"My father was my teacher. But most importantly he was a great dad."
REVERE/PEABODY, Mass. — He will no longer be seated at end of the couch with a newspaper in his lap and hot coffee in one hand.
He was the first family member you saw when you walked in the front door. Albert Blasi would look up from his sports section and smile when someone entered the parlor. There was usually a game or an old war movie on the TV.
“Hey, they are here. Good to see you all. Missed ya,” my dad said. “How was the ride down? Mom’s in the kitchen. Go see her.”
When I left Sunday morning to return to Maine, his reserved seat on the couch was vacant and will remain that way forever. I was still waiting for a hug and a chance to say goodbye. I walked up to the empty couch said aloud, “I will always miss you.”
My father, a dedicated educator and high school baseball coach for 44 years, died on a Saturday, Nov. 8 and was buried on the 14th at Puritan Lawn Cemetery in Peabody, Mass. He was 81. Taps was played by the honor guard. That’s when the tears began to roll down my cheeks. I watched through water-filled eyes as two fine young servicemen folded the American flag with care and precision. A sharp looking soldier walked straight toward me and presented me with the flag.
“I accept this with honor,” I said. The soldier stepped back after handing me the flag and slowly saluted it as we stared eye to eye.
My father, an Army veteran who served during the occupation of Germany, was honored for his service to his country.
He was an honorable man who believed all people should be treated with compassion and respect. That’s why hundreds turned out to pay their final respects to a man who not only served his country but made a difference in his community, classroom and on a baseball diamond.
How many people get to say that before their lives come to an end.
I spent nearly two hours at a funeral home as mourners shared their Al Blasi stories with family members who were grateful to see hundreds turn out to say goodbye to our father.
A mass honoring Albert John Blasi was held at St. Anthony’s Church. They say the church was brought over brick by brick from Italy. It is a magnificent structure with bells that can be heard all over the city and the inside of the building is lined with stained-glass windows and numerous works of art.
The funeral procession to the church and cemetery was led by a police escort as the Revere Police Department sealed off streets all over the city as a long trail of cars passed. The procession drove past my father’s home before we arrived in Peabody.
My siblings and I are now orphans with the passing of this wonderful man. My mom died four years ago, which was the first blow to her four children. Their absences have left us with a sense of endles longing for their return.
But it’s doesn’t matter how my father died. It is how he lived, and he lived life large and fulfilling. He was an educator who taught others to go forth in life and make a contribution to the greater good.
It has been said that we are not truly forgotten until the last person who knows us dies.
Considering what he has done for a multitude of people, I believe the memories of Albert John Blasi will live on for decades to come.
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