This memorial website was created in memory of our loved one, Edward Sweeney (Dad, Sweens, Ed, Edward, Uncle Ed, Coach), 67, born on April 27, 1949 and passed away on January 28, 2017. Although his absence hurts and he is so dearly missed, we will be forever comforted and warmed by his spirit.
Memorial Service
Friday, Februrary 10 10:30 AM
Our Lady of Victory Parish
2 Floral Parkway
Floral Park, NY
Open House after the service
Michael and Irene Sweeney's home
4 Pinewood Dr.
Old Westbury, NY
"Death is not a period that ends the great sentence of life, but a comma that punctuates it to more lofty significance. Death is not a blind alley that leads the human race into a state of nothingness, but an open door which leads man into life eternal. Let this daring faith, this great invincible surmise, be your sustaining power during these trying days."
Martin Luther King Jr., Eulogy
Tributes
Leave a tributeLook for signs. He is with you always.
Love you so much,
Mom
Leave a Tribute
A Birthday at the Beach
Dan, Willow and I all celebrated his birthday - and the good weather - with a trip to the beach. The sun was shining. No clouds in the sky. And it was warm enough that someone even got in the water. We walked along the beach in Nahant and laughed and remembered our wedding week that we spent there. Willow loved it. She was smiling the entire time. My Dad would've loved it, too. No fishing involved, but being anywhere there was sand always made him happy. We ended up back home with Texas Roadhouse takeout and a Coors Light, both of which have become a tradition on days like this.
Even though it's been a little more than seven years since my Dad passed away, we still get reminders that he's here with us. Yesterday, thinking about him at the beach, we reminded Willow that he's watching over her every night - his picture sits above her crib. And last week on a work trip to Detroit for the NFL Draft, I met someone who played on the defensive line for him while he coached at Stevenson. His impact extended so far.
He's definitely somewhere still watching over us, somewhere with his feet in the sand and a beer in his hand. Happy birthday, Dad! Love you!
Willow Hope
We've already done a few things to help Willow know him, and remember him. The most memorable was over Thanksgiving break. The entire family, and both babies, all went to Delaware to stay at my Mom's place in Bethany Beach. On that trip, we finally got the chance to sprinkle some of my Dad's ashes along the beach - something we've been wanting to do for a long time. It was in Lewes, at the beach he used to frequent. He'd go there to chat up the locals, to assess the waves. But mostly, he'd go there to fish. Willow was there and even if she might not remember it, I will, and we have the pictures to show her someday. We left my Dad a bottle of Coors Light to keep him warm.
The past two nights, Dan and I have drank Coors Lights, eaten Texas Roadhouse, and written on this site, done all the small things that have become tradition every year on the dates of his passing and his birthday. It never gets old. Someday soon, we'll be able to do the same things and include Willow in them, and I can't wait.
New Beginnings
At our wedding last August, there were certainly moments where I wished my Dad had been there, like when I saw his sign tied to the empty seat in the front row or when the music started and we needed someone on the dance floor to get the night going. He would've had so much fun. But I feel his presence even more now because we have a baby on the way.
My Dad did so much for us when we were growing up. He worked so hard, splitting time between family and his job, the type of job that required him to be always on, all the time. I understood that even at a young age. And yet, he always found time to make us chocolate chip pancakes or take us to church or sit down to watch a game with us or drop us off at friend's houses. In the best of times, he spoiled us, played jokes on us, made us laugh and smile. Later on, living with him in Baltimore, my Dad and I became best friends, too.
Now as Dan and I get closer to the birth of our baby girl this August, I wish even more that my Dad could be around to meet her and share this moment with us. I know he is watching down over us, and I can't wait to share stories of him with our daughter as she grows up. He taught me so many lessons. I just hope I can live up to them all. Happy Father's Day, Dad!