Eulogy
Posted by danleone on December 9th, 2008 filed in my fatherHello, as I am sure you all know, I am Donato Leone Jr. I am here to say a few words about my father, Donato Leone Sr. I am not going to talk about how cute my father’s accent was or how disappointed he was with me when he learned I was a lefty. I promise I wont embarrass him by mentioning that he was so resourceful he would cut some scrap pieces of rug into the shape of a foot and stick it in his boot for extra cushioning when his boots would start to break down. I do not have stories about the day he bought me a bike in the second grade, my best Christmas ever in the fourth grade or even the first, and last time, he brought me fishing in the fifth grade. That is not how I remember my dad. Please allow me just five minutes of your time to share just a few words with you.
Today, I smile
Today, I smile because today he is free. He is free from the relentlessly-tightening grip of the shackles that bound him. He is free from the ever-increasing weight of those chains handed to him just 13 short months ago….a million yesterdays ago.
Today, I smile because he no longer struggles for each precious breath. He no longer marches, unwillingly to the merciless drumbeat of ALS.
Today, I smile because I know my father…Dona, Papa, has left us in peace, with his dignity intact and surrounded by those who love him.
Today I smile because we can now go on to the business of remembering the good moments and forgetting about the horrors of the last 13 months.
I want to share with you just one such moment:
I watched him get out of the car as I watched him do it a million times before. The small window on the second floor was one of the few windows overlooking the driveway. I watched the door open on the green Pontiac Tempest slowly open. Even more slowly, my dad would swing his legs out and there he remained. His hands resting on both his knees. Staring ahead of him; staring beyond the house just a few feet away. Staring beyond Brighton. Perhaps he was looking back in time; back to a time that was both easier and more difficult. Here, in America, he had an opportunity, a future, a chance to create the life that he dreamed. He also had his beautiful bride. In Italy, he had everything else. His connections to his past, his family, his support system, his language and his culture.
The view of the top of his head never changed over the years, except for the graying and the receding. His hair was made even grayer by the ever-present cement dust he brought home from the construction sites; the only remnant of his job that he brought home with him. I remember he could be patted like a dirty pillow and dust would envelope him; never diminishing no matter how many times you hit. It was like the dust was coming from inside him.
I would see my dad lift himself with a single groan; using his hands to unbend his knees. The years passed and that pause would get longer and the groan a little louder. You would think the first stop would be the kitchen table for dinner. But not with my dad. He would immediately go into the basement where he had the courtesy to install a shower a few years before. That way, he could wash off the residue of the construction site. When he came up, he almost always wore a clean pair of Dickies and a sleeveless tanktop tshirt. He still had dust on his body, but this time it was the clean smell of baby powder. There is no way to forget that smell because he wore it every day of his life. It was the smell of clean…talc dust replacing cement dust.
That is how I remember my father. He was not a friend; he was a father. He was a father who got up at 4AM everyday; drank instant coffee, went to work building walls, came home exhausted, ignored blackened fingernails wrapped in electrical tape, watched candlepin bowling and fell asleep at the kitchen table. Little did he know that with those same calloused hands that he used to lay bricks, he was also paving the way for his family to live an easier life in America.
When I would check in on my dad over the last 13 months, and ask the stupidest question ever: “How are you today, Papa?”, he would look at me, smile and give me the thumps up. This never changed until a couple of weeks ago, when the disease made it impossible to move his muscles into a smile or even lift his thumb.
So today I smile…because I know you would have. Today, I smile because I have no choice.
Donato Leone Sr…I miss you already.
36 Responses to “Eulogy”
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December 9th, 2008 at 3:50 pm
Beautiful thoughts and beautiful words Dan.
A wonderful way to remember someone so important to you.
Lilacspecs’s last blog post..Not Much Happening Here
December 9th, 2008 at 4:48 pm
I’m sure those words would have made him proud.
Dan’s last blog post..Jordan
December 9th, 2008 at 5:41 pm
That is simply beautiful. What a very touching tribute you paid to your father. I am speechless.
December 9th, 2008 at 5:42 pm
*hugz*
that was, indeed, beautiful, dan.
December 9th, 2008 at 5:43 pm
That is one of the most beautiful and moving tributes I have ever read.
December 9th, 2008 at 5:46 pm
That was beautiful Dan. Many hugs
OHmommy’s last blog post..Never in a million years…
December 9th, 2008 at 5:48 pm
Words that would make your father proud. That was beautiful, Dan.
terri’s last blog post..Ignorance is bliss
December 9th, 2008 at 5:49 pm
Dan, your words are thoughtful, poignant, and elegantly crafted. No doubt your father will feel your love through eternity, as you shall feel his.
winehiker’s last blog post..Let’s go hike to Table Rock!
December 9th, 2008 at 5:49 pm
A beautiful tribute, Dan! I’m sure your father would be proud of the man you grew into. The hardest part of losing someone to a disease like ALS or cancer (my husband) or Alzheimers (my father-in-law) is that their suffering is so painful to watch. Then death becomes a release for them, and we can once again remember them as they were before. Hugs from me!
mehitabel’s last blog post..Nov. 30–End of the Line
December 9th, 2008 at 5:55 pm
Beautiful words Dan. Your dad is lucky to have such a talented son.
December 9th, 2008 at 6:09 pm
It takes something special to be able to face down grief, and turn it into something as touching and beautifully crafted as this.
My condolences.
Xbox4NappyRash’s last blog post..It walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, but…
December 9th, 2008 at 6:12 pm
Dan,
I’m sorry that your dad passed away, you have done him proud with your very fine words.
Pete
December 9th, 2008 at 7:15 pm
Dan, this is an incredibly moving tribute to your father. Thank you so much for sharing, Dan!
Kat’s last blog post..A Holiday Meme.
December 9th, 2008 at 7:34 pm
I don’t even know what to say…so I’m just going to sit here, and cry.
December 9th, 2008 at 7:42 pm
You painted a picture for us to view. Thank you for sharing a part of your father with us.
Love you.
Marissa’s last blog post..Kind of kind in a sorta kinda way
December 9th, 2008 at 8:12 pm
That was beautiful Dan, really just perfect. What a fine example your father was for all of us. And what a wonderful son he has.
Love to you. xo
Piper’s last blog post..Oh Christmas Tree
December 9th, 2008 at 9:22 pm
I smile with the two of you.
I wish I could have been a tenth as eloquent for my dad.
December 10th, 2008 at 1:09 am
I love it. He quickly got rid of everything that had to do with work to cleanse himself for his family. Didn’t want to contaminate what he had at home with the dust and the possibility of negative emotions he brought with him from work.Sounds like he was a real–what’s the word–gentleman? And you did him good.
December 10th, 2008 at 9:54 am
A nice remembrance, Dan. You did fine.
Remember his well …..
Ruprecht’s last blog post..“Mom … The Back Seat’s Prickly …”
December 10th, 2008 at 6:40 pm
Beautiful. I also hope that the memories of the past year or so fade quickly into the background while the other years shine even brighter. Hugs to you and to your family.
Maggie’s Mind’s last blog post..Here
December 10th, 2008 at 11:11 pm
Your story speaks volumes. The fact that he would take time to shower and make himself presentable to his family shows the great dignity your father had. That snippet of his life also speaks to his sense of work, of family, of committment and his bravery.
I am so sorry he suffered and that you watched him.
Thank you for sharing this with us.
The Hurricane’s last blog post..Grandma For Hire
December 10th, 2008 at 11:11 pm
Your story speaks volumes. The fact that he would take time to shower and make himself presentable to his family shows the great dignity your father had. That snippet of his life also speaks to his sense of work, of family, of committment and his bravery.
I am so sorry he suffered and that you watched him.
Thank you for sharing this with us.
The Hurricane’s last blog post..Grandma For Hire
December 11th, 2008 at 2:40 am
Hi Dan
Sorry to hear about your dad. Nice words that you pass along.
Best wishes to you and your family.
December 11th, 2008 at 3:13 am
Hi Dan, I just heard about your dad.
It seems so unfair that death have the power to take away someone you love.
I haven’t tried what you are going thru now, so I can’t say I know how you are feeling, but I can say that I loved the words you wrote.
December 11th, 2008 at 8:40 am
Dan, that was amazing. Our dads are similar, especially the electrical tape they use for bandaids. Be strong. Linda
December 12th, 2008 at 12:47 pm
Beautiful, Dan.
celticbuffy’s last blog post..Creativity? What’s That?
December 12th, 2008 at 9:12 pm
it took me a few days to allow what you said here to really sink in…
i am sorry for your loss of his physical presence in your life,,, but envious of all of the wonderful memories you shared with him… he was not only an amazing man,, he was a wonderful father,,, and that my friend is a blessing you would never really be able to appreciate,, unless you hadn’t had one…
long live the spirit of donato leone, sr… he has made me smile today as well…..
paisley’s last blog post..an ordinary man….
December 13th, 2008 at 9:22 pm
You’ve done good Dan. You and your father have taught me something today.
Chuck’s last blog post..and now there are five
December 16th, 2008 at 10:37 am
What an elegant man in a simple outer wrapper. You were lucky to have each other.
Missives From Suburbia’s last blog post..Maternity Leave
December 16th, 2008 at 9:03 pm
Hi I read your blog and I understand your feeling and emotions deeply. I lost my daughter on Dec 6 2008 to a long battle with a brain tumor. I am sorry at the passing of your father, and wish you and your family peace and good wishes.
Tonnio
December 17th, 2008 at 10:22 am
My sympathies to you. I know how horrible it is to lose a loved one to ALS – lost my Grandma to it in May. I hope the memories of your Dad bring you peace.
Colleen – Mommy Always Wins’s last blog post..I baked!
December 24th, 2008 at 11:38 pm
Dan – don’t underestimate the help you’ve given me as well. I am so sorry to hear about your father. I lost mine a little over 4 years ago and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him and I remain forever grateful that he was my Dad.
I hope this Christmas can be a time to rejoice in those memories for you and I wish you and your family a safe and wonderful life.
Loz’s last blog post..Christmas Day
December 26th, 2008 at 7:52 pm
Dan, that was beautiful. I am so sorry to read about your Dad.
There’s been a lot going on here and I haven’t been following a lot of blogs that I normally get the time to check out… I am so, so sorry about your father. I’m glad you have such loving memories of your Dad, and I hope they are helping through the holidays.
Hugs to you and your family,
Karen
Karen MEG’s last blog post..Happy Holidays
January 1st, 2009 at 5:56 pm
Dan, I’m very sorry to hear about your father. I don’t know if there are words that will comfort you, but obviously your two readers care about you very much.
Lyssa Ireland Thomas’s last blog post..Missing Person… FOUND!
January 6th, 2009 at 12:12 pm
This has to be The Most Beautiful thing I have ever read. Ever. Seriously.
I have real tears streaming down my face. My thoughts and prayers to you and your family. You are an amazing man Dan.
xoxoxox
meleah rebeccah’s last blog post..Man I Am Glad That’s Over.
January 8th, 2009 at 10:27 am
This is my first time here and I am incredibly moved by your words. If I may be so bold, I think I’d add that you smile because you can. What a legacy of strength and beauty he has in your courage and love.
Amanda’s last blog post..Sea Change