So sweet

We had open house last week at the kids' school. And this is what was waiting for me on Julia's desk...


You know what I love? Not only are we holding hands in the picture...but she drew me skinner than her!!! : )

The Crane Kick

This is what Gianna did as she played goalie at her last soccer game...

with this face...

And this was the same face she was making at a little girl at gymnastics the other day and scared the heck out of her.

I'm going to have to start using sign language at gymnastics or the park or whenever she is getting in little ones faces, just as a reminder.

This means "stop"...

or how about this one...What am I going to do with her.

Winn-Dixie

I think I'm in love with Nicholas' 3rd grade teacher...and I haven't even met her yet. Why? Because she's helped him fall in love with reading again. She reminds me a lot of his 1st grade teacher. (And we can just forget about his 2nd grade teacher.) So 3rd grade is off to a fantastic start!

His teacher is reading this book to his class in school...

I've heard of the book but never actually read it. After days and days of listening to Nicholas asking me to take him to the library, we finally got a copy of the book last night. He just loves it. This morning over breakfast Nicholas and I started reading it together from the beginning. I know why he loves it now. I couldn't wait to read more with him tonight at bedtime.

If you don't know the story, it's about a 10-year-old girl who lives with her father who is a preacher. She finds a stray dog and decides to bring him home with her to the trailer park where they live. She names the dog Winn-Dixie after the grocery store where she found him. We got to the part of the story that explains how her mother left home when she was just a little girl. Because she never knew her mom she asks her dad to tell her ten things about her. As I was reading this part, I felt Nicholas looking at my face very intently and he very gently played with my hair and touched my face. When we were finished reading for the night, I said to him how much I loved the book...and I really, really do. He looked at me and said, "Me too. I just wish Papa was here to read it with us." And then he said, "Let's pray for Papa."

And that's what makes our boy so special. He gets it. He really, really does.

Apple Picking

So this morning we were headed out to go apple picking to the same place we go to every year, when Danny thought to himself...hmmm...I better call to check on the hours. When he called, they told him they had no more apples to be picked! Can you believe it? So we found another place...

and it was wonderful...

so many apples...

Just look at them all...

The kids loved munching on them as we picked...

No...she's not mad...she's just making one of her "faces" and I happened to catch it on camera...

Just look at the size of the apples!!!

Crazy big...

You have to wonder what they put in the fertilizer??? Well, maybe we won't think about that...

Rows and rows and rows of apple trees...

And then we moved on to the treats...

They had apple donuts...oh my...they were delicious!

And Gianna wanted cotton candy...

And Danny wanted the popcorn...popped fresh right there in this huge kettle...

We had a great day...although sadness was still in the air for me as I miss my Dad. How he loved apple pie. I used to make him my lazy man's apple pie with extra, extra cinnamon, just the way his Mom used to make it for him. I came home and went right up to bed to stare at the TV for 3 hours. I just couldn't move. I just miss him. So, so much.
I love you, Dad.

Cousins

Not a day I really want to remember, although it was a beautiful tribute to my wonderful Dad. The kids looked so nice.

Oh Pops, I know you are so proud of them. What a legacy you have left behind. How I wish you could have stayed with us just a little bit longer...

Soccer

Gianna started soccer yesterday. It was her very first time playing. She loved it...at first anyway. They did some warm ups and then had a practice "game" against some other little ones. Gianna took off with the ball once and scored a goal! But then after that she kind of backed off. Not sure why. We'll see how she does tomorrow night at her second game.

Doesn't she look cute?


Number 4...

She looks like a natural...

This video was after she scored a goal. She shied away from the ball and was...dancing???

and Life goes on...

I often think in moments of grief and despair how strange it is that life goes on. The hustle and bustle of life continues even when you feel your life is standing still.

Kids are so resilient. They can be sad one moment, grieving for their much loved Papa, and then laughing and playing the next. Life goes on for them, as it should.

And so yesterday was the first day of school. And what a morning it was. The craziest thunder and lightening storm came over us just minutes before they were to board the school bus. Lighting was striking all around us and the thunder was deafening.

Julia's backpack is bigger than her...and I thought it was going to be too small. This was just seconds before the storm hit...one flash of lightening and we took off running for the garage!

But later that afternoon it was Gianna's turn to go to school...FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN.

and the sun was shining just for her...


She got to ride the bus for the very first time and she wasn't nervous at all!

I followed the bus to school to watch her go in.


Since today was a beautiful sunny morning, I decided I would take those "first day of school" pictures again.

Nicholas is off to 3rd grade...


and Julia off to 2nd...

They all came home happy and exhausted. Let's hope it's a great school year.

Dad's Eulogy

Written and read by my sister, Kim.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

In recent days when Nancy and the four of us were at Dad’s bedside, we talked about what defined him as a person. We agreed that Richard - Dick, Dickie, Schwartz, Dad, Papa, Pops – was first and foremost a peacemaker. He was kind and non-judgmental; he understood that people aren’t perfect, so he was accepting of everyone. He was a man that had a deep understanding of the bonds of family love, the power of forgiveness, and how this love should prevail through all things.

There was nothing more important to him than the love of his wife, children and stepchildren, grandchildren, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, and lifelong friends. Not only did he love all of us profoundly, but he wanted nothing more than for us to always love and to be loyal to one another.

Dad was defined by love. His greatest love was his wife, Nancy: she was the light in his eyes, his inspiration, his absolute devotion. One day just a few weeks ago, Nancy was putting on Dad’s socks and tying his shoes – this was something he could no longer do for himself, and of course he hated feeling like a burden. After struggling with the socks, Nancy lifted his foot up to her knee and began to tie his shoe. At that moment he asked her tenderly, “Will you marry me?” And, without hesitation, she said, “Yes, I would do it all over again”. How fortunate my father was to find the love of his life: he cherished every moment of their 22 years of marriage.

I would like to pause briefly here for Dad’s four children to say thank you to Nancy, who took such wonderful, perfect care of our father to his very last moment.

Dad was also defined by his generosity. He was a man of few words, a man who expressed himself through his actions. Cousin Scotty Upton told us that when he was a young man, moving to Florida to start his life, he walked in to Dad’s office to clear up a bit of business and to say goodbye. When they shook hands, Dad clasped his two hands warmly around Scotty’s, slipping a neatly folded check for $100 into his palm. Haven’t we all had one of those handshakes from Dad at a critical moment in our lives?

In his business, he never allowed one of his customers to have a policy cancelled if he knew that they were struggling. Without a word, he just covered it.

Dini tells the story of a summer break from college, when she talked to a friend from out of state every day and accrued some lofty long-distance telephone bills. Dini was working a summer job, so she took the time each month to highlight her calls on the phone bill, clip the money to it, and present it to Dad. But on the day she was leaving to go back to school, Dad handed all of the money back to her, including each crinkled dollar bill and every last bit of change, untouched. Haven’t we all, at one time or another, received this kind of loving gesture from Dad?

He wanted all four of his children to go to college, but when his oldest daughter Kerry told him that she wanted to start her own dance studio, he had one built for her. Haven’t we all had a time when Dad’s generosity helped us to make our dreams come true?

Dad was defined by his strength and his courage. He never, ever complained. In the last few years, when he endured the painful failing of his health, he never spoke a word of it, but continued on with his life - going to the office, visiting us for dinner, taking little trips with Nancy, going to the BC football games – rarely missing a beat. We will never forget the summer day, just a year ago, that he insisted on playing whiffle ball with Nicholas, Julia, and Gianna. Nancy reprimanded him from the porch, “Schwartz, be careful!”, but he hit the ball anyway and somehow made his way around those bases. The kids were elated. Haven’t we all complained of some small ailment, only to stop when we remembered how Dad courageously managed his pain?

Dad was defined by his loyalty. When he loved you, he was fully committed. He faithfully attended hundreds of dance recitals, concerts, band competitions, hockey, softball, and baseball games – first for his own children, and then he started all over again with his grandchildren. He sat proudly by my side at my doctoral dissertation defense, never knowing the strength and confidence his mere presence gave to me. And his loyalty was true and for always, even when it came to his precious dog, Bailey, who died some years ago. When Nancy and Dad sold their house to move to the condo, Dad removed Bailey’s remains from the garden to replant them in mine, because he wouldn’t leave Bailey behind.

With his loyalty and commitment, he always made sure that we felt safe. When we were young, he waited patiently after late night events to make sure that we were transported safely home. All of our lives he would drive any distance to pick us up, he would travel any distance to visit us if we were away. He always gave us the most detailed driving directions – beginning right in our driveways – to make sure that we never got lost. We laughed the other night about the time recently that Dad was at the Baptist Hospital on the steep Parker Hill Avenue. He kept insisting we didn’t come to visit him, saying, “You’ll never get up that hill” (mind you, we were all in our 40’s and had plenty of driving experience). And we kept saying, “Dad, we are coming and we will get safely up the hill; please don’t worry”. When we arrived, he woke from surgery, and his first words to Nancy were, “Did the kids make it up the hill alright?”

And our safety was always more important than any material thing. When Ricky was 17 and had not just one, but two car accidents in one day, Dad never made him feel badly, he simply walked out to assess the damage and said, “It can be fixed”. Haven’t we all had this moment when we were fearful of making him angry, only to hear his comforting voice put it all in perspective?

Dad was defined by his intelligence, his wisdom, and his Faith. He shared with us his love of books and history, and he shared with us the wisdom of his life experiences. He set the foundation for our faith in God: not by his words, necessarily, but by his example as a practicing Catholic and his actions as a very good man.

Finally, Dad was defined by the things that made him happy and proud: he was so proud of his business of 50 years, and of Danny, in whom he has entrusted his life’s work, his education at Boston College, the talents and accomplishments of all four of his children. The things that made him happy were traveling with Nancy, his evening cigar, the Red Sox & Patriots, BC Football tailgates and games, his sweet dog Bailey, his garden, the sound of music, a newspaper, Newsweek, or a book to read, and his grandchildren on his lap.

In the end, Dad was truly defined by his heart of gold. There is a beautiful line from Les Miserables that says “To love another person is to see the face of God”. And how we have all loved him – husband, brother, father, grandfather, uncle, mentor, friend – and it is in this love that we are able to capture a glimpse of the face of our God.

In the second reading today, we state our resolute faith that nothing will separate us from the love of Christ. We also know – because of the purity of God’s love – that nothing, including death, will ever separate us from the infinite love we have all shared with Richard J. Smith.

I'll miss you

March 18, 1933 - August 31, 2010

Dear Dad, I love you and miss you so much already. It hurts so much. You were everything to me. I will miss our evening phone calls. I will miss your advice. I will miss everything about you. The sadness is so overwhelming at times. I don't know how we will go on without you but we will find a way. I'm so relieved you are no longer struggling. It hurt me so much to know you weren't feeling well. I hated how your feet hurt, how your hips and joints hurt, how you needed that dreaded cane and walker, how your skin bruised, how your back hurt, how the medication affected your memory, and how tired you were. I hated how this disease took years from you...and from us. I know how much you didn't want to leave...but you had to. We will all be together again. That much I know for sure. Thank you for being the best Dad ever. Thank you for loving me so much. Thank you for being such a good Papa. Thank you for being such a wonderful mentor to Danny. I love you with all my heart and soul and will miss you all the days of my life. Dini