In Memory of Abu Hubby

My dear husband made it back to the US just six hours before  his dear father’s departure from this life. What a generous mercy of God.

All eight siblings gathered around his hospital bed as he lay in a coma, struggling to breathe, loving him, honoring him. Saying goodbye, hoping with faith he could sense their presence and hear their last parting words. One daughter kept the night watch at his bedside, and late that night he breathed his last.

Relief his suffering is over, grief for the loss of their father.

Abu Hubby was a child of the Depression, lost his father at an early age and worked to support his mother and siblings as a teen. A railroad man, he worked for Santa Fe. He served in the Navy in WWII, but never spoke of what he saw or experienced, like many of his generation, he took his war stories with him to grave.

He and Mary fell in love and were married after his service. Their first children were twins, who died shortly after birth but whose memories were always a part of the family. A year later came my husband, then either every year or two came another until four boys and four girls filled their home with energy.

He took on another job to provide for his growing brood, and was rarely home to enjoy them. Infancy was his favorite age for kids, we have so many photos of him in a rocking chair with a diaper slung over his shoulder, a sleeping baby cuddled into his neck. His eyes would be closed, also, enjoying the warmth and closeness of that small child.

A devout Catholic, he never missed Mass in spite of his heavy work load.

Abu Hubby taught his children the value of hard work and higher education, and they all paid their own way through Catholic High School. Six of them finished college and several more went on for more. Seven married, the youngest son became a priest. He enjoyed rocking twenty grandchildren.

We will miss you dearly, Dad. We entrust you to the mercy of our heavenly Father.

Advertisement