To My Father Armando Pede – Died March 27, 2015

To My Father Armando Pede – Died March 27, 2015

Complicating life was not one of my father’s strongest attributes. He found good in anyone he met, and when he could not, he refrained from offering any opinion. Sometimes he would get irritated when my mother babbled on and on, with no foreseeable sign of relief. He overcame this one difficulty with an aged induced miracle – he had lost some of his hearing. I guess God had intervened.

In the first week of November 2014 my dad fractured his hip. It was that accident that brings us together here today. The week prior, in a time of remembrance, my dad drove to Mount Pleasant cemetery to visit his parents. Little did he know, that soon thereafter, his parents and all his deceased loved ones would soon be awaiting him with open arms.  My dad’s major priority was always his family. Nothing else really seemed to matter. He continued to find joy in his grandchildren, great grandchildren and the family dogs – sometimes the dogs more than anyone else. 

My dad “bailed out” in what was to be a very consequential year for the Pede family. We would have celebrated his 60^th wedding anniversary on May 7, our 35^th wedding anniversary on July 5, my son’s wedding on July 25 and another great grandchild is now preparing for an August arrival. As hard as he tried to be with us, I believe God wanted him more. While in the hospital he promised me he would fight the disease and come home. This was one of the very few promises he never kept.
 

His great joy was gardening with my mother. Both awoke in the early morn and retired from a long day of pruning, planting, weeding and resting. This will be the first spring my dad will rest with nature rather than assisting it.

My dad was not afraid of dying and his one request of me was that I informed him of when the end was near.  I told him three days before he finally passed that his health was waning and death was now a real possibility. While he could not speak, his glossy eyes acknowledged the message. He accepted life with all its conditions. He sought only to be happy and to be around the ones he loved.

His life was more than experience, it was a lesson for all of us. Simply, find comfort in those you love, rather than loving the comforts of life. I still can’t accept the fact that I no longer have a father whom I may touch and talk to, but I do know he is here amongst us, doing what he did best, sitting silently on a chair, petting one of the dogs, and feeling at peace.

We will always love you Dad,
Joseph, Mary, Armand, Natasha Suzanne, Endi, Nicholas, Ali, Echo, Nico and your loving wife Maria Lucia