Dear Jack

Two weeks before he died, I wrote my father-in-law a letter . . . he asked me to read it at his funeral.

As sad as Jack’s passing is for our family, we are blessed that he died comfortably, with great courage, knowing he’d be received by God in heaven.  Even though it was just about five weeks from his cancer diagnosis to his death, our family of six had ample opportunity to tell him how much we loved him.  Two weeks before Jack passed away, I wrote a letter to him trying to tell him how much he meant to me.  Just about a week before he died, he took both of my hands in his, told me my letter meant a lot to him and then asked me to read it during this service.  I am incredibly honored to be able to share my memories of Jack with all of you.

This letter was written on December 7^th, 2010.

Dearest Jack --

It’s only 4:30AM but I found myself awake with my mind racing with all the wonderful memories I have of you (ones that began over a quarter century ago) and I just started to sob in bed, thinking about the possibility of losing you and what life will be like for our entire family without you in the center of it.  So, I felt compelled to write you a letter in the wee hours of the morning, because I just can’t let you leave for heaven to be with God (even if that time comes years and years from now), without me at least trying to share how dear you are to me, to our family and to our four children.

My first memory of you is the first time I visited your home in East Hampton, CT in the summer of 1985.  John and I were just good friends then (though I wished we were “more than friends” and I’m not sure if you knew that until now!) and when we woke up in the morning, you fixed us -- just the two of us -- a big breakfast out on your back deck -- serving us pancakes, sausage, eggs and juice.  It was delicious and abundant (as all your meals tended to be), but even better than the meal itself was how you made me feel that first morning in your home.  You were warm, engaged, hospitable and so kind and accepting of me -- a mere stranger your son had invited to visit.  That was my first impression and it stuck with me.

Fast forward to when Caitlin was born on a snowy February day in 1993.  I saw up close what a proud grandfather looked like -- one who held his first grandchild with adoration, love, gentleness and delight -- you proudly called her “my Caitlin” and couldn’t take your eyes off her.  The thing is, you looked at each of the consecutive five grandchildren, Annalise, Christopher, James, William and Abigail, with the same tenderness and adoration!  When Caitlin could speak and named you “Papa” she captured who you’ve been to us these years -- a big “Papa Bear” who gives such good embracing hugs that it feels like you’re sending us off with a big warm blanket of love until the next time we see you.

I have great memories of you singing to all the children -- “Oh Dear, What can the Matter Be,” “Christopher Columbus,” college songs from your alma mater and ours (you somehow got the University of Pennsylvania’s fight song into your repertoire) and of course, your annual “Happy Birthday to You” that you belted out with Jayne the morning of each of our birthdays, no matter how far away we were.  We could always count on that phone call that we knew would not start with a typical hello, but rather in song.  Your voice wasn’t just terrific for singing spontaneous songs for us though.  People may not know what a great voice you have.  I remember noticing that when I first heard you sing behind me in a church service and then when we had the few special occasions to hear you and Jayne sing together!

The children have adored you from the first day you held them.  You’re fun, you’re a good listener and you’ve always tried to meet them where they were -- backing off if they felt shy, joining in if they were boisterous and realizing that they all were special gifts to our lives.  You always magnified their gifts and played down their faults.  I know I have always felt that from you myself and I know the children have felt the same because you have always exuded this kind of grace for us.

Other memories are centered on your never-ending support of our family through the years, so that we could get through our own rough times.  When we moved twice in ten months back in 1998-1999 (having Christopher in the middle of that time) -- you and Jayne were right there helping with everything from transportation, meals, groceries and childcare.  You even took me to the airport and had to convince the tow truck driver to unhook your car from his truck when you came back to it, all because you wanted to see Christopher and me safely inside the terminal. 

And our great connection to Red Sox baseball will be a memory for a lifetime.  I will always cherish those excited late night calls we made to each other when we would be whooping up a “come from behind” win in our own homes, knowing we were each watching the same exciting game, one hundred miles away from each other.  I will never forget the 2004 World Series Championship season and how great it was to be a fan alongside you, talking about plays and players and the quirkiness of the “motley” team, laughing about old times at ball games, “cowboying it up” in our own way and witnessing perhaps the most miraculous season ever, unfold before our very eyes.  I continue to feel blessed we could share that perfect Red Sox season together.

The memories are so many, it’s actually impossible to list.  And there are so many because you made the great effort to be present in our lives for all the events of our family -- both big and small -- for the births of our children, ballet performances (how many Nutcracker performances can a Grandpa sit through?), dance recitals, soccer games, basketball games, baseball games, cross country meets, piano recitals, family vacations here and abroad, miscellaneous school events, Grandparent’s day, ear tube surgeries, x-rays, moves, allowing John and I to take vacations while you and Jayne took care of things at home, trips to get my car fixed, grocery shopping, picking up take-out Chinese, preparing meals for holidays, family nights, driving, driving and driving.  You did it all and I’m so thankful for you.

However, the most important thing I want to share with you Jack, is I feel incredibly fortunate to know you and to have been “adopted” into your family.  I am one of your biggest fans.  You from the first day I met you, back in the summer of 1985, accepted me as the friend of your oldest son and then later accepted and loved me as your daughter-in-law and I have always felt your appreciation for who I am.  This kind of acceptance has trickled down to each of our children.  I am blessed because I know that’s not often the way of the world.  So thank you Jack, for being who you are and for your life and for your relentless support and love for me and our family.  I will be eternally grateful for it the rest of my years.  I hope in all the hugs the members of our family give to those around us, we’ll share your “Papa Bear” qualities and make those hugs feel like the warm blanket of love they have always been to us.

May God bless you, keep you and protect you.

I love you so much,

Jean