Eulogy for our Grampa

Six wonderful children, 13 unique grandchildren, and 14 precious great-grandchildren. We come here today to celebrate the life of the patriarch of our family, the unforgettable Gerald Paul Casey. Together with my cousins, we have created this tribute to our Grampy.
As the youngest child of Irish immigrants, Grampy grew up with his eight siblings in Worcester, MA. In keeping with family tradition, he found his Irish bride, Muriel Foley, and was wed on May 31, 1941. It wasn’t long after that he was called to serve his country in WWII. When the war was finally over, Grampy came back to serve his family.
Grampy was an amazing husband. No matter how many times a day Grammy hollered “Jeddd” he’d be right by her side. From chauffeuring her around town to purchasing her Chiklets in bulk, Grampy never lost patience for his loving wife, and mother of his children. When there was finally an empty nest, Grammy and the kids started whispering about getting a dog. And it happened, Grammy got a little poodle, Whisper Willy. Though he would never admit it, Grampy kept Whisper in line with some swift “loving” kicks.
He was a die hard Notre Dame fan, and went to every football game he could. If he wasn’t there he was glued to the TV watching the games faithfully. If he couldn’t watch it, he was taping it. If there wasn’t a game on then he was enthralled in the words of the Blue and Gold. He just loved Notre Dame football.
With the dawning of a new generation, we made sure to visit with our grandparents. No week could begin without gathering at Grammy and Grampy’s for bagels and donuts. Over the course of several hours, the adults would exchange stories about the week’s events, while we would entertain ourselves with various activities including performing as a Billy Joel cover band, playing White Fang- our own version of house and joining the numerous Alyssa led clubs on the stairs as long as we didn’t forget to pay her our dues.
But no Sunday was complete until we had formed a single file line in front of Grampy to play “The Game.” We’d shove. We’d push. We’d pinch. We’d fight for our spot in line. Only to have him solve the conflict with a simple youngest to oldest rule. He’d take his bag of pretzel fishies behind his back, put a fishie in one of his hands and hold out his closed fists for us to choose the right one. Poor Danny always got a slap in the face when he got it wrong while the rest of us girls would get the “I got your nose!” After the game, whether we won or lost, there was always a prize. Either a box of cracker jacks or a box of animal crackers. It’s remarkable that such a simple game led by Grampy was such a significant part of our week and childhood.
Years later, Grampy was our personal tour guide when we took our trip to Ireland. We enjoyed our time traveling along the eastern and southern coasts of Ireland. We even had the opportunity to see the home of his parents, our great-grandparents, in Lismore of County Waterford.
We all shared our personal memories with Grampy. Whether it be when he bought fish and chips for dinner, cracked our knuckles till we would yell so loud that Grammy would reprimand him in the background, or when he’d scrutinize our report cards and then reach for his wallet. Grampy enjoyed hearing about Tricia’s St.Joe basketball games and then raving about her. Grampy even came to the rescue when John and Shawn decided to venture out into the real world and essentially run away with saltines in their packs. Jay and Daniel caught Grampy on his own adventure, which they are able to prove on video. They drove behind him at a good distance to stay hidden from his view, and followed him through the streets of Dalton. They zoomed in on his every move. With his cap on and his hands at ten and two Grampy was sure to stay a steady 5mph under the speed limit. And if it weren’t for the cards he received from Karen for all possible occasions, Grampy wouldn’t have had any mail to enjoy.
Somehow Grampy always had his trusty “little birdy” who kept him in check with all that we were up to. This little birdy even woke him up at 11 o’clock on a friday night after he’d probably already been in bed for three hours to break up a party I had decided to throw at my brand new house. I thought Grampy would never speak to me again, but when I called the next day to apologize, he simply said, “Just don’t let your mother find out.”
Two summers ago, Grampy had the opportunity to visit the newly opened WWII Memorial. Those that were there will never forget the look of pride in his eyes as he looked over the memorial to the war he himself had fought in. By far the oldest soldier there, Grampy exchanged war stories with his fellow vets. And staying true to his country, and ever head strong Grampy stuck to the Atlantic side of the memorial keeping his distance from the Pacific side.
Most recently in the past several years, Grampy enjoyed his companionship with Carolyn. He cherished their rides, dinners, movie times and conversation.
Grampy was a man of few words but always got his point across. He was a creature of habit and day in and day out Grampy never strayed from his routine. Never once would he be late for an event. He was the first to arrive, first to offer his compliments to the chef, and first to get up from the table while saying, “Well, I hate to eat and leave.”
I’m glad I had the opportunity to share some of our fondest memories with you all. Grampy will always have a special place in our hearts and minds, as I’m sure he will in yours. It’s only appropriate to now share with you some of Grampy’s favorite sayings that he used no matter what time of year or day…
Happy 4th of July!
Merry Christmas!
Sweaty hot, not freezing cold!
Beans on toast and chicken under glass!
And of course, Stay out of the hot sun…