George J. Sheehan III also known as Gj, G, Uncle, Grandpa, and Dad. He was an amazing son, brother, husband, uncle, Dad, Grandpa and friend. As many know he has struggled with Parkinson's for years. The last four years were particularly hard and how he pushed through for the last two years is amazing to me. He was a fighter and he loved us so much that he didn't want to leave. On Thurday night, June 11, he took his final breath. I hate thinking of him as he died and want to remember him as he was. So, here is the man I remember and what it was like Growing up Sheehan.
He was my Dad. He played with us. We played basketball, golf, pool, and poker to name a few. He was competitive and frankly the most athletic person I have ever known. He was gifted with a natural ability and he loved to play and had the patience to play with us when we were little. I didn't know any kids who had a basketball hoop in the back yard thereby ruining the grass. I didn't know anyone who had a cup in a hole in one corner of the yard so we could chip and putt. I didn't know anyone who had a basketball hoop attached to a beam in their living room. I also don't ever remember getting in trouble for destroying the grass, running through a fence to catch a football, or breaking the couch going for a rebound. Now I say he had the patience to play with us but let's not forget he was competitive...he had patience but also an expectation that we would work hard. We would want to win. That less than our best wasn't good enough. He pushed us to be the best we could be. I do not think I ever won any game we ever played in our family. He taught us if you wanted to win you had to be better. There was no going easy because I was the youngest or I was a girl. If I had to work harder to win that was just how it was. If I wanted to "play with the big boys" then suck it up and fight back. He did it in such a way though that it didn't defeat me. He made me want to keep fighting to win. If you don't know my Dad maybe that seems harsh but I wouldn't change it for the world. He treated me as an equal and taught me invaluable lessons.... I am capable of anything and if I want something I need to work hard. (As a funny side note: After 38 years I finally beat my brother in something athletic! Hard work pays off. Sometimes it just takes a long time! :) )
He was my Dad. He loved and protected us. No matter what we did we always knew my Dad had our back. He taught us that family was so important. As siblings, my brothers and I would fight like most kids do. Dad always taught us to have each other's backs when we turned to the world outside. Little did he know (or maybe he did) that it bonded us as siblings too. We never told on each other. I often threatened to tell but it got me nowhere as my brothers knew I never would go through with it. We had so much fun playing together why would we jeopardize that? As kids we were united and as a family we were a tight unit. Dad would help us out of any situation. Now I didn't have much need for this as I was pretty goody goody but it made me feel safe. Watching a sibling come home in the middle of the night because he got the car stuck and not get in trouble let me know that it was safe to ask for help in any situation. I remember calling my Dad in a snowstorm driving back from the mall. I was petrified. I pulled over at a restaurant to call my Dad. He grabbed a friend and drove out in the storm and drove me home. No questions asked. No berating me for going out in the storm in the first place. All he cared about was that I was safe. He also loved us all equally. I once accused him of loving my brother more. Man, was he mad! I never made that accusation again. His guttural reaction to my words was enough to get his message across.
As we grew older and moved out of the house we would come back to visit. Once we were all home my dad would lay on the couch and go to sleep. Mom would worry that we didn't think Dad cared that we were home but we all knew the truth. Dad could sleep because we were home. His kids were all safe in his house so he could finally relax. He worried. He would come up to my college on Friday nights (gone by 7pm) with the pretense of taking me to dinner and making sure I had everything but I know it was really to lay eyes on me to make sure I was safe. (Also to deliver me homemade pasta sauce because, let's be honest, jar sauce is terrible.)
As I grew older and Dad grew weaker I was again so grateful that he gave us the gift of athletics, hard work, and family unity. I wanted to make him feel safe. Return that precious gift he gave me. When he could no longer move himself I'm sure it was scary to trust someone else to do it for him. Would he be dropped by accident? I loved being able to look him in the eye and tell him "I have you Dad. I promise I will not drop you. You made me strong and now I can move you. This is what you raised so trust me now." I believe he was very comforted by that. He did trust me to move him.
On his last night we were all with him while he slept. It was his time to go and we all knew it. He will live on in us. As I raise my girls to know they are capable, that hard work is not optional, and family is always a safe place, my Dad will live on in them.
I know he is in heaven and I wonder what he is doing....racing cars with Lully, fishing, playing basketball, or golfing. I do know though that he is free of the body Parkinson's trapped him inside. I'm grateful he is no longer suffering but I miss him.
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