Mike and Kennan De Gruccio
David and Kathy Fear
Paul and Jenny Chidester
Monty and Annie Skinner
Mom and Kathy
Annie and Mom
Our Family
Mike's Graduation May 2008
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Family Dinner 3/19/2009, These are not listed in order of Favorite Child...
Rick and Jeannie De Gruccio
Mike and Kennan De Gruccio
David and Kathy Fear
Paul and Jenny Chidester
Monty and Annie Skinner
Mom and Kathy
Annie and Mom
Mike and Kennan De Gruccio
David and Kathy Fear
Paul and Jenny Chidester
Monty and Annie Skinner
Mom and Kathy
Annie and Mom
The Rossi's Restaurant 3/19/2009
"Our Last Supper" together! And there have been many....and will be many more I'm sure! The night before life goes on.....
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Time to get back to normal....
I always took care of Dad on Tuesdays. For some reason I only put on my March calendar "Dad" through last Tuesday, somehow I think I knew. At least I know I was being prepared for his return home. With Cira Fear, our niece, leaving for her mission today, there has been even more family celebrations. We are all enjoying being with one another even though we feel this sense that something is missing. When I get alone and it's quiet I feel this sense of sadness overcome me. I know he his happy, I know he is free from his sickly body but I miss him. And I know I always will. That hole will never be filled until I see him again. Just like he told me recently, if I was to die it would leave a big hole in his heart...that's exactly how I feel. I do, along with the rest of the family, feel the prayers and love of so many. It's overwhelming sometimes to think how many lives Dad has touched. What a legacy he has left. As our family gathers and laughs and enjoys eachother's company, I have to think how proud he must be to have left such a legacy of love. Our family is not perfect, nor have we ever claimed to be but we do enjoy one another and feel a bond of love. I know we are blessed! We will continue to love and respect our sweet mother as our father has taught us. She is his other half and they were one in raising us. How greatful we are to her for the many, many hours she cared for Dad without letting anyone know how hard it was. She rarely even asked for help, she felt it was her job. She served him well and I know he will be forever greatful for not only taking care of him but always believing in him. He was "nuts" about her! And so are we...
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Letter from Bob Telford read by Anthony Telford at Dad's Memorial
March 7, 2009
Dear Eileen, Kathy, Rick, Jennie, Michael and Annie:
I don’t remember the exact time, but many years ago Richard, (He was Dick DeGruccio back then) and I made a deal. We were young; we had lots of dark hair and thought we would live forever. We agreed that whoever went first the other would speak at the funeral. We renewed this agreement often over the years. It seemed so far in the future that it was easy to talk about. I think I secretly hoped I would go first because I know Richard would have said wonderful things about me. He was the best funeral speaker I knew! He could have made a fortune as a professional funeral speaker!
A few years ago I had to start accepting the fact that Richard might go before me. It was hard to accept not just because I loved him so much, but who would speak for me? I hope you know that I did not decide to serve a mission to get out of our agreement. I really didn’t think Heavenly Father wanted him this soon. I just kept hoping and praying that he would regain his strength and be the Richard of yesterdays ready to go and serve God’s children, because that is what he did…He served and he loved it!
We first met when we moved from Florin Ward into Sacramento 7th ward. Eileen’s parents were so excited we were moving into 7th ward so we could meet Eileen and Richard. Brother and Sister Thomas had been like parents to us when we joined the Church, in Florin Ward. So I made a point to introduce myself to Richard on our first Sunday in 7th ward and our friendship began.
It was about 1975 when Richard was called as the Chairman of the Stake Youth Activities Committee and he called me as his counselor. It was then I saw the great leadership abilities he had. Everyone loved Richard, everyone enjoyed serving and working with him. He had personal skills that just made you want to work hard for him. Not long after that he was called as the Stake Young Men’s President and, you guessed it, I was his first counselor. We had so much fun in that calling. We worked with so many wonderful people. Murray Fowler was the second counselor, Pete Kenner and Ernie Westover were the High Counselors over YM and YW. What a team, what great friendships were fostered in that calling. I will never forget at a Stake Young Men’s Aaronic Priesthood Outing, at the campfire Richard was speaking and made the famous statement I will never forget…”anyone over 5’8” and under 180 lbs. is a mutant” I have repeated that statement over the years and believe he must have been inspired.
I have seen many times that when wards are split friendships seem to suffer Not with us. Over the years we moved several times but that never affected our friendship. As long as we were in the Rancho Cordova Stake, we still seemed to work together in one capacity or another. I served in bishoprics in 7th ward and Richard was either Bishop of 8th ward, or the Young Single Adult Ward or in the Stake Presidency. I even ended up Stake Executive Secretary when he was counselor in the Stake Presidency. We were always in some kind of meeting together where I could continue to learn and grow from watching and emulating him.
Back then, serving as I mentioned, we started our tradition of spending New Years Eve together. I think we spent every New Years Eve from about 1977 to 2008 together. It started out we would go to the Youth Dance at Mormon Center, then to the Young Single Adult Dance. Those are wonderful memories of lots of fun. I am sure that many of the kids that were at those dances are here today to pay their respects to Richard. After, as we were released from those callings we continued our tradition and as we got older it ended up dinner and movies at one of our homes. We saw some great movies…. like the one about a guy who travelled across the country on a riding lawn mower. They never let me forget that one.
I could go on for hours about the wonderful times we had together, our vacations together. For several years we rented a cabin near Tahoe and would spend time with our children in the snow. You need to have Eileen tell you about the time we went skiing. There isn’t time today.
Richard and Eileen were our models of parenting. Wendy and I learned so much from just observing them in raising their children. What a wonderful legacy Richard leaves in his children a credit to him as a father and Eileen as a mother. I often went to Richard for advice when I had a concern over one of my children. I remember when I went to him one time and he told me….”Let go, and pray” It was the perfect advice at the time, and I have to give some of the credit for my children to Richard and Eileen. My son, who is speaking for me now, is named after Richard, Anthony Richard Telford.
In my adult life, I have protected the title “best friend” I do not use that title loosely. I have given that title only twice, outside of my family, since I was 18 years old. Richard is one of those two. There are only a few people, in my life, I can say truly made a difference, truly influenced me to the good and helped make me who I am today. Richard DeGruccio is one of those special people.
I want to mention the love of Richard’s life, Eileen. What a wonderful example of love, patience and understanding she has been. I know it hasn’t been easy for her to watch the love of her life slowly pass away. I don’t think anyone could have done more than Eileen has these past few years. We were in Hawaii with Richard and Eileen two years ago. Richard was very slow, he couldn’t do much, but Eileen was patient and understanding. I needed to learn from her example. Eileen, we want you to know we love you, you will always be special to us. We look forward to February 2010 when we can be with you and offer our support.
I am so grateful that I injured my shoulder and had to come home for surgery last January. I was able to spend some time with Richard and enjoy his company and see that beautiful smile once more. It was worth having surgery just for that last hour with Richard.
I know where Richard is today, I have a firm and unshakable testimony of the plan of salvation. I believe Richard and I were friends before we came to this earth and we will continue to be friends throughout all eternity. I know that it is through the Atonement of Jesus Christ that Richard is fine. He is happy; he has been reunited with many loved ones and will prepare a place for Eileen and his family. There is a wonderful country and western song called “Waiting on a Woman” Richard is not in a hurry for Eileen to join him, he is content to wait for her, until Heavenly Father decides he has waited long enough. I know that through the sealing power of the Priesthood, the DeGruccio family will be a family forever. For anyone who reads or hears these remarks, I invite you to learn more about the Gospel of Jesus Christ that Richard loves so much. You know the kind of man Richard was during his mortal life. He is who he is because of the Gospel.
I leave you with my testimony that Christ Lives, that He is the head of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I testify that the atonement is real, and that through it we can be saved if we will just do our part. I testify that Joseph Smith was and is a Prophet of God and that we have a living Prophet on the earth today, even Thomas S. Monson. I testify of the Scriptures, the Bible, the Book of Mormon and other inspired works are the words of God given to us to help us find our way back. I testify that Richard lives and is happy and continues to love us as we continue to love him.
I cannot imagine ever having a better friend than Richard DeGruccio. Richard until we meet again; you are and will always be my best friend.
In the name of Jesus Christ….Amen
Dear Eileen, Kathy, Rick, Jennie, Michael and Annie:
I don’t remember the exact time, but many years ago Richard, (He was Dick DeGruccio back then) and I made a deal. We were young; we had lots of dark hair and thought we would live forever. We agreed that whoever went first the other would speak at the funeral. We renewed this agreement often over the years. It seemed so far in the future that it was easy to talk about. I think I secretly hoped I would go first because I know Richard would have said wonderful things about me. He was the best funeral speaker I knew! He could have made a fortune as a professional funeral speaker!
A few years ago I had to start accepting the fact that Richard might go before me. It was hard to accept not just because I loved him so much, but who would speak for me? I hope you know that I did not decide to serve a mission to get out of our agreement. I really didn’t think Heavenly Father wanted him this soon. I just kept hoping and praying that he would regain his strength and be the Richard of yesterdays ready to go and serve God’s children, because that is what he did…He served and he loved it!
We first met when we moved from Florin Ward into Sacramento 7th ward. Eileen’s parents were so excited we were moving into 7th ward so we could meet Eileen and Richard. Brother and Sister Thomas had been like parents to us when we joined the Church, in Florin Ward. So I made a point to introduce myself to Richard on our first Sunday in 7th ward and our friendship began.
It was about 1975 when Richard was called as the Chairman of the Stake Youth Activities Committee and he called me as his counselor. It was then I saw the great leadership abilities he had. Everyone loved Richard, everyone enjoyed serving and working with him. He had personal skills that just made you want to work hard for him. Not long after that he was called as the Stake Young Men’s President and, you guessed it, I was his first counselor. We had so much fun in that calling. We worked with so many wonderful people. Murray Fowler was the second counselor, Pete Kenner and Ernie Westover were the High Counselors over YM and YW. What a team, what great friendships were fostered in that calling. I will never forget at a Stake Young Men’s Aaronic Priesthood Outing, at the campfire Richard was speaking and made the famous statement I will never forget…”anyone over 5’8” and under 180 lbs. is a mutant” I have repeated that statement over the years and believe he must have been inspired.
I have seen many times that when wards are split friendships seem to suffer Not with us. Over the years we moved several times but that never affected our friendship. As long as we were in the Rancho Cordova Stake, we still seemed to work together in one capacity or another. I served in bishoprics in 7th ward and Richard was either Bishop of 8th ward, or the Young Single Adult Ward or in the Stake Presidency. I even ended up Stake Executive Secretary when he was counselor in the Stake Presidency. We were always in some kind of meeting together where I could continue to learn and grow from watching and emulating him.
Back then, serving as I mentioned, we started our tradition of spending New Years Eve together. I think we spent every New Years Eve from about 1977 to 2008 together. It started out we would go to the Youth Dance at Mormon Center, then to the Young Single Adult Dance. Those are wonderful memories of lots of fun. I am sure that many of the kids that were at those dances are here today to pay their respects to Richard. After, as we were released from those callings we continued our tradition and as we got older it ended up dinner and movies at one of our homes. We saw some great movies…. like the one about a guy who travelled across the country on a riding lawn mower. They never let me forget that one.
I could go on for hours about the wonderful times we had together, our vacations together. For several years we rented a cabin near Tahoe and would spend time with our children in the snow. You need to have Eileen tell you about the time we went skiing. There isn’t time today.
Richard and Eileen were our models of parenting. Wendy and I learned so much from just observing them in raising their children. What a wonderful legacy Richard leaves in his children a credit to him as a father and Eileen as a mother. I often went to Richard for advice when I had a concern over one of my children. I remember when I went to him one time and he told me….”Let go, and pray” It was the perfect advice at the time, and I have to give some of the credit for my children to Richard and Eileen. My son, who is speaking for me now, is named after Richard, Anthony Richard Telford.
In my adult life, I have protected the title “best friend” I do not use that title loosely. I have given that title only twice, outside of my family, since I was 18 years old. Richard is one of those two. There are only a few people, in my life, I can say truly made a difference, truly influenced me to the good and helped make me who I am today. Richard DeGruccio is one of those special people.
I want to mention the love of Richard’s life, Eileen. What a wonderful example of love, patience and understanding she has been. I know it hasn’t been easy for her to watch the love of her life slowly pass away. I don’t think anyone could have done more than Eileen has these past few years. We were in Hawaii with Richard and Eileen two years ago. Richard was very slow, he couldn’t do much, but Eileen was patient and understanding. I needed to learn from her example. Eileen, we want you to know we love you, you will always be special to us. We look forward to February 2010 when we can be with you and offer our support.
I am so grateful that I injured my shoulder and had to come home for surgery last January. I was able to spend some time with Richard and enjoy his company and see that beautiful smile once more. It was worth having surgery just for that last hour with Richard.
I know where Richard is today, I have a firm and unshakable testimony of the plan of salvation. I believe Richard and I were friends before we came to this earth and we will continue to be friends throughout all eternity. I know that it is through the Atonement of Jesus Christ that Richard is fine. He is happy; he has been reunited with many loved ones and will prepare a place for Eileen and his family. There is a wonderful country and western song called “Waiting on a Woman” Richard is not in a hurry for Eileen to join him, he is content to wait for her, until Heavenly Father decides he has waited long enough. I know that through the sealing power of the Priesthood, the DeGruccio family will be a family forever. For anyone who reads or hears these remarks, I invite you to learn more about the Gospel of Jesus Christ that Richard loves so much. You know the kind of man Richard was during his mortal life. He is who he is because of the Gospel.
I leave you with my testimony that Christ Lives, that He is the head of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I testify that the atonement is real, and that through it we can be saved if we will just do our part. I testify that Joseph Smith was and is a Prophet of God and that we have a living Prophet on the earth today, even Thomas S. Monson. I testify of the Scriptures, the Bible, the Book of Mormon and other inspired works are the words of God given to us to help us find our way back. I testify that Richard lives and is happy and continues to love us as we continue to love him.
I cannot imagine ever having a better friend than Richard DeGruccio. Richard until we meet again; you are and will always be my best friend.
In the name of Jesus Christ….Amen
Richard C. De Gruccio's Eulogy
If propriety didn’t have its way, Richard would have wanted us to each have some chips with salsa, a milkshake and diet pepsi because he knows how long memorials can last.
I am humbled to be asked to give the eulogy at my Father in law's memorial.
As I sat on the edge of my bed pondering our family’s patriarch and the life he shared with us all, I recalled many of his wonderful attributes and realized that all of his great qualities were what the savior spoke of in Matthew when he put forth the beatitudes. I, on the other, put forth to myself a less cinematic version for myself. My ‘whatatudes”. Richard De Gruccio, “what a man, what a husband, what a father, what a grandfather, what a friend, what a servant of the lord.” A truly remarkable soul. One deserving of the rich spirit of love that is felt here today. His passing instantly suspended reality for all of us which has given way to fond memories of a man who had shown his quality so many times. What are the qualities of the character of Richard De Gruccio? Honor, humility, humor and compassion are but a few. Eulogies are meant to honor those we cherish that have returned home. I can think of no better way to honor our father than to share with you parts and choices of his life that developed his character and spirit into the person that we gather here in humility to shed tears, laugh and pay respect.
Richard Charles De Gruccio was born on September 1, 1934 (Labor Day) during the Depression.
Richard Charles De Gruccio passed away in his bed On Friday morning March 6, 2009. 74 years old.
The beginning is beautiful, the ending is grand, but it’s the middle that we cherish, it’s the middle that we appreciate, it’s the middle that we take with us, it’s the middle where we get to use our agency and chose to be happy here and now. The Birth of the Savior was beautiful. The Atonement and sacrifice was and is grand, but the life he lead and the principles he taught, if followed, give us happiness …… here and now. The middle of the story is the most important to me. The middle is where he developed the attributes of honor, responsibility, faith humor, passion (for a good meal), and above all – compassion.
Richard De Gruccio’s story or middle, is one that all of us were blessed to share at one time or another, or we wouldn’t be here. I ask “What made the man.”
From his family history: His parents were Vincent De Gruccio & Ruth Barlow. Their marriage was short lived and by the time he was about two his Mother married John Barbieri. Richard was a man of Honor. He was given his sir name and knew John Barbieri as his father in his early years. Richard spent time with his dad Vincent but thought he was an uncle. When he was 12 years old he was told that Vincent was in fact his real father but he was already known to everyone (including himself) as Richard Barbieri. This is the name by which many of you knew him as an adult. As he matured he developed a relationship with his father that he not experienced as a child. Though he didn’t create the problem originally, he struggled often with the dilemma of carrying a name that was not really his birth name. And it also felt dishonoring to his heritage to not carry on the De Gruccio name, especially since he was his father’s only child, let alone his only son. Finally in 1985 he decided along with the agreement of his wife and children to return to their “roots” so to speak and change their name back using the sir name of De Gruccio. It was confusing to a lot of people at first but to Richard and his family; they had always known that De Gruccio was their rightful name and it that it was important to make that change.
Richard was responsible. He understood the necessity to sacrifice his own wants and desires for others. At an early age he was referred to as his Mom’s little man and apparently that was a role that he found himself in often as he was growing up. He was the responsible caring older brother that took on a fatherly role in the family and was expected to be a good example for his seven younger brothers & sisters. He gave up participating in sports and after school activities in Jr. High and High School because he had to be home to care for his younger siblings and other household responsibilities. Though it may have taken some opportunities away from him as youth, these experiences are probably in part where he learned to be so compassionate and caring of others.
Richard was a boy of faith. As a child he was physically frail as he struggled with chronic asthma. Twice in his life he was confined to Sanitariums to try and improve his health. Then when he was very ill and on the brink of death, he received a healing blessing from his Grandpa Barlow. He was healed and was never afflicted with asthma again.
Richard had a very caring nature during his life and wanted to give to others. He had few airs about him and being poor didn’t mean you couldn't contribute to others happiness. Richard was a true believer in the principle that “it’s the thought that counts”. The roots of that belief might have been borne this childhood experience. From an entry in his journal "I wanted to give Miss West , my 6th grade teacher, a Christmas gift. But, I had no money. So I found a box of Bubble Bath that was about one-third full of granuals. I took it and added Tide to fill it up the rest of the way. I wrapped it up and put a camellia on top for a bow. It gave her a terrible rash and she missed school because of it. She called and sked what was in the box and I had to confess that I had added Tide to the Bubble Bath. It was very embarrassing. I just wanted to give her a gift and had no idea that would happen."
He was a person of priorities. After graduating from High School he found a job that he really loved which was working in a Nursery that grew & promulgated Camellias and Azaleas and sold them all over the world. It was an Italian family that owned the nursery and they really liked Richard & started including him in many of their family celebrations which always included wonderful home cooked Italian food. The father of this family thought that Richard had great potential and offered to pay for his college education if he would go to college instead of going on a mission for his church. But he had a desire to serve the Lord on a mission. So at age nineteen he prepared himself and was called to serve a mission in the Western States Region which included Colorado, New Mexico & parts of Nebraska. He served an honorable mission for two years and he loved and was beloved by many of the people that he taught and served during that time.
After his mission he came back and worked at the nursery again and attended the Pasadena City College. (Following the counsel of the Church) He dated several girls and was even engaged for a short time, but he remained single until he was 26 yrs old. He met Eileen Louise Thomas when he was 24 and they dated for 2 years before they were married in the Los Angeles Temple on June 24th, 1960. Richard and Eileen have five children, Kathy, Rick, Jenny, Mike & Annie. I should put the dates that of his 5 wonderful children but I’m afraid I’d get the dates wrong. Especially my wife’s. One thing that Richard taught me when I worked for his Coolant Recycling company is to “never over-promise but to always over deliver. “ You get to be the hero that way. So honey, I promise you’ll always get your present sometime in June.
They are all married and have 18 grandchildren as of this date. If I can quote my mother-in-law. “Their children have always been of prime importance to them both and they are extremely proud of the kind and loving adults that they are and the honorable way in which they live their individual lives including the great spouses they all have chosen.” Their grandchildren are the delight of their lives. They brought continual joy to Richard. Even in his last days he was loved and entertained by them.
An enormous amount of Richard’s life was spent in service to others. He had a gift of compassion and would always lend a listening ear and a big heart to those who knew him in any way. When in conversation with Richard you never questioned whether he was listening or even more so was going through the motions. You were the center of his world when engaged with him. You were important no matter how deep or trivial the topic. That was the same for all whether it was while he was at work or church or a casual meeting in some public setting. He often donated service to schools, church and community. He was very active in Rotary for about six years and served as Vice President & President for two years. His church service includes many years of working with the youth and single adults, teaching seminary and doctrinal classes and many years of leadership positions. Many of you here knew him as their Bishop as he served in that position two times. He served for a time as a counselor in the Spanish Branch when they met downtown in the old “O” Street building. Spanish branch was an experience that his children still recall as wonderful and I’m sure he accepted this calling almost as much for the salsa as for the people he would serve. He was the Bishop of 8th Ward in the Sacramento Cordova Stake and then years later he was called again to serve in the Bradshaw Single Adult ward in the same stake. In between those two Bishopric callings he served for 14 years as a counselor in the Stake Presidency under two Stake Presidents. He served first under President Richard Montgomery and then President Joseph Hodgson. His most recent calling before becoming ill was serving on the High Council for many years with the Single Adults. He was known for his great capacity to love and his creativity in administering his callings. He was known as a favorite teacher and speaker over the years. He definitely had a gift for both.
He had the rare gift to teach and touch hearts through his humor and wit, though he didn’t just save it for church. If there was a one-liner to be had, he would find it and deliver it. Even until the end. To quote the family my wife Jenny wrote blog: "Annie and I got him ready for bed and then he asked for a kiss, we both kissed him and Annie kissed him on his lips and noticed his mouth was bleeding. So I flicked on the lights and started lifting up his lips to examine his gums and he said,"What are you trying to do? But a Horse?" When they tried to take a milk shake away from him, he said "over my dead body!" Richard De Gruccio embodied a great cause - `the great cause of cheering us all up'. Richard was a soldier of humor of timely quips that helped us understand that life would be ok, that there is light at the end of the dark tunnel of circumstance. Yet his humor often had a purpose beyond humor. In his last months his easy jokes gave reassurance to an anxious family that was watching him knowingly deteriorate.
The actions and choices make the man the one who touched the hearts and souls of many.
The greatest attribute from God that can ease our lives during our time here is the knowledge that you are blessed. Richard understood what it meant to be blessed. Understanding this requires humility and gratitude and living by the motto life is about “wanting what you’ve got”. Christmas eve of 1996 – after the grandchildren’s birth of the savior play, after the hugs and I love yous to each other and strangers that always seemed to be welcome in his home, and after our Christmas Eve Testimony meeting , the epiphany that he has had many times he had again. He looked at his beautiful bride of 36 years and said quietly to her with moisture in his eyes “we truly are blessed”. Our father who truly lived his life to try to be instrument to bless others, who blessed a thousand lives knows that he is blessed through same. What does instrument mean? President Gordon B Hinkley said “My satisfaction has come from the assurance that I did what the Lord wanted me to do and that I was an instrument in His hands for the accomplishment of His purposes. Go forth with a spirit of dedication, placing yourself in the hands of the Lord to do His great work.” What is that great work?
Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
How did he love his neighbor? How did he love you?
Lend his ear? Be a confidant? Teach you with love? Give you a warm embrace? Laugh with you? Laughed at himself? Prayed with you? Did you hear him speak and it bettered your day?; did it change your life? To put it simply, to me, Richard’s personal purpose, his sub-conscious goal was help people to be happy and to love them, to be a Christian. To follow his elder brother Christ.
With 2 months before his passing, despite the discomfort, pain and the quality of life that he was missing, Richard spoke to my wife; his daughter Jenny and said these words.
“I’m not ready to leave. I haven’t loved enough people yet.”
This is the man we knew. This is the soul that we know.
June of 2003 he was diagnosed with Congestive heart failure. That was the beginning of a six year struggle that gradually took away his ability to function normally. Eileen and their three daughters with the help of many friends and family and a team of hospice workers kept him as comfortable and nurtured as possible. On Friday morning March 6, 2009 he opened his eyes and smiled sweetly at his wife and daughter Annie as they fluffed his pillow and gave him a bit of moisture for his mouth. He slipped back to sleep and moments later Jenny walked up and realized that his big loving heart stopped beating and he passed peacefully into God’s keeping.
In Closing may I quote the Lords instructions to Moses concerning how he was instructed to bless the house of Israel and might I be presumptuous enough to think that these might be Richards’s words to us.
The Lord bless thee, and keep thee:
The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee:
The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.
May the LORD bless you, and keep you;
May the LORD make His countenance shine upon you, and be gracious to you;
May the LORD turn His countenance to you and grant you peace.
by Paul P. Chidester (Son-in-Law)
I am humbled to be asked to give the eulogy at my Father in law's memorial.
As I sat on the edge of my bed pondering our family’s patriarch and the life he shared with us all, I recalled many of his wonderful attributes and realized that all of his great qualities were what the savior spoke of in Matthew when he put forth the beatitudes. I, on the other, put forth to myself a less cinematic version for myself. My ‘whatatudes”. Richard De Gruccio, “what a man, what a husband, what a father, what a grandfather, what a friend, what a servant of the lord.” A truly remarkable soul. One deserving of the rich spirit of love that is felt here today. His passing instantly suspended reality for all of us which has given way to fond memories of a man who had shown his quality so many times. What are the qualities of the character of Richard De Gruccio? Honor, humility, humor and compassion are but a few. Eulogies are meant to honor those we cherish that have returned home. I can think of no better way to honor our father than to share with you parts and choices of his life that developed his character and spirit into the person that we gather here in humility to shed tears, laugh and pay respect.
Richard Charles De Gruccio was born on September 1, 1934 (Labor Day) during the Depression.
Richard Charles De Gruccio passed away in his bed On Friday morning March 6, 2009. 74 years old.
The beginning is beautiful, the ending is grand, but it’s the middle that we cherish, it’s the middle that we appreciate, it’s the middle that we take with us, it’s the middle where we get to use our agency and chose to be happy here and now. The Birth of the Savior was beautiful. The Atonement and sacrifice was and is grand, but the life he lead and the principles he taught, if followed, give us happiness …… here and now. The middle of the story is the most important to me. The middle is where he developed the attributes of honor, responsibility, faith humor, passion (for a good meal), and above all – compassion.
Richard De Gruccio’s story or middle, is one that all of us were blessed to share at one time or another, or we wouldn’t be here. I ask “What made the man.”
From his family history: His parents were Vincent De Gruccio & Ruth Barlow. Their marriage was short lived and by the time he was about two his Mother married John Barbieri. Richard was a man of Honor. He was given his sir name and knew John Barbieri as his father in his early years. Richard spent time with his dad Vincent but thought he was an uncle. When he was 12 years old he was told that Vincent was in fact his real father but he was already known to everyone (including himself) as Richard Barbieri. This is the name by which many of you knew him as an adult. As he matured he developed a relationship with his father that he not experienced as a child. Though he didn’t create the problem originally, he struggled often with the dilemma of carrying a name that was not really his birth name. And it also felt dishonoring to his heritage to not carry on the De Gruccio name, especially since he was his father’s only child, let alone his only son. Finally in 1985 he decided along with the agreement of his wife and children to return to their “roots” so to speak and change their name back using the sir name of De Gruccio. It was confusing to a lot of people at first but to Richard and his family; they had always known that De Gruccio was their rightful name and it that it was important to make that change.
Richard was responsible. He understood the necessity to sacrifice his own wants and desires for others. At an early age he was referred to as his Mom’s little man and apparently that was a role that he found himself in often as he was growing up. He was the responsible caring older brother that took on a fatherly role in the family and was expected to be a good example for his seven younger brothers & sisters. He gave up participating in sports and after school activities in Jr. High and High School because he had to be home to care for his younger siblings and other household responsibilities. Though it may have taken some opportunities away from him as youth, these experiences are probably in part where he learned to be so compassionate and caring of others.
Richard was a boy of faith. As a child he was physically frail as he struggled with chronic asthma. Twice in his life he was confined to Sanitariums to try and improve his health. Then when he was very ill and on the brink of death, he received a healing blessing from his Grandpa Barlow. He was healed and was never afflicted with asthma again.
Richard had a very caring nature during his life and wanted to give to others. He had few airs about him and being poor didn’t mean you couldn't contribute to others happiness. Richard was a true believer in the principle that “it’s the thought that counts”. The roots of that belief might have been borne this childhood experience. From an entry in his journal "I wanted to give Miss West , my 6th grade teacher, a Christmas gift. But, I had no money. So I found a box of Bubble Bath that was about one-third full of granuals. I took it and added Tide to fill it up the rest of the way. I wrapped it up and put a camellia on top for a bow. It gave her a terrible rash and she missed school because of it. She called and sked what was in the box and I had to confess that I had added Tide to the Bubble Bath. It was very embarrassing. I just wanted to give her a gift and had no idea that would happen."
He was a person of priorities. After graduating from High School he found a job that he really loved which was working in a Nursery that grew & promulgated Camellias and Azaleas and sold them all over the world. It was an Italian family that owned the nursery and they really liked Richard & started including him in many of their family celebrations which always included wonderful home cooked Italian food. The father of this family thought that Richard had great potential and offered to pay for his college education if he would go to college instead of going on a mission for his church. But he had a desire to serve the Lord on a mission. So at age nineteen he prepared himself and was called to serve a mission in the Western States Region which included Colorado, New Mexico & parts of Nebraska. He served an honorable mission for two years and he loved and was beloved by many of the people that he taught and served during that time.
After his mission he came back and worked at the nursery again and attended the Pasadena City College. (Following the counsel of the Church) He dated several girls and was even engaged for a short time, but he remained single until he was 26 yrs old. He met Eileen Louise Thomas when he was 24 and they dated for 2 years before they were married in the Los Angeles Temple on June 24th, 1960. Richard and Eileen have five children, Kathy, Rick, Jenny, Mike & Annie. I should put the dates that of his 5 wonderful children but I’m afraid I’d get the dates wrong. Especially my wife’s. One thing that Richard taught me when I worked for his Coolant Recycling company is to “never over-promise but to always over deliver. “ You get to be the hero that way. So honey, I promise you’ll always get your present sometime in June.
They are all married and have 18 grandchildren as of this date. If I can quote my mother-in-law. “Their children have always been of prime importance to them both and they are extremely proud of the kind and loving adults that they are and the honorable way in which they live their individual lives including the great spouses they all have chosen.” Their grandchildren are the delight of their lives. They brought continual joy to Richard. Even in his last days he was loved and entertained by them.
An enormous amount of Richard’s life was spent in service to others. He had a gift of compassion and would always lend a listening ear and a big heart to those who knew him in any way. When in conversation with Richard you never questioned whether he was listening or even more so was going through the motions. You were the center of his world when engaged with him. You were important no matter how deep or trivial the topic. That was the same for all whether it was while he was at work or church or a casual meeting in some public setting. He often donated service to schools, church and community. He was very active in Rotary for about six years and served as Vice President & President for two years. His church service includes many years of working with the youth and single adults, teaching seminary and doctrinal classes and many years of leadership positions. Many of you here knew him as their Bishop as he served in that position two times. He served for a time as a counselor in the Spanish Branch when they met downtown in the old “O” Street building. Spanish branch was an experience that his children still recall as wonderful and I’m sure he accepted this calling almost as much for the salsa as for the people he would serve. He was the Bishop of 8th Ward in the Sacramento Cordova Stake and then years later he was called again to serve in the Bradshaw Single Adult ward in the same stake. In between those two Bishopric callings he served for 14 years as a counselor in the Stake Presidency under two Stake Presidents. He served first under President Richard Montgomery and then President Joseph Hodgson. His most recent calling before becoming ill was serving on the High Council for many years with the Single Adults. He was known for his great capacity to love and his creativity in administering his callings. He was known as a favorite teacher and speaker over the years. He definitely had a gift for both.
He had the rare gift to teach and touch hearts through his humor and wit, though he didn’t just save it for church. If there was a one-liner to be had, he would find it and deliver it. Even until the end. To quote the family my wife Jenny wrote blog: "Annie and I got him ready for bed and then he asked for a kiss, we both kissed him and Annie kissed him on his lips and noticed his mouth was bleeding. So I flicked on the lights and started lifting up his lips to examine his gums and he said,"What are you trying to do? But a Horse?" When they tried to take a milk shake away from him, he said "over my dead body!" Richard De Gruccio embodied a great cause - `the great cause of cheering us all up'. Richard was a soldier of humor of timely quips that helped us understand that life would be ok, that there is light at the end of the dark tunnel of circumstance. Yet his humor often had a purpose beyond humor. In his last months his easy jokes gave reassurance to an anxious family that was watching him knowingly deteriorate.
The actions and choices make the man the one who touched the hearts and souls of many.
The greatest attribute from God that can ease our lives during our time here is the knowledge that you are blessed. Richard understood what it meant to be blessed. Understanding this requires humility and gratitude and living by the motto life is about “wanting what you’ve got”. Christmas eve of 1996 – after the grandchildren’s birth of the savior play, after the hugs and I love yous to each other and strangers that always seemed to be welcome in his home, and after our Christmas Eve Testimony meeting , the epiphany that he has had many times he had again. He looked at his beautiful bride of 36 years and said quietly to her with moisture in his eyes “we truly are blessed”. Our father who truly lived his life to try to be instrument to bless others, who blessed a thousand lives knows that he is blessed through same. What does instrument mean? President Gordon B Hinkley said “My satisfaction has come from the assurance that I did what the Lord wanted me to do and that I was an instrument in His hands for the accomplishment of His purposes. Go forth with a spirit of dedication, placing yourself in the hands of the Lord to do His great work.” What is that great work?
Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
How did he love his neighbor? How did he love you?
Lend his ear? Be a confidant? Teach you with love? Give you a warm embrace? Laugh with you? Laughed at himself? Prayed with you? Did you hear him speak and it bettered your day?; did it change your life? To put it simply, to me, Richard’s personal purpose, his sub-conscious goal was help people to be happy and to love them, to be a Christian. To follow his elder brother Christ.
With 2 months before his passing, despite the discomfort, pain and the quality of life that he was missing, Richard spoke to my wife; his daughter Jenny and said these words.
“I’m not ready to leave. I haven’t loved enough people yet.”
This is the man we knew. This is the soul that we know.
June of 2003 he was diagnosed with Congestive heart failure. That was the beginning of a six year struggle that gradually took away his ability to function normally. Eileen and their three daughters with the help of many friends and family and a team of hospice workers kept him as comfortable and nurtured as possible. On Friday morning March 6, 2009 he opened his eyes and smiled sweetly at his wife and daughter Annie as they fluffed his pillow and gave him a bit of moisture for his mouth. He slipped back to sleep and moments later Jenny walked up and realized that his big loving heart stopped beating and he passed peacefully into God’s keeping.
In Closing may I quote the Lords instructions to Moses concerning how he was instructed to bless the house of Israel and might I be presumptuous enough to think that these might be Richards’s words to us.
The Lord bless thee, and keep thee:
The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee:
The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.
May the LORD bless you, and keep you;
May the LORD make His countenance shine upon you, and be gracious to you;
May the LORD turn His countenance to you and grant you peace.
by Paul P. Chidester (Son-in-Law)
What I learned from Dad...at Memorial Services by Jenny Chidester
I am Jenny Chidester, Richard and Eileen’s middle child. I always thought I was Daddy’s Favorite, but we all thought that.
I am honoring our Father by sharing with you what he taught us as children.
The first is of FAITH- ~Dad wrote this quote many years ago. “When we can't answer the why we must trust in the reason. When we can't see the reason we must trust in the plan. When the plan becomes obscure we must surrender our lives to God's unfailing love.”
Dad taught us to have Faith in the Lord and to serve the Lord by serving his children.Dad's example of unwavering faith and love of serving others is what strengthened my testimony the most.
When I was a young adult, I was working for a member of our ward. After a couple of weeks of working there my boss took me home. As I got out of the car he very sadly turned to me and said is your Mom single? I haven’t seen your Dad at church with her... I laughed, “oh he's at church alright, He’s just not sitting with us. In fact he is in our Stake Presidency. We both had a good laugh.The Second Lesson was that of FAMILY-
I think my Dad’s motto was “Treat your family like friends and friends like family.”
We learned that family should be your priority and that a mother was to be adored and respected. He also taught us to make our own decisions by putting his complete trust in us.
I remember a couple times getting woke up late at night by Dad after he returned from a late church meeting. He would have all of us go down and complete the dishes we had left behind for our mom to do. We couldn't go back to bed until the job was complete. We learned real fast to always have the dishes done for Mom when Dad was away.What a great lesson I learned from that: To do a job and do it well!
The third lesson we learned was that ofFRIENDS- This saying was in our Family Room : Tis Better far to trust all and be deceived than to doubt one fond heart that should be believed. This was another of Dad's mottos.We learned to not judge, to trust and to love unconditionally. We learned that there was always room for one more…
Our home always had an open door policy and we never knew who would be the guest at any family gathering. We knew they felt loved by Dad and that is all that really mattered.
Dad had a special talent for making everyone think they were special to him, and you had no doubt that he loved you.
While I was at Ricks College my Dad wrote this in a letter to me,
“We had a great Stake Conference and we were told that we have one of the best presidencies in the bi-region. That makes me grateful to serve with President Hodgson. “
Dad developed many sweet friendships during his many years of church service.
President Hodgson shared with us recently that during Stake Conference many years ago Dad announced that the Stake color was “chocolate”. They loved serving with one another, and they both shared a great love of chocolate.
The last thing we learned was the love of food-Dad believed that when Faith, Family, and Friends were combined there should be food and fun.
~Mark Twain said Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside. I believe Dad felt the same way.
I personally learned to love Mexican food, peppercini's, salsa the hotter the better, Tabasco sauce, fresh tomato salad, garlic bread, and chocolate from my Dad.
A couple of weeks ago Dad was a little delusional due to his liver failure. He knew who we all were, but came up with some interesting stories throughout the day. Annie and I were talking with him and he informed us that we had exactly two hours to prepare to go to dinner. He said there is going to be 18 of us going to Mexican food and we'd better go get ready. He had twenty dollars and he was paying for it. Then he asked for a comb. Annie said, “oh did you want to comb your hair? Dad said, “no for the two of you” and Annie said “oh do we need a comb?” And Dad said, “Well …I wasn’t going to say anything”… we had a good laugh.
One of Dad’s closest friends, Frank Sanchez, said to Dad once, “If there aren’t enchiladas in the Celestial Kingdom, I’m not going… and Dad agreed
He was determined to get us out to mexican food these past few months. So we will honor his wishes by celebrating with food, family, faith and friends.
Kathy, Annie and I are honored to have been our Father’s caretakers during the last year and a half of his life along with our Mother. We had many tender moments with him individually and will always treasure that time we spent with him especially the last few weeks of his life.
I am honored to be his daughter and along with my siblings will strive to carry on his legacy of love.
Two things I have always known my whole life that God loved me and that my Daddy loved me unconditionally. Who could ask for more? ~Jenny (Daughter)
I am honoring our Father by sharing with you what he taught us as children.
The first is of FAITH- ~Dad wrote this quote many years ago. “When we can't answer the why we must trust in the reason. When we can't see the reason we must trust in the plan. When the plan becomes obscure we must surrender our lives to God's unfailing love.”
Dad taught us to have Faith in the Lord and to serve the Lord by serving his children.Dad's example of unwavering faith and love of serving others is what strengthened my testimony the most.
When I was a young adult, I was working for a member of our ward. After a couple of weeks of working there my boss took me home. As I got out of the car he very sadly turned to me and said is your Mom single? I haven’t seen your Dad at church with her... I laughed, “oh he's at church alright, He’s just not sitting with us. In fact he is in our Stake Presidency. We both had a good laugh.The Second Lesson was that of FAMILY-
I think my Dad’s motto was “Treat your family like friends and friends like family.”
We learned that family should be your priority and that a mother was to be adored and respected. He also taught us to make our own decisions by putting his complete trust in us.
I remember a couple times getting woke up late at night by Dad after he returned from a late church meeting. He would have all of us go down and complete the dishes we had left behind for our mom to do. We couldn't go back to bed until the job was complete. We learned real fast to always have the dishes done for Mom when Dad was away.What a great lesson I learned from that: To do a job and do it well!
The third lesson we learned was that ofFRIENDS- This saying was in our Family Room : Tis Better far to trust all and be deceived than to doubt one fond heart that should be believed. This was another of Dad's mottos.We learned to not judge, to trust and to love unconditionally. We learned that there was always room for one more…
Our home always had an open door policy and we never knew who would be the guest at any family gathering. We knew they felt loved by Dad and that is all that really mattered.
Dad had a special talent for making everyone think they were special to him, and you had no doubt that he loved you.
While I was at Ricks College my Dad wrote this in a letter to me,
“We had a great Stake Conference and we were told that we have one of the best presidencies in the bi-region. That makes me grateful to serve with President Hodgson. “
Dad developed many sweet friendships during his many years of church service.
President Hodgson shared with us recently that during Stake Conference many years ago Dad announced that the Stake color was “chocolate”. They loved serving with one another, and they both shared a great love of chocolate.
The last thing we learned was the love of food-Dad believed that when Faith, Family, and Friends were combined there should be food and fun.
~Mark Twain said Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside. I believe Dad felt the same way.
I personally learned to love Mexican food, peppercini's, salsa the hotter the better, Tabasco sauce, fresh tomato salad, garlic bread, and chocolate from my Dad.
A couple of weeks ago Dad was a little delusional due to his liver failure. He knew who we all were, but came up with some interesting stories throughout the day. Annie and I were talking with him and he informed us that we had exactly two hours to prepare to go to dinner. He said there is going to be 18 of us going to Mexican food and we'd better go get ready. He had twenty dollars and he was paying for it. Then he asked for a comb. Annie said, “oh did you want to comb your hair? Dad said, “no for the two of you” and Annie said “oh do we need a comb?” And Dad said, “Well …I wasn’t going to say anything”… we had a good laugh.
One of Dad’s closest friends, Frank Sanchez, said to Dad once, “If there aren’t enchiladas in the Celestial Kingdom, I’m not going… and Dad agreed
He was determined to get us out to mexican food these past few months. So we will honor his wishes by celebrating with food, family, faith and friends.
Kathy, Annie and I are honored to have been our Father’s caretakers during the last year and a half of his life along with our Mother. We had many tender moments with him individually and will always treasure that time we spent with him especially the last few weeks of his life.
I am honored to be his daughter and along with my siblings will strive to carry on his legacy of love.
Two things I have always known my whole life that God loved me and that my Daddy loved me unconditionally. Who could ask for more? ~Jenny (Daughter)
For My Sweet Father and Dear Friend, Richard C. (Barbieri) De Gruccio
When I was younger, I always felt a bit sorry for speakers who had to follow after my father at the pulpit. I confess to feeling totally inadequate in trying to follow up his life with mere words. And though I teach and write for a living-- I’ve struggled tremendously to find a way to express my emotions.
My father, as you all know, was a jovial, warm soul. He loved to laugh--talk over a plate of Mexican food, share his cilantro salsa, kiss and embrace friends who crossed his path. He showed affection freely and he was sincerely interested in other people. He was a natural born leader with spellbinding oratorical skills. He was an optimist, a dreamer (sometimes to a fault), a man of hope….
If I have one goal here it is to celebrate my father’s life, and in the process shed light on the supreme love of God. In celebrating Dad, I want to bring hope to those who feel hopeless. I want to help doubters see the face of God; and for those of us who have lost our moral imaginations---to learn to imagine again. I can think of no greater or more fitting tribute to my father….
But to do this, I feel I should speak plainly and tell you about a side of my father that many of you do not know. If you will stick with me for a moment, I promise that by honestly discussing my father’s life, we can begin to glimpse the miracle of God’s grace in our ordinary lives—and how God works through the weak—that is you and me—and that despite our flaws---through Christ—we can be transformed.
Just as it is for so many of us here today, my father’s early life was a great source of sorrow. Among his personal papers, and notebooks, we found a poem written by him sometime in his teenage years, with these plaintive words:
"I do not know what love is
but I do know what it is not."
I won’t read the entire poem; for now, just one more line should suffice: “[Love],” Dad wrote, “is not being told you are too little, too slow, or not pretty to look at
It is not being told that you are dumb or not to talk too loud or not talk at all.”
Whatever it was that Dad was responding to in that poem, it’s something that he trucked around with him from his childhood to his final days. I recall my dad confessing to me on more than one occasion that he wished that just once his biological father would have expressed his love for my dad; that is, Dad wished that his father would have just uttered the words “I Love You”. This isn’t to say that my father had no loving memories---or that those who raised him failed in all things, but instead that like many of us here there was a gap between what we claim the family provides us, and what we really get. Like so many of us here, he simply yearned for more love. One thing that I think particularly hurt my father was when, much later in life, when his father Vincent died (though they had developed a more meaningful relationship over the years), Dad learned that Grandpa Vince, for reasons that remain unclear, had removed his only child (that is, my father) from his (Vince’s) will.
I did not share this so you’d pity my father. He doesn’t need pity, and he wouldn’t want it either. But I thought it might cause many of you to wonder how it is that someone who seemed to be searching for love had so much of it to freely give away. For me, this is a question that gets at the real meaning of Christian discipleship. And it points to the miracle of God’s grace in the life of my father—and the miracle that awaits each of us.
Dad was something of a broken man who spent much of his time mending the lives of others. As my mother will attest, he never learned to take care of himself—to address his psychological and physical needs--- though he wore himself thin providing solace for the lonely souls around him.
From my earliest memories, I recall our house as a place of refuge for others. Nephews, step-brothers, cousins, frightened women and other wearied souls at the end of their rope, coming in and out of our home---sleeping in our extra beds, or parking on our living room couch. When my father loved he often supplemented the counseling and listening by breaking bread, including them in our family Christmas celebrations, and offering a place to rest.
Let me quote something from a letter he wrote Eileen in the mid 1990s:
“Dear…. Perhaps some of the most beautiful feelings that we have shared have been when we have reached out as a couple and given ourselves to [others]. I must admit that most of the time I am the follower and you the leader when we are doing good. I guess that not only do I garner wonderful feelings from the doing good but I also love you more for the goodness that you have always shown to those in need. I believe that doing things for others is a vital part of our philosophy of life and that it is a compliment to our choices to do those kinds of things together. I think of all the people that we have aided in some way by taking them in our home and it is only good feelings that I have for those times. Even the painful times still reward me with a feeling that we were trying to do the right things. [I won’t elaborate here, but sometimes the ghosts that haunted these individuals became psychologically taxing on my parents—ending in increased sorrow.] My feelings overall are ones of gratitude for what we have and [the ability] of sharing with others our good fortune. That is, not only in material things, but also in things of the heart. Finally when we do those things together it reinforces the fact that we are really two people that are one. Our coupleness is very important to me. I am really incomplete without you….”
As many of you know, the Pharisee, and lawyer, tempted Christ with this question:
Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
In other words, no matter how many times we follow the laws of God—if this obedience fails to move us toward love, if the rules don’t transform us into lovers of fellow humans—and through them, God---then we have become little more than slaves to the law.
In John 4—we read
'Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.
If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen? "
And this commandment have we from him, That he who loveth God love his brother also.
Americans love individualism and self-reliance. And we spend a good deal of time talking about these things in our church. And while both can be virtues—indeed we are commanded to be agents acting, not acted upon—individualism and self-reliance too often blind us to the central message of Christ, and to the ways in which each of us is dependent. We are, more than we admit, dependent beings. God designed it this way. Lest we forget, we all begin and most of us will end our livers in absolute neediness. We start life helpless and end it the same. And it is from others that we learn the story of life. As a middle-aged father, I feel like I am finally beginning to glimpse the narrative of life, now that I have seen both my father and children helplessly cared for, spoon fed, and cleaned by loving hands. Sometimes my own hands. Much more often hands that have comforted or healed me in my own hours of need. For many of us, it is from our children we learn what it is to be born, and from our parents we discover how it is we die. And it is through another soul—to whom me are married—that we learn about the gift of sexuality—the exquisite gift of the self to another. And even in our gospel family, there is no ritual, no ordinance, no sacrament that we can give to ourselves. At every point along the line-- from baptism, to healing, to temple marriage, we literally need the presence of others. From Joseph Smith’s divine revelation about temple work for the dead, we know that not only are we dependent on the living, but the living and dead are dependent on one another. When Joseph Smith first introduced temple marriage, he did not imagine couples and children living as nuclear families throughout eternity (something that we often imagine today), but instead he saw a thick web of humanity—a great chain of interlocking families welded together by Christ. Relationship is so central to the LDS gospel that even our unique conception of God points to it. Unlike most of the Christian world, we believe in and worship a Godhead made up of three distinct beings—who are separate as fingers on my hand, yet that are so profoundly, intimately united that we refer to them as being one. In a very real way, we don’t just worship God the Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost—but instead we worship their unity, their divine togetherness; that is, our God—the one we worship---is a relationship.
It was the flawed, rough-and-tumble farmboy, Joseph Smith, who introduced to the world many of these beautiful if shocking truths about our connections with one another and how through these connections we can commune with the Godhead. My father, as you might guess, was one of the first to tell me the strange and magnificent stories about Joseph Smith. But even more, it was through my father’s actions, that I came to see the ways in which God is found through loving community—through relationships. It is to a large extent through my father that I learned what Christ meant when he told us that loving God and loving one another are inseparable. And that loving our immediate family is important but must NOT stop there. As Joseph Smith put it “a man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the world, anxious to bless the whole human race.”
Actually, blessing one’s family and “ranging through the world” to bless others are not so mutually exclusive. My father spent many evenings counseling broken couples, administering to the confused and lonely. But even if I missed my father’s presence all those evenings, I learned in my marrow the meaning of Zion. I watched him as he administered to and defended the interests of single adults in the gospel, trying to change a culture in our church that makes unmarried members or the divorced feel incomplete or out of synch. Though I was just a baby, I know from stories how much he relished his years in the Spanish (Mexican-American) branch where he learned to see God in the faces of the dispossessed. I remember as a young man I witnessed how my father personally served and administered to homosexuals. During a time of HIV-paranoia and homophobia, my father worked closely—that is, he listened to, comforted, touched, hugged, and loved men dying of AIDS—who, partly through my father, tasted the sweetness of Christ’s love. And he did all of these things while playing the romantic to his wife—he was always her biggest fan—and maintaining friendships with each of his children. I don’t ever recall him prodding, coercing, or threatening me into being a certain way. Instead he listened and waited. I have many memories of him driving in his car with me, listening to my rap music on a cassette tape—trying to meet me where I was coming from. In short I witnessed how he spent much of his time with people of different backgrounds, tastes, and needs---whether in his larger community or sitting beside his son.
I want to end with two brief stories that I think give a glimpse into my father’s soul.
During my mission I worked closely with a family led by a single father named Juan. Years before, Juan’s wife died of cancer and left him with five young children. Together Juan and his wife had built their home with their own hands, and when she died soon after, she left Juan in a house haunted with daily reminders of her absence—from the stonework to the faces of his children. And Juan took to drinking. He seemed to drink the heaviest on Sundays and the times he anticipated spending with his family.
When my parents came to visit me after my mission, we attended a lively farewell fiesta in a member’s home. During the festivities my father noticed Juan’s occasional lonely expressions between the laughter. My dad asked me if I would ask Juan to come with him outside to talk. On a narrow dirty street of cinderblock homes, with music coming from the fiesta, my father spoke to Juan through me.
“Juan, I can’t help notice that you have sadness in you….?”
“Juan, are you sad?”
Juan’s eyes narrowed a bit and he silently nodded. I don’t remember if my father already knew that Juan had lost his wife, or if he learned it right there through subsequent questions, but by the end of the conversation my father knew that Juan had lost his wife and that we was missing her amid the merriment.
“Mike,” my father continued, “please tell him this…Juan, in the name of Christ, I promise that you will be with your sweet wife again.”
After I translated what my crying father had just said, Juan began sobbing too. Years later, his daughters asked me what happened outside the party that day, as every time they tried to pry it out of Juan, he would leave the room weeping.
In the summer of 2003, my father came to me one morning and asked me to take him to the hospital (and when Dad offered to go see the doctor, we knew it had to be serious). In the emergency room that day he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure; and as his friends know, since that day, he was never the same—as something inside him died and he began slipping away from us by increments. But the night before he was admitted (Mom was away with her mother at a family reunion) I was working upstairs remodeling my mom’s bathroom. Dad had been complaining of his health—weakness, dizziness, shortness of breath. He could barely make it up the stairs. As I worked on my knees, I had heard someone come to the door and knew that dad had let someone in. I remember later that evening walking down the stairs. The sunlight was almost gone and there was a dim light over the dinner table. I could see, seated at the table, a needy member of Dad’s old ward (congregation). He had showed up at the door unannounced as he occasionally did at my parents’ home and at my father’s shop downtown. He was a gentle man with a dark past and profound mental deficiencies. He was also a drifter. He slept in an auto salvage yard where he pulled engine parts in exchange for a place to sleep. [My father had once set him up in a rented house with two other struggling young men; but like many of the things my father tried to do for desperate people, this strategy only worked temporarily as the essence of poverty and mental illness challenged some of his most sincere efforts]. That evening my father’s guest had walked, as he always did, dozens of miles on his bare feet. Standing on the stairs I noticed that the furniture was covered with bed sheets. I surmised that because the visitor showed up with grease and mire all over his clothes and hands, Dad had spread them over Mom’s new furniture. I stood at the bottom third of the stairs and could partly see my father, in the kitchen, slowly shuffling over to bring his guest a bowl of soup. It was quiet. My father asked a few questions. His visitor responded in only partly coherent sentences. The kitchen light seemed so strange to me. Everything seemed still, with the visitor huddled over his bowl, the twilight coming through the windows. I went back upstairs with wet eyes, and strapped on my knee pads. The next morning he struggled up the stairs and opened my door: “Mike, I think something is wrong with me. I need to go to the hospital.”
My father was a flawed human. He consistently made mistakes—though they were usually errors of not taking care of himself. But in ordinary ways he showed me how Christianity is a crutch and a cop-out if it is not anchored in relationships. The gospel cannot save us, in fact it will only frustrate us, if it does not transform our daily interaction with others—especially the marginalized and needy. My father’s life reminds me that Christianity, at root, is a test of the human imagination---that is, it is a call to envision the face of Christ in others---and to imagine ourselves into a web of humanity, to imagine our way out of our narrow, sorry, self-serving lives. The last line of my father’s pitiful poem pleads to God with these words:
"Now that I know what love is not, please God
may I just have a moment with someone who will show me what love is."
Dad found much of that love in Zion, and in his beautiful marriage. But I also believe that now that he has passed, he will find it in the bosom of God. Daddy, I have seen the face of Christ, but only because you have seen it in me first, and in so many around you.
In Christ’s name
Michael E. De Gruccio
March 2009
My father, as you all know, was a jovial, warm soul. He loved to laugh--talk over a plate of Mexican food, share his cilantro salsa, kiss and embrace friends who crossed his path. He showed affection freely and he was sincerely interested in other people. He was a natural born leader with spellbinding oratorical skills. He was an optimist, a dreamer (sometimes to a fault), a man of hope….
If I have one goal here it is to celebrate my father’s life, and in the process shed light on the supreme love of God. In celebrating Dad, I want to bring hope to those who feel hopeless. I want to help doubters see the face of God; and for those of us who have lost our moral imaginations---to learn to imagine again. I can think of no greater or more fitting tribute to my father….
But to do this, I feel I should speak plainly and tell you about a side of my father that many of you do not know. If you will stick with me for a moment, I promise that by honestly discussing my father’s life, we can begin to glimpse the miracle of God’s grace in our ordinary lives—and how God works through the weak—that is you and me—and that despite our flaws---through Christ—we can be transformed.
Just as it is for so many of us here today, my father’s early life was a great source of sorrow. Among his personal papers, and notebooks, we found a poem written by him sometime in his teenage years, with these plaintive words:
"I do not know what love is
but I do know what it is not."
I won’t read the entire poem; for now, just one more line should suffice: “[Love],” Dad wrote, “is not being told you are too little, too slow, or not pretty to look at
It is not being told that you are dumb or not to talk too loud or not talk at all.”
Whatever it was that Dad was responding to in that poem, it’s something that he trucked around with him from his childhood to his final days. I recall my dad confessing to me on more than one occasion that he wished that just once his biological father would have expressed his love for my dad; that is, Dad wished that his father would have just uttered the words “I Love You”. This isn’t to say that my father had no loving memories---or that those who raised him failed in all things, but instead that like many of us here there was a gap between what we claim the family provides us, and what we really get. Like so many of us here, he simply yearned for more love. One thing that I think particularly hurt my father was when, much later in life, when his father Vincent died (though they had developed a more meaningful relationship over the years), Dad learned that Grandpa Vince, for reasons that remain unclear, had removed his only child (that is, my father) from his (Vince’s) will.
I did not share this so you’d pity my father. He doesn’t need pity, and he wouldn’t want it either. But I thought it might cause many of you to wonder how it is that someone who seemed to be searching for love had so much of it to freely give away. For me, this is a question that gets at the real meaning of Christian discipleship. And it points to the miracle of God’s grace in the life of my father—and the miracle that awaits each of us.
Dad was something of a broken man who spent much of his time mending the lives of others. As my mother will attest, he never learned to take care of himself—to address his psychological and physical needs--- though he wore himself thin providing solace for the lonely souls around him.
From my earliest memories, I recall our house as a place of refuge for others. Nephews, step-brothers, cousins, frightened women and other wearied souls at the end of their rope, coming in and out of our home---sleeping in our extra beds, or parking on our living room couch. When my father loved he often supplemented the counseling and listening by breaking bread, including them in our family Christmas celebrations, and offering a place to rest.
Let me quote something from a letter he wrote Eileen in the mid 1990s:
“Dear…. Perhaps some of the most beautiful feelings that we have shared have been when we have reached out as a couple and given ourselves to [others]. I must admit that most of the time I am the follower and you the leader when we are doing good. I guess that not only do I garner wonderful feelings from the doing good but I also love you more for the goodness that you have always shown to those in need. I believe that doing things for others is a vital part of our philosophy of life and that it is a compliment to our choices to do those kinds of things together. I think of all the people that we have aided in some way by taking them in our home and it is only good feelings that I have for those times. Even the painful times still reward me with a feeling that we were trying to do the right things. [I won’t elaborate here, but sometimes the ghosts that haunted these individuals became psychologically taxing on my parents—ending in increased sorrow.] My feelings overall are ones of gratitude for what we have and [the ability] of sharing with others our good fortune. That is, not only in material things, but also in things of the heart. Finally when we do those things together it reinforces the fact that we are really two people that are one. Our coupleness is very important to me. I am really incomplete without you….”
As many of you know, the Pharisee, and lawyer, tempted Christ with this question:
Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
In other words, no matter how many times we follow the laws of God—if this obedience fails to move us toward love, if the rules don’t transform us into lovers of fellow humans—and through them, God---then we have become little more than slaves to the law.
In John 4—we read
'Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.
If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen? "
And this commandment have we from him, That he who loveth God love his brother also.
Americans love individualism and self-reliance. And we spend a good deal of time talking about these things in our church. And while both can be virtues—indeed we are commanded to be agents acting, not acted upon—individualism and self-reliance too often blind us to the central message of Christ, and to the ways in which each of us is dependent. We are, more than we admit, dependent beings. God designed it this way. Lest we forget, we all begin and most of us will end our livers in absolute neediness. We start life helpless and end it the same. And it is from others that we learn the story of life. As a middle-aged father, I feel like I am finally beginning to glimpse the narrative of life, now that I have seen both my father and children helplessly cared for, spoon fed, and cleaned by loving hands. Sometimes my own hands. Much more often hands that have comforted or healed me in my own hours of need. For many of us, it is from our children we learn what it is to be born, and from our parents we discover how it is we die. And it is through another soul—to whom me are married—that we learn about the gift of sexuality—the exquisite gift of the self to another. And even in our gospel family, there is no ritual, no ordinance, no sacrament that we can give to ourselves. At every point along the line-- from baptism, to healing, to temple marriage, we literally need the presence of others. From Joseph Smith’s divine revelation about temple work for the dead, we know that not only are we dependent on the living, but the living and dead are dependent on one another. When Joseph Smith first introduced temple marriage, he did not imagine couples and children living as nuclear families throughout eternity (something that we often imagine today), but instead he saw a thick web of humanity—a great chain of interlocking families welded together by Christ. Relationship is so central to the LDS gospel that even our unique conception of God points to it. Unlike most of the Christian world, we believe in and worship a Godhead made up of three distinct beings—who are separate as fingers on my hand, yet that are so profoundly, intimately united that we refer to them as being one. In a very real way, we don’t just worship God the Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost—but instead we worship their unity, their divine togetherness; that is, our God—the one we worship---is a relationship.
It was the flawed, rough-and-tumble farmboy, Joseph Smith, who introduced to the world many of these beautiful if shocking truths about our connections with one another and how through these connections we can commune with the Godhead. My father, as you might guess, was one of the first to tell me the strange and magnificent stories about Joseph Smith. But even more, it was through my father’s actions, that I came to see the ways in which God is found through loving community—through relationships. It is to a large extent through my father that I learned what Christ meant when he told us that loving God and loving one another are inseparable. And that loving our immediate family is important but must NOT stop there. As Joseph Smith put it “a man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the world, anxious to bless the whole human race.”
Actually, blessing one’s family and “ranging through the world” to bless others are not so mutually exclusive. My father spent many evenings counseling broken couples, administering to the confused and lonely. But even if I missed my father’s presence all those evenings, I learned in my marrow the meaning of Zion. I watched him as he administered to and defended the interests of single adults in the gospel, trying to change a culture in our church that makes unmarried members or the divorced feel incomplete or out of synch. Though I was just a baby, I know from stories how much he relished his years in the Spanish (Mexican-American) branch where he learned to see God in the faces of the dispossessed. I remember as a young man I witnessed how my father personally served and administered to homosexuals. During a time of HIV-paranoia and homophobia, my father worked closely—that is, he listened to, comforted, touched, hugged, and loved men dying of AIDS—who, partly through my father, tasted the sweetness of Christ’s love. And he did all of these things while playing the romantic to his wife—he was always her biggest fan—and maintaining friendships with each of his children. I don’t ever recall him prodding, coercing, or threatening me into being a certain way. Instead he listened and waited. I have many memories of him driving in his car with me, listening to my rap music on a cassette tape—trying to meet me where I was coming from. In short I witnessed how he spent much of his time with people of different backgrounds, tastes, and needs---whether in his larger community or sitting beside his son.
I want to end with two brief stories that I think give a glimpse into my father’s soul.
During my mission I worked closely with a family led by a single father named Juan. Years before, Juan’s wife died of cancer and left him with five young children. Together Juan and his wife had built their home with their own hands, and when she died soon after, she left Juan in a house haunted with daily reminders of her absence—from the stonework to the faces of his children. And Juan took to drinking. He seemed to drink the heaviest on Sundays and the times he anticipated spending with his family.
When my parents came to visit me after my mission, we attended a lively farewell fiesta in a member’s home. During the festivities my father noticed Juan’s occasional lonely expressions between the laughter. My dad asked me if I would ask Juan to come with him outside to talk. On a narrow dirty street of cinderblock homes, with music coming from the fiesta, my father spoke to Juan through me.
“Juan, I can’t help notice that you have sadness in you….?”
“Juan, are you sad?”
Juan’s eyes narrowed a bit and he silently nodded. I don’t remember if my father already knew that Juan had lost his wife, or if he learned it right there through subsequent questions, but by the end of the conversation my father knew that Juan had lost his wife and that we was missing her amid the merriment.
“Mike,” my father continued, “please tell him this…Juan, in the name of Christ, I promise that you will be with your sweet wife again.”
After I translated what my crying father had just said, Juan began sobbing too. Years later, his daughters asked me what happened outside the party that day, as every time they tried to pry it out of Juan, he would leave the room weeping.
In the summer of 2003, my father came to me one morning and asked me to take him to the hospital (and when Dad offered to go see the doctor, we knew it had to be serious). In the emergency room that day he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure; and as his friends know, since that day, he was never the same—as something inside him died and he began slipping away from us by increments. But the night before he was admitted (Mom was away with her mother at a family reunion) I was working upstairs remodeling my mom’s bathroom. Dad had been complaining of his health—weakness, dizziness, shortness of breath. He could barely make it up the stairs. As I worked on my knees, I had heard someone come to the door and knew that dad had let someone in. I remember later that evening walking down the stairs. The sunlight was almost gone and there was a dim light over the dinner table. I could see, seated at the table, a needy member of Dad’s old ward (congregation). He had showed up at the door unannounced as he occasionally did at my parents’ home and at my father’s shop downtown. He was a gentle man with a dark past and profound mental deficiencies. He was also a drifter. He slept in an auto salvage yard where he pulled engine parts in exchange for a place to sleep. [My father had once set him up in a rented house with two other struggling young men; but like many of the things my father tried to do for desperate people, this strategy only worked temporarily as the essence of poverty and mental illness challenged some of his most sincere efforts]. That evening my father’s guest had walked, as he always did, dozens of miles on his bare feet. Standing on the stairs I noticed that the furniture was covered with bed sheets. I surmised that because the visitor showed up with grease and mire all over his clothes and hands, Dad had spread them over Mom’s new furniture. I stood at the bottom third of the stairs and could partly see my father, in the kitchen, slowly shuffling over to bring his guest a bowl of soup. It was quiet. My father asked a few questions. His visitor responded in only partly coherent sentences. The kitchen light seemed so strange to me. Everything seemed still, with the visitor huddled over his bowl, the twilight coming through the windows. I went back upstairs with wet eyes, and strapped on my knee pads. The next morning he struggled up the stairs and opened my door: “Mike, I think something is wrong with me. I need to go to the hospital.”
My father was a flawed human. He consistently made mistakes—though they were usually errors of not taking care of himself. But in ordinary ways he showed me how Christianity is a crutch and a cop-out if it is not anchored in relationships. The gospel cannot save us, in fact it will only frustrate us, if it does not transform our daily interaction with others—especially the marginalized and needy. My father’s life reminds me that Christianity, at root, is a test of the human imagination---that is, it is a call to envision the face of Christ in others---and to imagine ourselves into a web of humanity, to imagine our way out of our narrow, sorry, self-serving lives. The last line of my father’s pitiful poem pleads to God with these words:
"Now that I know what love is not, please God
may I just have a moment with someone who will show me what love is."
Dad found much of that love in Zion, and in his beautiful marriage. But I also believe that now that he has passed, he will find it in the bosom of God. Daddy, I have seen the face of Christ, but only because you have seen it in me first, and in so many around you.
In Christ’s name
Michael E. De Gruccio
March 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Thank you!!
You're sweet words have brought comfort to us all, especially our Mother. I never realized how important it is to rally around those who have lost a loved one. I think most people think when someone has lost a loved one we should give them time alone . It feels so good to know others are thinking of you, praying for you and also missing your loved one also. We look forward to "Celebrating His Life" with you all this Saturday.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Memorial Services for Dad
Memorial Service for Richard Charles DeGruccio will be held on Saturday March 14, 2009 at 11:00 am at the LDS Church on Deseret Ave. in Fair Oaks, CA. (old Fair Oaks Stake Center) it will be followed with a celebration of his life~A Mexican Fiesta.
Our beloved father, passed to the next life this morning about 8:00am. Kathy and I had spent the night. Kathy slept in the same room as Dad and checked on him frequently. We could all hear him breathing and sleeping soundly all night. Kathy, Annie and Mom were checking on him and he smiled at Mom as she kissed him and told him she loved him. Just minutes later, I came into the room and immediately went to check on him. I couldn't see very well without my contacts and he looked awfully yellow. I went up to him and saw he wasn't moving and his heart was not beating out of his chest like it had the past few days. I laid my hand on his chest and felt nothing, I walked into the other room to get my sisters and mother. We all went to his side as Mom announced he had passed on. He had gone in between our visits in the room. He went peacefully and we don't think he experienced any pain. Dad was always smiling and during the past few days his smiles only came as those who loved him expressed their love for him. That was hard to watch but we were blessed that he still knew who we were up to the very end. We are all gathered together, Mike and his family arrived this afternoon. We are so grateful to spend this cherished time taking care of a man who took care of so many his whole life. It's amazing how many people's lives he touched. I never remember my Father ever saying a harsh word to me and I never doubted his love for me and for His Savior and Father in Heaven. I'm sure my siblings would say the same. We appreciate all your thoughts and prayers and look forward to celebrating our Daddy's life with you.
Our beloved father, passed to the next life this morning about 8:00am. Kathy and I had spent the night. Kathy slept in the same room as Dad and checked on him frequently. We could all hear him breathing and sleeping soundly all night. Kathy, Annie and Mom were checking on him and he smiled at Mom as she kissed him and told him she loved him. Just minutes later, I came into the room and immediately went to check on him. I couldn't see very well without my contacts and he looked awfully yellow. I went up to him and saw he wasn't moving and his heart was not beating out of his chest like it had the past few days. I laid my hand on his chest and felt nothing, I walked into the other room to get my sisters and mother. We all went to his side as Mom announced he had passed on. He had gone in between our visits in the room. He went peacefully and we don't think he experienced any pain. Dad was always smiling and during the past few days his smiles only came as those who loved him expressed their love for him. That was hard to watch but we were blessed that he still knew who we were up to the very end. We are all gathered together, Mike and his family arrived this afternoon. We are so grateful to spend this cherished time taking care of a man who took care of so many his whole life. It's amazing how many people's lives he touched. I never remember my Father ever saying a harsh word to me and I never doubted his love for me and for His Savior and Father in Heaven. I'm sure my siblings would say the same. We appreciate all your thoughts and prayers and look forward to celebrating our Daddy's life with you.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
It's time to say goodbye...
The Hospice nurse came today and Dad has a very high fever. From all of this symptoms, she informed us that he probably won't last through the weekend. We knew this was coming, but it still doesn't make it easy. He can still smile at us but has labored breathing and his body is working so hard. How greatful we are that he has created such a loving family to hold each other up during this time. We all know we have been blessed beyond measure to call him our Daddy!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Are you trying to buy a horse??
Last Friday, February 27th, Annie actually got Dad in his wheelchair and took him for a walk out in the sunshine (which we haven't seen much of lately). They went to the local neighborhood park with little Whitney. He really enjoyed it. Mom had left for Disneyland with Rick's family on Tuesday night so it was just us daughters to care for him through Saturday. On Friday night, the Skinner's went to a King's game and I came to be with Dad. I brought him Panda Express and he was pretty excited to have that and smothered it in Soy Sauce, something he has had to refrain from. He was pretty alert and still smiling, and still calling me "beautiful". He get confused of what day it is and where he is but he recognizes all of us. Annie and I got him ready for bed and then he asked for a kiss, we both kissed him and Annie kissed him on his lips and noticed his mouth was bleeding. So I flicked on the lights and started lifting up his lips to examine his gums and he said,"What are you trying to do? But a Horse?" We all laughed so hard. Not sure where he comes up with that humor but it works for me. That night he was pretty restless. The next morning he was still really restless. He had some cereal and then couldn't seem to relax. His nose was a little stuffed up so he was having an extra hard time breathing. He panicked a few times and said he couldn't breathe very well, in fact he could hardly get the words out. I called the Hospice Nurse and after she asked me some questions she told me to go ahead and give him morphine and anti-anxiety medication. Kathy came over and the two of us watched him as he tried so hard to sleep but was so restless and still seemed anxious. He ended up having two more doses and finally four hours later he fell asleep, and slept, and slept and slept. We haven't seen him sleep that soundly in sooooo long. As hard as it was, we know he needed that rest. His poor little body is so worn out. He finally woke up on Monday morning. They were able to get him in his chair and he was in and out of being alert but still pretty tired. They had to give him morphine again when they put him to bed. When I came in this morning, Tuesday March 3rd, for the first time he didn't smile at me and call me beautiful, I did eventually get a smile though. He seems really out of it and can barely talk, we aren't sure if that is the drugs or just his condition. What ever the case we are just trying to make him comfortable.
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