Way to Go, Pop

So, good old 2013 just had to squeeze another one in before the 31st. Yesterday we said our goodbyes to my father in law 'Pop' who passed away after a massive stroke.

It's been said that people come into your life for a reason, and I believe it. Pop was a spry, energetic leader of the pack when I met him at the tender age of 78. By then he'd worked a lot of jobs to make ends meet, had 7 children, and spent the better part of his life as an Ironworker in San Francisco. He had an unimagined challenge with raising six wise-cracking,  rambunctious boys.  Pop was able to maintain control without squelching their sense of self, which is evident in the boys bearing a resemblance to each other but completely unique otherwise. 

Pop was a great guy. He loved woodworking and made beautiful hand carved toy boxes, mantels and other useful things like trivets and shadow boxes. There are stories about his generosity and helpfulness with everyone in the Parish, and about him being the first one out the door if someone needed a hand.

Pop didn't go far in school and yet he provided a good home for his family with an open door to friends especially around dinnertime. The neighborhood parties at their house were legendary. St. Gabe's people all knew them, and all the big families socialized, with the kids downstairs and the adults up.  One of the Aunts once said you knew better than to put anything on the table with the boys around, because it'd be gone before you set out the meal.

Two of my sis-ins lost their dads early and Pop filled that gap for them for upwards of 40 years. The time I had with him was short but we developed a deep bond by both starting life again with new partners. Pop was the greatest.

What I will most remember about him were his eyes. I would watch them dance when he teased and laughed, or scan the room contentedly when it was full of his boys and their families. Maybe it was a long-ago promise to keep everyone near, but I tend to think he was happiest when the house was exploding with kids all talking at once, food on every counter, and joking together, just like in the old days.

So I found it fitting for the family to cram into the hospital room and spill out into the hall, with food to eat and Frank Sinatra tunes up near Pop's ear. Everyone kidded around and reminisced. And when Pop decided it was time, he opened those beautiful eyes one last time and smiled a big smile, before heading on his way.