I cannot listen to a Red Sox game on the radio without being brought back to the countless nights we'd sit on their front porch (me, Gram and Usher Dupey) listening to the game.
Difficult crossword puzzle? No problem. He'd solve it. National Enquirer? No problem. He'd read it.
"Patience" was not his middle name. It was surely a running joke in our family. He was small in stature, didn't say much, but you always knew EXACTLY what he was thinking. He'd roll his eyes, mutter under his breathe (usually "Jesus Christ") or just walk away.
He worked at Ficco's Bowladrome (what we always called "The Alleys") for years. When my dad first started dating my mom, they were teenagers. (Some apples don't fall very far from the tree apparently...) As my dad tells the story, at one point, he said to my mom, "Your father is the guy who works behind the counter at the Alleys??!!" I'm pretty sure there was panic in his voice. I bet my dad had given my Usher Dupey some headaches over the years. Suffice to say, my dad was a bit of a Dennis the Menace-type. Regardless of what may have been a rocky beginning, years later, my dad and Usher Dupey were BEST buds.
When my parents built their house in 1977, my Usher Dupey wallpapered many of the rooms. (Ahh, gotta love the '70's.) I was only five, but I remember him standing on a plank balancing over their steps, whistling "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles". I was so impressed by his balancing act. In my young eyes, he may as well have been balancing over the Empire State Builiding. Come to think of it, I am known around these parts as someone who whistles - a lot. I wouldn't say my Usher Dupey whistled as much as I do, but perhaps I got my whistling bug from him.
My dad and my Usher Dupey walked me down the aisle at our wedding. No one knew that we had asked him except G, me and my dad. He loved having a little secret that no one else knew. As much as I love watching every minute of our wedding video, I have to say that seeing the look on his face as he walked down the aisle with us is one of my favs. When the doors to the church opened and we walked down the aisle, I don't know who was prouder - me, my dad, or my Usher Dupey. Well, I guess I do know. He's the starring subject of this blog.
He and my gram didn't have much, but they didn't need or want much. When I was in eighth grade, my parents, my Auntie Maffie, my Gram, my Auntie Ellie and my Usher Dupey visited family in Italy. While there, Usher Dupey bought a pair of great Italian shoes. I don't recall if they were super nice or expensive but every time he wore them, to me, he had a little extra spring in his step.
He was proud of his church, St. Mary Church. He donated years’ worth of hours doing countless things – serving on the Knights of Columbus, chairing the sausage, pepper and onion booth at St. Rocco’s Festival, among much more. But what I remember most about him with regard to church was his ushering. Every single Sunday 9:00 (or 9:15 mass), he’d usher. He’d seat people if they needed seats (and would surely be annoyed if they arrived late) and he’d collect money in the basket. Every time he walked by me, as he passed the basket across the pews, he’d bonk me on the head with his basket. Every time. Even when I was an adult.
For as many times as I told him that I loved him, for the first (probably) 25 years of my life, he never said "I love you" back. To anyone. Whenever, we'd talk on the phone, I'd say "I love you" and he'd say "Yup, 'bye 'bye" and we'd hang up. I don't know why, for the last five years or so of his life, he started saying "I love you too". I never asked why he suddently started saying it back to me. And I NEVER, for one MOMENT, questioned his unconditional love for me. Always.
He loved working in his shed. He’d cut out all sorts of wooden decorative things, cutting boards, etc. Then he’d paint them and when he was no longer able to paint them, he’d ask my mom to do it for him. When his hands weren’t steady any more (and when he probably shouldn’t have been handling saws…) he would color pictures and then glue popsicle sticks around the edges for a frame. I still have some of his creations. And I will treasure them forever.
He was very good with numbers. I can still hear him spouting out a bunch of figures, none of which seemed to make any sense to me, but that would result in the correct answer for whatever he was trying to solve. I thought he was brilliant.
In his mind, if you weren’t at least fifteen minutes early, you were late. Plain and simple.
My Usher Dupey passed away on September 7, 2001 and his funeral was on September 10. The following day, our lives changed forever as the horrible events of 9/11 unfolded. I am surely not comparing my Usher Dupey’s passing to 9/11. However, just as everyone’s lives changed on that day, across the globe, so did mine. We just said good-bye to my champion. He was, for sure, my biggest supporter and my biggest fan. I will never know love as I knew from him. I miss him every day. But I know that he is my Best Angel, as H and M refer to him. And this brings me comfort.
Your grandfather was a super person. How cool was that to have both your grandfather & Crow walk you down the aisle! This was great post, thanks for sharing.
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