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Nearly half a million babies (1 in 10) are born premature in the US each year which is higher than that of most other developed nations. This is the journeys of our first born son, Finnegan, who was born 14 weeks early and weighed only 1 pound 15 ounces at birth. Of our daugher, Korrigan, who was born a healthy 7 pounds, 7 ounces at 37 weeks. And of our second son, MacKeegan, who was also born at 37 weeks at a whopping 8 pounds, 13 ounces. Our continued adventures reminds us daily how good God is.

Sunday, June 30

In loving memory

In Loving Memory of
Gregory D. Walsh
April 14, 1954 - June 25, 2013

It is such a healing gift to be surrounded by your love for my dad, my sisters and me and our families. It brings us girls all such great happiness to see how much dad affected all of you and how much he will be missed. This clearly came as a great shock, so please bear with us as the four of us are still adjusting to living in a world without a father.

Greg was known as Son. Brother. Father-in-law. Nephew. Uncle. Cousin. Business Owner. Friend. But the two names he held dearest were Dad and Grandpa Egg. He would tell anybody who would listen how much he loved his girls. Growing up, he would nap on the floor in the living room...with four small children. Yeah right! We would climb all over him and wrestle with him and play this one game...try to put your finger in his hand while he was "sleeping" without him grabbing it. I think he won every time, but that was the fun part...getting caught by him. 

Occasionally when mom would have to work late, dad would have to figure out meals (which he never actually "figured" out). This is how "garbage stew" was invented and I don't think the world is a worse place for it now becoming extinct. Basically, I think dad's thought process was, "put all leftovers from the fridge in one pot, open a can of beef stew, heat, stir and voila: dinner." Yum?

And he was ALWAYS there to fix any and everything: the toilet, the rutty driveway, the rotten garage door, the squeaky floor, the car when "somebody" crashed into a telephone pole, the OTHER car that stayed in our family for WAY too long and had something break every week, it seemed. And dad (even once we were in college and beyond) would figure it out. He loved being needed and if he showed his love through acts of service and helping others, he really truly and deeply loved us girls. It is funny how things that annoyed you, now become what you hold onto. Dad liked things quiet and orderly and when they weren't, he would let us know with a "say girls!" Oh, that irritated me so much but now, I'd give anything to hear it one last time.

Being Grandpa Egg. While many probably think being called "Grandpa Egg" is a little weird, I think he secretly thought it was the neatest thing because it made him special. After all, who else is a Grandpa Egg? It wasn't because he had a weird shaped head or anything...Austin, the first grandchild, couldn't say "Greg" and shortened it to "egg" which stuck like glue. In fact, I don't even know if my kids know dad's real name! He wasn't one of those grandpa's that took the kids fishing or threw a ball in the backyard. He preferred to sit back and took great joy in watching them have fun and run and laugh and play. When Jim and I talked to our kids about Grandpa Egg going to heaven, Finn was worried that when Finn goes to heaven, he won't know anybody there. But Jim told him that he wouldn't be alone because Grandpa Egg would be there.

We would like to thank each and every one of you for coming. The support that has been offered to us over the last three days has been amazing and a blessing. We could not have done it without the continuous presence and support of Grandma and Grandpa, Vicky, Lisa, all of dad's siblings and the funeral home. They've held our hands, answered questions, given opinions and recommendations, done things that we weren't able to do and took care of things that we may never even know they did. 

No, dad was not perfect. Who of us is? He was terrible at communicating, had questionable grooming habits (at best!), he always had a beer in one hand (usually on ice?!?!) and he rarely made an effort to keep in touch or get together. He was however, a great listener, a thinker, a handsome son-of-a-gun when he cleaned up, a hard worker, a man of integrity and more than anything, he was my Dad. For that I am ever grateful.

You will be dearly missed, dad. I love you for who you were and who you weren't. No matter your short-comings as a father, you were MY dad and I wish you were still here and able to watch your grandchildren grow up. And I wish more than anything we could have looked at you, said goodbye and given you one last kiss. But you are free now and can be happy. I will miss you forever. Please watch over us and give us a helping hand whenever you are able, just like you did in life. I love you, dad!


Anonymous said...

You have a gift for expressing your love for your dad. I know him better now through your words. YaYa

Stacy Thomas said...

Thank you, Yaya! And thank you so much for helping out with Zander. I know Kristine really appreciated it.

Anonymous said...

Stacy what a nice picture of you and your sisters.
You wrote such a nice tribute to your Dad, that's pretty much the way I remember him from when you were a little girl. A nice regular guy.

Stacy after decades of being a daughter and a parent and watching many of my friends and family become parents,I believe there is a basic truth about parenthood. Most parents love their children dearly and do the best they can to be good parents.I believe your Dad loved you all and did his best to love and take care of you. It might not have been everything you wanted or needed, but I think he truly gave all you girls his full measure of love. Take some comfort in that and enjoy your own babies to the fullest. I'm so sorry for your loss. Sue R from Pennock