My dad's "Heaven Day" anniversary is Aug 14th. He was not perfect. He was flawed. He made mistakes. But in the end, he lived a good life. I wrote him a letter six months before he died on Valentines Day. For his memorial service I read a short introduction and the letter to our family and friends. He would be 85 this year.
Here it is....
~Kathy~
Several years ago my dad turned seventy. We wanted to make that night a special one to honor him and we wanted to create a memory. Not only, I remember my sister Paula saying, for my dad and mom, or “us” (his kids), but for our children, HIS grandchildren. We set about preparing the evening in “Chuck Fehely”-style, which included the foot-long hot dogs and angel food cake. The stage had the perfect homey feel to it: a clothesline running the length of the exterior of our house, multiple strands of white lights and a backdrop of colorful quilts. We had our very first annual “Fehely Talent Show.” I use the word, “Talent” quite liberally for the majority of us: yes, we sang, we kazooed, we drummed and strummed, danced, recited and even performed fake raspberries to one of grandpa’s favorite tunes. It was, by all of our “Reflective Fehely” standards, a perfect night. To conclude the evening we gave dad letters where we wrote to him, telling how much we loved him, how proud we were to be his kids citing special gestures, expressions or stories about him that we enjoyed.
~I’m going to stop this description for a moment to say that birthday evening was not unlike what we’ve tried to create here today, a lovely memory for all of us, bragging about this amazing man, and I know he would have LOVED this…. because he loved all of YOU so much~
Well for some reason, I never gave my dad a letter that night. I had been a little busy, but the truth was, I just needed more time to marinate on how to put into words all of the feelings and expressions of love that I wanted to paint for my dad. This February, I finally gave him that letter and it is what I am going to read to you today. When I gave it to him, I gave it quietly with just he and my mom there. I then let him read it privately. I knew it meant something because my mom said he had tears streaming down his face (but a little known secret to outsiders is that my dad is a sentimental crybaby). When I REALLY knew it meant something, was when we shared his scrapbook with me and I found the letter in it.
Legacy of Love~
Today I am writing a letter to you, my dad, otherwise known as Charles Frank Fehely. “Charlie” or “Chuck” to some, but dad or grandpa to the rest of us…
There is a moment when those of us who are teachers, well, where we would use the term “teachable moment” -the kind of moment when it feels almost supernatural or “spiritual” in the classroom. It could be some kind of conflict on the playground, national or world events, it could simply be a story you’ve just read to your students or the way a class conversation has headed in a new direction…as a teacher you know this is “it,” a teachable moment. Dad, as I think of your life, and your current battle with cancer, and how as your daughter I have witnessed who you are, I realize I am here…I am currently living the reality of a “teachable moment.” I can use this moment to write about you, let you know how much I love you and let you know how you are a teacher to everyone who surrounds you.
Dad you are leaving all of us a “Legacy of Love” that spans across all ages, races and religions. The “Legacy” you have left me is an example of how I want to live my own life. It begins with mom:
You and mom have a love that is tangible, real. If you look at the DVD we made, I want you to notice and pay close attention to you and mom: the looks you give one another, the chemistry you have and the love you so obviously feel for one another. For all of your children, grandchildren, friends & family you’ve left a “Legacy of Love” for one’s spouse. Growing up we all felt it, we were lucky to have been raised by parents that loved one another…who weathered some storms but who mainly lived with sunnier times. Even now, your love for one another can only be summed up as miraculous and a testimony to each of us, your children. You are both my heroes by the love you have for one another.
Dad you’ve also left a “Legacy of Love” for each of us: Mike, Paula, Laura, and myself. Growing up we all felt your love and pride. You were at all of our events, and as we became adults that circle grew: football, synchronized swimming, baseball, plays, musicals, church events, school and more. As we married, and yes, even divorced & dated, your legacy spread to a preschool teacher, a plumber, a man in retail, a firefighter and currently, a man in investment. Your love expanded to each of us as we “grew up” over the years. And to know you, is to know your pride for all of us, even today.
The “Legacy of Love,” of course, includes your nine grandchildren: Ryan, Jill, Morgan, Evan, Brad, Tommy, Troy, Shelby and Mary. Your love includes all of their collective interests, hobbies, sports, and more: football, swimming, soccer, lacrosse, 4-H, music, dancing, vintner studies, construction management, plumbing, the discussion of sports pages, religious beliefs and more. We recently celebrated your birthday. While doing so, we all created the gift for you that listed all of the reasons we loved you so much. In it, each of your nine grandchildren expressed how they felt special, unique and loved just for being themselves. On a side note: your legacy rubbed off on your wife because when we made her a similar gift your grandchildren felt the same way about their grandma. They all felt, and feel, loved by both you and mom.
Your “Legacy of Love” also includes a circle of people that aren’t quite blood-related but that the term “friends” doesn’t quite cover, it is simply too broad. Specifically your “Legacy of Love” included young lives. Judy Rodriquez, whom you walked down the aisle for her wedding, would fit this circle. John Berry, who moved into our house when he was a senior at CV High and we, the “Fehely” kids were still quite little. This circle included all of your players that you took to college games to expand their dreams. It included the united work of mom baking her Jet Pride cookies for the players of the week. The meager earnings you made while coaching or teaching were spent building dreams for these kids, blending your belief in the saving grace of sports and most importantly, your faith in young people.
You had two careers in my lifetime and your love included all your co-workers from both. You remained friends with the men and women you worked with as a probation officer, and the friends you later made while coaching and teaching, being an athletic director. Your friendships were an example of love: you still remain friends with boys from grammar school, junior and senior high school, your days in the Army, semi-pro football, and, as mentioned, through the Alameda County Probation Department and the halls of Encinal, Menlo Atherton and Castro Valley High. It includes friends with conservative beliefs in Contra Costa County and liberal ones from Alameda. It includes men, and women, of every race and every economic class: both rich and poor. An early memory I have of you is calling friends up to arrange time together: Saturday football, drafts, tennis matches, basketball games, lunch, dinner, golf, vacations and more. When I was in high school or college trying to decide what to do on a rare free Saturday night, I would think of your ability to create times together with all of your many friendships. I would then pick up the phone myself to plan some grand adventure of my own, mimicking your actions. Your “Legacy of Love” includes your friends and how you see them as an extension of our family.
As stated earlier, your “Legacy of Love” includes your spouse, my mom, your children and grandchildren, friends & co-workers. However, your “Legacy” also involves your Faith. You were quiet about it, but it is real. If I remember correctly, you grew up with a father who was an atheist and a mother who you used to say was a “good Christian woman” and whom you sweetly regarded as a saint. It wasn’t until you attended St. Mary’s College that I think you really found God. You became a Catholic…but really, for you, it was about getting a relationship with God at that point, a conscious decision. There were times in your life when you have been upset with decisions the Church has made and you would not attend for a while. In more recent times you’ve begun attending services again. The thing is, each of us, your children, have been allowed and encouraged to develop our own faith in God. Anyone who has been in attendance at our family events: birthdays, holidays and gatherings, they would know we have a tradition where we stand in a giant circle holding hands. You lead us in a prayer…I use that term loosely because really, your eyes are open and sometimes it’s more like you are preaching to us or sharing some of life’s lessons. Sometimes there are tears, usually there is laughter, but always there is love. You shared a story with us at Christmas that involved your Faith. You talked about your love for all of us: mom, each of your children, grandkids and then you talked about how you get through your radiation treatments. You shared how when you are lying there; wearing your mask like a Phantom of the Opera character partaking in an act you really didn’t like and how the claustrophobic feelings could potentially take over. You talked about how you would then think about (or imagine) each of us: wife, children & spouses, and grandchildren surrounding you in prayer. Your faith is what seems to get you through the awful parts of your cancer treatments.
You are my dad, the teacher, and you have left me a “Legacy of Love” in nearly all areas of life: your love for my mom, kids, grandkids, friends, family, work and faith. Your latest teaching lesson, the “teachable moment” I am writing about today is this: that although you won’t always be physically present, your love, your “Legacy of Love,” will always be right here, in my heart. My memories of growing up with you and your “Legacy” will serve as an example to me for years to come. Your “Legacy of Love,” really is just that, a legacy for all of us in the “Fehely Family” to be inspired and to try and our lives in the same fashion.
Love to you, Kathy
