Good morning, everyone out there in blog land. It's been forever since I've written here. This used to be the centerpiece of where I put my thoughts and feelings, but that all kind of went by the wayside with the rollercoaster ups and downs of life getting in the way. So, as our world becomes more and more insane, I'm going to fire it up again. I know I've said this on and off over the years, and don't know if anyone actually reads blogs anymore. But either way, someday, when this pattern of subatomic particles I call me has returned to chaos, this modest footprint will remain.
The biggest change to my life is that my wife Jennifer passed away back in November of 2024. It started with an infection, and then eventually she caught COVID. Her weakened immune system couldn't handle it, even though she had had her vaccinations. The only thing I can say to all of you is that little things can turn into big things, especially where your health is concerned. So please, take care of the little things whenever you can, you all matter, both to yourselves, and someone else.
So, having said that, let’s start my return to this blog with the eulogy I read at her funeral. Jennifer Pfitzer LaRocca, 1972 – 2024. May she rest in peace, and thank you to everyone who touched her life.
Good afternoon. I look out at our family and friends, and I thank you all for being here. We are here to celebrate the life of Jennifer LaRocca, nee Pfitzer, beloved daughter of Ken and Jean, watched over by her Aunt Betty and Grandmother, Rose, wife, and devoted mother of Joseph and Amanda. I say "to celebrate," but I know many of us don't feel like celebrating right now. One of the wisest statements I ever heard came from my cousin, who is a deacon. When my grandfather passed away, long ago, my grandmother said to him, 'I'm so mad at God right now!" And he just shrugged and said, "Eh, go ahead. He's a big God - he can take it!"
And that's the pain we’re going through. We feel sadness, confusion, and even anger at our loss. But the important thing to remember - and yes, I stole this right out of Eulogies for Dummies - the important thing to remember is that it's OUR loss That's why we're sad, for ourselves, because we miss her. But we also need to remember to be happy. Because, right now, Jennifer is in a place where there are no hurts, physical or emotional, no fears, and no sickness, only happiness, peace and joy. A place where she can dance, jump, and play in a way she hadn't been able to for a long, long time.
We all see the world through our own lenses. My children are sad they can't play video games with her anymore. I tell them that she's in a place where there is no lag, where she can play RPGs we can't even imagine at infinite resolutions, with ray tracing beyond our wildest dreams. Now, some of you are looking at me, and thinking, "Why is he talking about video games?" Well, the reason is, it was one of her ways of spending time with her children. Time is the most precious thing one person can ever give another because no amount of money can buy one second back. And Jen always made time for her children. And it wasn't just playing games or laughing over videos. Whenever they were hurting, she would stop whatever she was doing, and listen. Maybe she wasn't always able to solve their problems or give them the answers they wanted, but they always came away feeling heard, loved, and most importantly, knowing they mattered. She chose to help others and taught her children to do the same.
Some say that Social Media is a blight upon the land – and they’re right! But In the past few weeks, I've received texts and emails from Jennifer’s friends around the world. And the one quality every one mentions, that also stands out in all of my memories, was her capacity for kindness. She had no meanness. We all know people who trash talk others, who say nice things to their faces and then say something mean behind their backs, to try and fit in, or make themselves look better. But Jen wasn't like that. She didn’t step on others to try and make herself more popular. She didn't have a mean bone in her body. She didn't find meanness funny either. Even in TV shows or movies, jokes that were mean-spirited or unkind always made her angry on behalf of the victim. That's the kind of person she was.
She was shy, but she was also fun. She loved to share music with her children. Music which, as Amanda reminded me when we were picking out hymns for this service, isn't exactly liturgical. She would often take Joe to concerts. You'd never catch her singing in public - but the three of them would sing together, sometimes in the car, or around the apartment. And it would always make me smile.
See, that's another reason for us to be happy. Not just for where she is now, but for the memories she gave us of the times we were lucky enough to spend with her. And more than anything, she would want that happiness for each of us.
I'll wrap this up by saying that some of you have sent Mass cards, which detail perpetual prayers for Jennifer's soul. Again, I thank you all for your love and kindness. But - and I hope I'm forgiven for my presumptuousness here - when Jennifer met Jesus a few weeks ago, I have no doubt that he saw right away that she was someone who would give food to those who were hungry, water to those who were thirsty, and if they were cold, would always give them her coat.
Again, I thank you.
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