotemporal Degeneration,
Kenny planned a surprise 50th birthday party for me.
I hate surprise parties….
He did it over the course of a year.
It was amazing.
The people he invited,
including the details he knew would be important to me,
omitting the things he knew I wouldn't care about.
These were done to perfection.
It was a beautiful evening.
His final birthday gift to me was on my 56th birthday.
My best friend,
my team mate,
my husband gave me
the gift of knowing that he no longer suffered.
He is finally at peace.
I no longer have to worry.
This is truly a gift of love.
