Every summer, from the fifth to ninth grade, I hung out with my Uncle Tim in New Jersey. Tim Feeney, as Mom and Dad called him, came by boat from County Galway, Ireland, to New York’s Ellis Island, during The Great Depression.
Uncle Tim settled down in New Jersey, where he met a gal named Catherine at a dance, fell hard and married her. She was one of Dad’s four sisters. Uncle Tim and Aunt Catherine eventually became my godparents.
In 1974, Aunt Catherine suffered a fatal heart attack. Two years later, my parents decided to let one of us 10 kids keep Uncle Tim company during the summer. I won that jackpot of a lifetime, and over five summers was gifted a new best friend.
We were all so close to our affable Uncle Tim that in the summer of 1982 “The Irishman” moved to Cleveland to live with us. He and I shared a room. Uncle Tim quickly became a second dad to all 10 of us and a surrogate grandfather to our nieces and nephews.
But 10 years after my first summer in New Jersey, cancer robbed us of Uncle Tim. Unable to find the strength or faith to say goodbye to Uncle Tim, I tried to escape by joining the U.S. Navy. I quickly learned there’s no geographical cure for cancer’s sting.
Twenty years after Uncle Tim’s passing, however, I discovered a partial cure to the heartache cancer causes. It’s nowhere near a Navy escape hatch. It lies deep within our hearts and souls: Cancer calls each of us to pray and serve more, which ultimately results in countless lives better lived.
The many fruits of prayer and service were revealed as I tried to help Adam Gaspar, my “big buddy” from the first grade, along his cancer journey. In just one example, Cleveland’s close-knit community delivered the Gaspar family a home makeover more moving than any TV show. Thanks to several assists from upstairs, hundreds volunteered and donated more than $100,000 worth of labor and materials — most from people who lost loved ones to cancer.
On Sept. 30, 2008, at age 42, Adam lost his 10-month battle with brain cancer. He left behind a wife and six children. But he also left behind an army of loved ones united in their commitment to raise awareness and funds to find a cure to cancer.
During the past two years, three more people I love were diagnosed with cancer. My kid sister’s husband and a close friend both bravely battled tongue-and-throat cancer. Meanwhile, my mother-in-law, Bonnie McNamara, continues to embody grace under pressure as she accepts the mounting challenges of stage 4 ovarian cancer.
Our kids are on a first-name basis with my mother-in-law. They call her Bonnie. I call her Mom. Either way, she’s a saint. For starters, 17 years ago, she not only agreed to let us move next door, she encouraged it!
We’ve been blessed to share three, week-long vacations with Bonnie. At the end of each unforgettable adventure, everyone always agreed Bonnie would be the last one they’d vote off Vacation Island. I believe this writer would be the first voted off.
I’m praying overtime now for acceptance, strength and peace for Bonnie, her husband “Pop” (my third dad) and their two deeply caring and loving children, Bridgid and Mickey. Tackling this “United in Hope” cover-story package is my heartfelt service salute to Bonnie — a second mom to me, my sister-in-law, Stephanie, and “Bonnie’s Rising Stars”: Molly, Daniel, Mickey, Jamie and Meg.
Love is eternal
Several North Coast Media (NCM) staffers have lost loved ones to cancer. Steve Galperin, NCM’s vice president of finance and operations, lost his father, Paul, in August 2013 to melanoma and brain cancer. Pictured with Papa Galperin are sons Michael and Steve (far right), and Paul’s first grandson, Derek. “Dad was a kind, smart, hard-working guy,” Steve Galperin says. “But above all else, he was a true gentleman, something I strive to be every day.”
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