Saturday, October 4, 2008
Leo Durocher once said, “nice guys finish last.” And while 80 years isn’t the latest anyone has departed from life, it’s certainly closer to the long end than the short.
In the four score he was allotted on this earth, my father was the epitome of a nice guy, but not “nice” in a trite, saccharine way. If I had to sum up his character, it would be that he was the opposite of self-centered — I would call it “other oriented.” He was the type of person who cared far more about others than himself, and gave of himself, in time, deeds, and emotions, as long as I knew him. He was someone who could never say no to a request, a trait I seem to have inherited, fortunately or not.
In short, this was a man who truly embodied and lived the Golden Rule, “Do Unto Others.” He followed that dictum every day, and everything else simply followed from that. It sounds simplistic, but the truth often is, and I think it enabled him to live such a fulfilling life. It wasn’t a conscious decision or commitment, but was just part of his nature, and everything else flowed seamlessly from that. Anyone who met him recognized it, making it impossible not to instantly become a member of his circle of friends, a list I’m certain must be virtually limitless.
I think those friends extended to the ultimate heights. The rest of his family, lifelong Catholics, could count the odd meeting with a bishop or monsignor as the high point of their clerical interaction. When my dad converted a dozen years ago, he was fast-tracked to an audience with the Pope. On the wall at home is a picture of him with John Paul II, shaking hands and smiling as if they were best buddies, which they might well have been. And I’m sure that last Wednesday, St. Peter waved him right to the front of heavenly waiting line and through the gates as well.
My dad was a lifelong Yankee fan, and no doubt having his two sons grow up and become members of Red Sox Nation must have been one of his great disappointments in life. He lived long enough to see the final game at the Stadium and their last game of the season, and I’m sure the fact they missed the playoffs for the first time in ages probably didn’t help his condition. But as I told my own sons, while my dad’s physical presence will be gone, just like Yankee Stadium, our memories of him will remain as long as we treasure them and keep them alive within us.
This was a man with a boundless good heart, from which he gave and gave to everyone, from the closest family member to his most recent acquaintance. In the end, that heart, at least the physical one, couldn’t give any more, and simply wore out and stopped. But while his life on earth is over, I can take solace in the fact that here, definitely, was a nice guy who finished first.
