Good Morning. My mother and my brothers and sisters and I have been listening for days to people’s love and appreciation of Al DeMatteis. It’s a great consolation, and it’s a real treat. I could’ve written this simply by stringing together everyone’s remembrances, but I’ll use one: "He was a man that could walk with the kings and eat lunch with the common laborer and treat them the same way." I love that. Because it’s absolutely true.
Al had the utmost respect for people who take their work and their life seriously, regardless of the scale of their achievements, and he paid little heed to status or title. As far as he was concerned, it was a level playing field. He played to win and if you were on his side, he’d make sure you won as well.
In trying to find a word that could possibly encapsulate the man, I think we can all agree that he was driven. It’s entirely understandable that his favorite saint was Jude, the patron saint of hopeless causes: because to Dad, there was no such thing as a hopeless cause. There was no challenge he wasn’t willing and able to handle.
You wanna build a security complex in the sands of the Arabian Peninsula? He’s your man.
You wanna build centers that teach marketable skills to disabled and disadvantaged children? Let’s get started.
You need the shirt off his back? You don’t even have to ask. To do these things and so much more, he was driven.
Driven by what? Well, there’s a question for the ages. I’m sure we each have some idea and yet will never know for sure. His ways were private, internal, and contemplative. If he didn’t speak of them openly, they were expressed through his bowed head in church, during visits to his parents’ grave, in those quiet moments just before he fell asleep.
And yet, very often his needs were simple. Something to sleep on – didn’t have to be fancy, an action movie to watch at maximum volume, some salt water from the ocean to splash on his face, a bite to eat, and lots of ice for his beer. And really, that was so lovingly, frustratingly typical of him:
He was always cold, but his beer couldn’t be cold enough.
He loved a good joke, but was incapable of telling one. I mean a good one. Seriously, he had a million of ‘em, and almost all of them made you go <groan>. Our second reading today was taken from a letter from Paul to the Thessalonians; is there anyone here who didn’t instantly imagine Al saying, "Did the Thessalonians ever write back?" <groan> If he never told you that joke, I was going to say ‘consider yourself lucky,’ but actually it’s a shame you didn’t get the chance. It was part of his charm.
And oh yes, he was charming! To a fault, for sure, but it’s certainly something that everyone picked up on and responded to, and especially children. Ask anyone in the extended DeMatteis clan; we’ve all been reminiscing about "Uncle Al, the kiddies’ pal!" And he was. Kids seemed to immediately connect with Dad and he loved it. He certainly cherished his grandchildren, and each of them has experienced his small repertoire of kiddie games. I’m sure all I have to do is this {make motion on forearm}, and you each know what I’m referring to. It kinda makes sense: he was, among other things, a baby brother, and maybe with that he never lost his child-‐like sense of play.
He was larger than life, and he looms very large in my life. He was, and is, who I see when I look in the mirror. He is the standard against which I measure myself. The older I get, the more of him I see. And I’m proud of that.
As Keith said at yesterday’s service, Dad was a role model in a lot of ways. He taught me that there are many ways to be a provider. That beneath temper lies passion. That maybe, just maybe, it’s not such a crazy idea to live overseas for a few years. But to never forget where you come from.
When Dad met Mother Teresa, it was a highlight of his life, of course -‐ as it would be for anyone – but for him particularly so. I like to think that they were somehow the same. His drive I spoke of earlier, it was more than just restlessness, more than just the need for a challenge, and it wasn’t about gain or vanity.
It was to make a difference, make an impact, to leave a mark.
His mark: the name "DeMatteis" humbly but proudly saying "I was here." His works will disappear with time, but that’s no reason not to build them.
We were looking through some of Mother Teresa’s sayings for something to put on the funeral card, and while we went with one I was also drawn to this:
"The fruit of SILENCE is Prayer
The fruit of PRAYER is Faith
The fruit of FAITH is Love
The fruit of LOVE is Service
The fruit of SERVICE is PEACE."
And so, Al…Dad:
As you lay in Silence
Thank you for your Prayers
Thank you for your Faith
Thank you for your Love
Thank you for your Service
Rest in Peace.
