Welcome July!

This has been a difficult month, to say the least. We're trying to regain a sense of normalcy around here, but it's proven nearly impossible.

After the funeral, Molly, Shannon's 11-year old sister, came to stay with us for a week. Afterwards, we headed out to Washington DC for a week's stay (sans Molly and with my parents). I attended a Sacred Music conference while the rest of the fam saw the sights. It was a great trip, but I've spent every day since at work, trying to get ready for a Choir Alumni weekend that begins tomorrow here at St. John's. It's going to be great, but it's been a huge headache to plan. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm really looking forward to its completion. Also, as soon as we returned home, Shannon went to pick up Molly again, and she's been with us ever since. There's a good chance that this will be a long-term arrangement, which I'll blog about in the future.

Please keep us in your prayers.

We love you, Dad!

I'm not really sure how to even write this post, but I know it will help me feel better to get some things out. As you have read, my dad passed away this past Saturday. Neil was really my stepfather, but "my dad" for all practical purposes from the age of 5 on. His actual age was 56, with an upcoming birthday in October. I just found out last Sunday what the "C" in his middle initial stood for, but will not share it here out of respect for his lack of openness about it. ;)

If you never met my dad, I am sorry for you, as he was a very kind and gentle soul. Although not to be taken for a wuss by any means! He was as tough as he was soft. ;) I kind of just feel the need to share some of my favorite things about my dad and memories I will take with me. So please indulge me here. This is what I love about Neil C. Shy:

• He ALWAYS got up from his seat to lovingly welcome you into his home with a hug! Not many people today care or value the importance of such a small gesture. It's one of those things that is becoming a "lost art", like pulling out chairs for ladies and sending handwritten thank-you notes. I think I can count on one hand the times he did not rise to greet me and those were all due to pain from his horrible back.
• Consistent breakfasts of toast with butter, apple juice and eggs (if we had time) before school. There were many, many rough years in my family when my mom was not always around. Despite the fact that he was "only my stepfather", I was always taken care of physically and emotionally. Not once did I feel unsafe or unloved. He got us up, off to school and still got to work to make ends meet. Since becoming a parent, I have learned what an absolute miracle it is to parent alone. He did so without batting an eye.
• Catching up over a cup of hot coffee on visits home from college and beyond. If coffee wasn't already made, he'd whip up a fresh pot just for me...even if I only ended up drinking one cup. There's really nothing like coffee prepared by someone else. Maybe it's just the time and thought involved in it. This is also when my addiction to flavored creamer began. ;)
• The way he looked at me on my wedding day! If you could see pride physically manifested, it was all over his face that beautiful spring day. He was so very happy for me (and told me countless times), truly sharing in my own joy of that special occasion. When we danced together, his arms were so lovingly embracing me that I knew how blessed I was to have him as a father.
• "Ookeey, fine." This was a pet phrase that would have to be executed with precise intonation for full effect. It was not snippy nor curt, only meant to convey that the request or task would be completed and he was on the same page. It was his way of saying alright.
• His unbelievably HUGE heart and loving/forgiving 7 X 77 times! You don't all need details into the sordid history and current affairs of my family, but suffice it to say that this man endured far more than the great majority of people I know would have in similar circumstances. At times, I really wondered if it was love or sheer stupidity. I know now it was always the former.
• "He's a saint as far as I'm concerned." This is the phrase I have heard most often about my dad, which goes along with my bullet above. Now while I may not go so far to request canonization, I think this statement says a lot about who he was, especially in his last few years here on earth.
• The moments when he actually cried in front of me. Growing up in American society, many boys are led to believe (and some directly taught) that they should not cry openly. Crying is considered feminine or a sign of weakness. My dad had many moments when he cried in front of me. He wouldn't necessarily cry for long and often he would apologize for crying (which is silly), but I always appreciated the fact that he felt okay crying in front of me. It showed me volumes about what a man really is, someone who can be big and strong but also weak and vulnerable.
• Heineken, Chicago sports and his recliner. These are the things that he enjoyed the most in life, other than his family and friends. I am soooooooo glad the Chicago White Sox took a World Series in his lifetime! He was very pumped about them that summer and I'm happy he was able to relish in their victory.
• The multiple times he told me how happy he was for me. I cannot tell you how many times he verbalized his shared joy for my life in the past few years! When I met and fell in love with Heath, when I graduated from U of I, when I got married, when I received my Master's degree, when we had children, when we moved to Champaign....he knew how important all of these life events were to me and he knew my happiness was found in their fulfillment. I was blessed to have someone who thoroughly and energetically supported my decisions and celebrated all my accomplishments with me. Thank you for that, Dad. It means the world to me.

I could go on, but these are some of the highlights that will stay in my heart forever. I am eternally grateful that I was able to have a "dad" in my life after all! One who was protective and loved to a fault, one who wasn't very good with money but was great with his family, one who died far too young but had the stress of lightyears beyond his worldly age. You will be dearly missed, Dad. I pray someday we will meet again and you can get out of your seat to welcome me home one more time.

Neil Shy R.I.P

Many of you have already heard that Shannon lost her stepfather, Neil Shy, to a heart attack last weekend. He was too young, 58, I believe, and it was quite unexpected. Neil wasn't the healthiest man, but he had no diagnosed heart problems as far as I know.

Neil had a hard life, especially the last few years. He served in Vietnam, went through a divorce, and his second marriage was very trying as well, as his wife has many personal issues. He was basically the only parental figure in the house throughout the lives of most of his children. He was a tough south-sider who loved his Heineken and his White Sox.

Neil was always very good to me. He welcomed me into the family from day one, never too "manly" to tell me he loved me. Neil was always supportive of my relationship with Shannon and always made it very clear that he was very happy for the both of us.

He was a very generous and loving man. Though I didn't always condone some of his interactions his family, nonetheless, I could never question his motives. He was the prototype of a man who loved to a fault, and I think it was ultimately the cause of his demise.

It's been a very hard week for my wife and for her siblings. Neil always treated Shannon as one of his own, though he was under no obligation to do just that. He was the only father she ever knew and she loved him dearly. His presence will be missed by all . . .

I would ask for your prayers for his soul, and the family he left behind, especially his 11-year-old daughter Molly, who is unsure of where she'll be living as of next week, and with whom.


In paradisum, deducant te angeli . . .