Eulogy

My husband was a content man, happy in his career, working on his house and spending time with his kids. He was not materialistic and did not long for anything more than simple pleasures like his favorite tv shows, a good dog for company and weekly pizza dinners. He loved a bargain and while averse to spending money, was always thoughtful with his gifts to others. 

Brian’s long illness with its many doctor appointments, medications, lab visits, tests and hospital stays was an endurance run for him as the patient, for me as his caregiver and for Aislinn and Owen who held their breath with each phone call from home and dropped everything to help whenever their father’s health was precarious. 

For nine years our lives orbited his and for me, it was sometimes difficult to accept that mine was on hold or to forgive him for systematically destroying his health and missing out on so much, especially time with his family, and in particular, Patrick, his first grandchild.

It’s funny though, how the saddest of times can have so many moments of sweetness. When it became clear that this illness was different, our kids arrived and every day, brought their dad his favorite treat, ice cream from the Cone Zone. Owen shaved his father’s overgrown beard and massaged his feet and Aislinn wiped his brow, fed him and gave him sips of water, especially when he had stopped asking. 

To keep our energy and our spirits up, we went to the Bridgeport Flyer Diner for breakfast and remembered how Brian taught CCD on Saturday mornings and brought Aislinn and her friends there for breakfast afterwards, only allowing them to order from the fixed price menu. 

In the last days, we gathered his siblings and talked to him of happy times and even though semi-conscious, he rewarded us with head nods and raised eyebrows. And then, when we knew the time was short, Aislinn, Owen and I held each others’ hands and his and prayed and told him that we loved him.

I am so grateful that God’s Grace gave us that time together. It allowed us to relive forgotten moments, to laugh at our missteps, to remember our achievements and to let our disappointments and negative emotions fall away. 

I am grateful for our family and friends, near and far, who have held us up in so many ways. The cards, flowers and remembrances have been so welcome and the offers of help now and during these years, so touching.

While at Chaminade I went on a European trip with Brian.  Later I ran into him at Hofstra a few times and we reminisced about it and laughed a lot.  I still thought of him as in his twenties because  I have not seen him in 40+ yrs. I'm sorry we won't have his impish face to beam at us and cheer us on.

You tell a beautiful story. Although Chaminade was a small school we all had our own worlds. But when crossing into others' worlds a nod would often do. Brian was a nodding acquaintance. He always had a wonderful and maybe mischievous (?) smile to return with our nods. Loved the pictures and I recognized him immediately. I'm so sad to hear of his passing but cheered by the life he lived and the family whose lives you all shared. I especially loved the carpentry tales. Take strength in your memories.  Peace.

I am so sorry for your loss. One of my earliest memories at Chaminade was Brian teasing me (in a good-natured manner) for carrying my books in a TWA Airlines bag. I think about him every time I see one of those flight bags.

-Patrick White

Chaminade Class of 1971

So sorry for your loss. I remember him as “ just a good guy “ RIP

  Chris Higgins, ‘71

Puppy Love

What a lovely photo. Rest in peace.