RIP John "Jack" O'Neill
I just got the call from my brother. My grandfather finally passed away this morning. Given the condition he was in these past few days, it is a mercy.
He was born in 1919 to Irish immigrants, with ten brothers and sisters. His father died when he was 10, leaving the family alone during the great depression. He was a hard worker, industrious, and bought the family farm from his mother in his early twenties. He married in his early twenties, and had four daughters over the years. The second daughter was my mother.
Growing up, I remember a man who was firm, hardworking, but always had a kind smile and a laugh for us kids, a man with a good heart and a huge farm. I remember riding on his tractor, tromping through the woods behind his house, and seeing that mischievous twinkle in his eye as he pulled some prank on my grandmother - he was always imbued with the trickster spirit, right up until the end when he'd pretend he had his hearing aid turned off as grandma would ask him something. In spirit, I'd say he had a lot in common with Dad from "Calvin and Hobbes" - always telling tall stories to us grandkids and passing them off as truth. Up until last month, he and my grandmother would go dancing at least twice a week - maybe he couldn't move like he used to, but he still tried, and that is something which I will insist upon in my future relationships.
Every Thanksgiving, there would be a huge family get-together. Like all large families, such get-togethers would be barely restrained chaos, but he'd just sit there at the table soaking up all the love that would come through it, and we never begrudged him his moment of patriarchy. Well, I think my mom did slightly, but she's something of a rebel in that way.
He had a very serious side, as well. Politically, we never saw eye to eye, but he never disrespected me for disagreeing with him as long as I was able to back up my ideas with solid facts and well-reasoned argument. He taught me much about respect and understanding the views of others.
He is survived by his wife of sixty-odd years, his older sister, his four granddaughters, nine grandchildren and four great grandchildren.
Goodbye, grandpa - they broke the mold when they made you.
He was born in 1919 to Irish immigrants, with ten brothers and sisters. His father died when he was 10, leaving the family alone during the great depression. He was a hard worker, industrious, and bought the family farm from his mother in his early twenties. He married in his early twenties, and had four daughters over the years. The second daughter was my mother.
Growing up, I remember a man who was firm, hardworking, but always had a kind smile and a laugh for us kids, a man with a good heart and a huge farm. I remember riding on his tractor, tromping through the woods behind his house, and seeing that mischievous twinkle in his eye as he pulled some prank on my grandmother - he was always imbued with the trickster spirit, right up until the end when he'd pretend he had his hearing aid turned off as grandma would ask him something. In spirit, I'd say he had a lot in common with Dad from "Calvin and Hobbes" - always telling tall stories to us grandkids and passing them off as truth. Up until last month, he and my grandmother would go dancing at least twice a week - maybe he couldn't move like he used to, but he still tried, and that is something which I will insist upon in my future relationships.
Every Thanksgiving, there would be a huge family get-together. Like all large families, such get-togethers would be barely restrained chaos, but he'd just sit there at the table soaking up all the love that would come through it, and we never begrudged him his moment of patriarchy. Well, I think my mom did slightly, but she's something of a rebel in that way.
He had a very serious side, as well. Politically, we never saw eye to eye, but he never disrespected me for disagreeing with him as long as I was able to back up my ideas with solid facts and well-reasoned argument. He taught me much about respect and understanding the views of others.
He is survived by his wife of sixty-odd years, his older sister, his four granddaughters, nine grandchildren and four great grandchildren.
Goodbye, grandpa - they broke the mold when they made you.