Eulogy
I spent a long time thinking about what to say about my father. My family started worrying that I would never end up finishing this eulogy. But I couldn’t grasp how to describe my incredible father in only 3 minutes, and if you knew him in any way then you will know what I mean.
Dad was born in Brooklyn in June of 1952 to Mara and Michael Mahon and grew up beside his three sisters, a family he treasured dearly. Although times were hard, his childhood is best described as humble and wondrous. On his first day of school his mother explained to the teachers that he was a bit slow, due to the fact that he did not speak much. After a few days they called her to the office and with much trepidation she expected bad news. Instead, they told her that he was so smart they wanted to put him up to the next grade. He laughed every time he explained to me that he didn’t speak much because he couldn’t get a word in edge wise with his loudly boisterous Italian family. He always beamed about his very first job selling peanuts at ball games. One time as a kid he survived a deadly fall on a spiked fence, and often showed off his scar on his chin to prove it. He was only 16 years old when he graduated high school, and later became a member of MENSA, the world renowned measure of high IQ. He remembered fondly the times he spent with his father, and the great support his mother gave him throughout his life. He was very proud of both his Irish and Italian heritage and would always show the tanned outside of his arm as his Italian side from his mom and the pale white inside as his Irish side from his dad. He had a quiet manner and an Irish sense of humor, but his classic dress and hands in his pocket showed the stance of an Italian man. He had a distinguishable cough and outburst of laughter that followed him throughout his lifetime and that I’m sure you will all remember.
He led his life with hard work and determination. He always felt indebted to the College of the Holy Cross, a Jesuit college where he majored in political science. There, he formed a lifetime friendship with the incredibly kind Father Brooks, who he later introduced to my mother. He even claimed to have played chess with future Supreme Justice, Clarence Thomas, while studying in the dining hall. After graduation, he worked briefly before entering in the Peace Corps, where he served for two years in Cameroon and then became a trainer for 5 more years. West Africa always held a special place in his heart, and our house is full of its art and music. I can remember many days coming home on the school bus to Dad blasting Manu Dibango or other musicians and tapping his feet, excitedly explaining to me more stories he had remembered from his time in the Peace Corps.
Later, Dad was instrumental in the growth of many credit unions around the world, especially in impoverished areas. If someone asked him what work he did, he usually explained it by this motto: Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime. However, because he traveled so much for obscure work, many friends were convinced that he was part of the CIA, and as a joke he never denied it. Through his work, he met my English mother in 1986 for training at World Council of Credit Unions in Wisconsin. My mother laughs at the memorable time Dad took her on a date to see Les Miserables and he fell asleep when the cannons were going off. After nine months of a whirlwind romance, they married in Liverpool. They lived in Switzerland until I was born in England in 1994.
We lived as a happy family of three in the beautiful snow of Wisconsin for the first few years of my life, until we moved to Boston, our home. Here, I remember mum and dad screaming the answers to Jeopardy at the tv every night. I remember coming home every day on the school bus and seeing him through the window working at the computer and pulling faces at each other. I remember sneaking out with dad while mum was at work so we could go get pizza and ice cream, and hiding the wrappers in the recycling bin outside. I especially remember the three of us in the car on one of our many adventures, singing along to the CDs of Billy Joel, Rod Stewart, and Fleetwood Mac.
At the time of his sudden death, dad was 64 years old- but unlike most men his age who are retired and home-bound, my father never gave up exploring the world and helping those less fortunate. He traveled to over 80 countries, changing lives throughout the world. He left a lasting impact throughout credit unions, such as his creation of the Credit Union Development Education in order to educate others in how to teach impoverished countries to grow independently through credit unions.
Even though Dad traveled so much, he spent as much time with family and friends as possible. He was always organizing reunions for friends and visiting family in New York and Europe. Through life’s difficulties, he faced the world with unparalleled hope and optimism. His classic silly humor made him easily lovable, and even though sometimes I would roll my eyes at his classic Dad humor, I always remember cracking up over the dinner table as we both grew red in the face and my mother couldn’t decide whether to be concerned or laugh.
Not everyone had the luck I had, having a wonderful father. But you were all lucky in knowing him. I don’t know how I’ll live without him. But greater than the sorrow from his death is the joy that he spread in our lives. His wisdom and love will continue to guide each of us throughout our lives. Dad brought the world into our home, with his stories of his travels and the cultures among which he lived. My father will be greatly missed—both by his family and by his many friends, whom he cherished and even inspired. A great man has left us. But as he rests from his lifelong dedication of helping others, Dad should know that the world is most definitely a better place because of him.
And so, to all friends and family, I leave with these words:
Some enchanted evening, someone may be laughing
You may hear him laughing across a crowded room
And night after night, as strange as it seems
The sound of his laughter will sing in your dreams.
