At the wake, a binder full of tributes that Grandpa’s children and grandchildren wrote for his 80th birthday was among the photos and personal effects present. Curious, I perused what I wrote. Turns out, my note was eerily reminiscent of the rough draft blog I intended to post. Strange how the brain operates.
Also, I should add that I found inspiration from my uncle’s wonderful eulogy and my father’s lovely toast at the reception.
As an homage to my grandfather, I would like to tell you a story. He loved telling lawyer war stories. A story involving lawyers and judges and courthouse personalities and peculiar cases. The tale would be a very long story. One that goes on and on. And on. A story that would seemingly have no end in sight (for those not sure by my sarcasm, I write this with absolute affection) until - thankfully - my grandmother would interrupt and gently guide her husband to sit down and tell her how beautiful she looked that night.
But bittersweet for me and anyone who knew them, both Grandma and Grandpa Kirk are in the midst of a long awaited reunion in the cosmos. So you will have to settle out of court (sorry I couldn’t resist) for my own version of a love story. Or perhaps better stated as a love letter.
It was certain to me as a child, beyond any reasonable doubt, that my grandfather was an extremely important person. The evidence was clear based on the volume of mail that he received on a daily basis. Piles upon piles. It was as if he received a tangible piece of paper mail for every message that any one of us receives on any given day in our spam folders.
From a corner in the dining room, I watched in awe as Grandpa methodically opened piles of envelopes while seated at the head of his table. He deftly sliced and diced envelopes with his letter opener, like a master craftsman whittling a sculpture, then squinted through his glasses to skim through a myriad of correspondence. I don’t know if my memory is incorrect, but I like to believe that a WNEW broadcast, Sinatra, or Irish folk tunes would be playing in the background.
One of the counselor’s favorite pieces of mail back in the day were his sweepstakes applications. I don’t know the details but he somehow won a maroon Cadillac Seville that he drove proudly around the streets of West Hempstead and Garden City. The plush leather interior, automatic windows, and fancy dashboard full of lights and buttons, impressed me immensely. Before our trips to and from the post office and bagel shop, he relayed a pre-flight checklist to an imaginary control tower on Mayfair Avenue to confirm that Air Teravainen was ready for takeoff. As his co-captain for the trip, I beamed with delight that we were pretending together.
Years later while attending college, I received a letter from Grandpa announcing that he was initiating a cruise initiative vastly different from the joyrides we had in the Caddy. “Kirkfest” became a tradition whereby Grandpa purchased a cruise vacation for all of his children and grandchildren. We traveled the Caribbean together as a family at least six or seven times. Grandma and Grandpa watched in delight as my cousins and I reinforced our bonds teasing one another incessantly. Framed formal portraits of our sunburned relatives posing awkwardly while straining against varying levels of impatience abound the walls of my parents, aunts, and uncles. THE WIFE even made it into the last Kirkfest I was able to attend, which is a special memory for me.
My grandfather’s quiet generosity impresses me not just because I can’t even fathom having enough savings to ever retire without reverse mortgaging our house, but because he didn’t need to flaunt his success to anyone. Grandpa could have paid to have his name emblazoned on a wall somewhere at St. John’s. Instead, he modestly established college funds for his great grandchildren. And, in addition to his family whom he spoiled with support and assistance when needed or not, Grandpa patronized many other charitable causes that were important to him. His obituary asked that in lieu of flowers, donations issue to one of many different charities he loved, or the one of your choice. He supported many worthy causes, not because they are a tax deduction, but because he truly believed in the purpose of living charitably. He was a devout Catholic in all the right ways.
Grandpa’s charity was not limited to just financial contributions and gifts. Tom Kirk not only received lots of mail: he was also legendary for the frequency of correspondence that he sent to those he loved. Religious themed cards were a staple for almost all holidays and birthdays. Even better was when he enclosed a news clipping that pertained to politics (the historical nadir of presidential administrations currently may have expedited his death,) an article about the importance of mammograms, a how-to on applying for dual citizenship from Ireland, or anything in between. I loved seeing an envelope from Grandpa in his handwriting.
To be fair, my grandfather was not perfect. He pushed all of our buttons in different ways, which need not be rehashed. But the love he had for his family was perfection. It was unconditional. It was abundant. It was selfless.
See. I told you this was going to be a long story. But you won’t get an apology from me because I can’t succinctly express how much my family and I are going to miss this man.
Grandpa, I said goodbye to you already but I’ll say it again. I love you so much. You were the only grandfather I was ever able to know, and you set the bar very high. I hope I make you proud as a man, a husband, and a father. I will do my best to follow the example that you set. Please tell Grandma that I love her and miss her so much, too. I am comforted to know that you can rest in peace together.
I will finally stop writing my story now and tell my wife how beautiful she looks. Or maybe I’ll send her a love letter instead.
Because the newspaper that published Grandpa’s obituary somehow mangled it with various typographical and grammatical errors that would have likely tortured my grandfather into writing a letter to the editor, I took the liberty of revising it in a manner that would hopefully be an acceptable version to the scrutinous eye of Thomas S. Kirk:
Tom Kirk was a graduate of Brooklyn College and St. John's University Law School. Tom served in the U.S. Army and was recalled in 1950 when he changed branches of service to the U.S. Air Force. He represented the Air Force in claims made against it by local individuals. Tom served in various bases until he was transferred to Mildenhall Air Force Base in England, where he met and married the love of his life, Pauline Cullen, in September of 1952. After admittance to the New York State Bar, Tom's career was associated with various insurance companies throughout his career. He became a Senior Trial Attorney in 1962 and ultimately a resident attorney for 19 years with Liberty Mutual Insurance Company as in-house counsel.
Tom was married to Pauline Rita Cullen Kirk for 59 years until her death in 2009. He is survived by his children, Margaret Teravainen (Dennis Teravainen), Deborah Mendoza (William Mendoza), Lorraine Domitz (Howard Domitz), Terrence Kirk (Gabby Kirk), Timothy Kirk (Bruce Martinelli), and Thomas J.F. Kirk (Claudia Kirk). He also has seven grandchildren- Dennis, Thomas, Megan, Kate Lyn, Lauren, Brian, and Katherine, in addition to 11 great-grandchildren.
A wake will be held on Wednesday, October 3, from 2- 4:30 p.m. and 7-9:30 p.m. at Barnes and Sorrentino, located at 539 Hempstead Avenue; a Mass of remembrance will be held at St. Thomas the Apostle Parish, at 10 a.m., 24 Westminster Rd., West Hempstead. A celebration of Tom's life will be held immediately following the Mass. It is also Tom's request that in lieu of flowers, please make a donation to the Edmundite Fathers in Selma, Alabama, Doctors Without Borders, Feed the Children, Save Our Aging Religious: SOAR, The Smile Train, or the charity of your choice.
From a corner in the dining room, I watched in awe as Grandpa methodically opened piles of envelopes while seated at the head of his table. He deftly sliced and diced envelopes with his letter opener, like a master craftsman whittling a sculpture, then squinted through his glasses to skim through a myriad of correspondence. I don’t know if my memory is incorrect, but I like to believe that a WNEW broadcast, Sinatra, or Irish folk tunes would be playing in the background.
One of the counselor’s favorite pieces of mail back in the day were his sweepstakes applications. I don’t know the details but he somehow won a maroon Cadillac Seville that he drove proudly around the streets of West Hempstead and Garden City. The plush leather interior, automatic windows, and fancy dashboard full of lights and buttons, impressed me immensely. Before our trips to and from the post office and bagel shop, he relayed a pre-flight checklist to an imaginary control tower on Mayfair Avenue to confirm that Air Teravainen was ready for takeoff. As his co-captain for the trip, I beamed with delight that we were pretending together.
Years later while attending college, I received a letter from Grandpa announcing that he was initiating a cruise initiative vastly different from the joyrides we had in the Caddy. “Kirkfest” became a tradition whereby Grandpa purchased a cruise vacation for all of his children and grandchildren. We traveled the Caribbean together as a family at least six or seven times. Grandma and Grandpa watched in delight as my cousins and I reinforced our bonds teasing one another incessantly. Framed formal portraits of our sunburned relatives posing awkwardly while straining against varying levels of impatience abound the walls of my parents, aunts, and uncles. THE WIFE even made it into the last Kirkfest I was able to attend, which is a special memory for me.
My grandfather’s quiet generosity impresses me not just because I can’t even fathom having enough savings to ever retire without reverse mortgaging our house, but because he didn’t need to flaunt his success to anyone. Grandpa could have paid to have his name emblazoned on a wall somewhere at St. John’s. Instead, he modestly established college funds for his great grandchildren. And, in addition to his family whom he spoiled with support and assistance when needed or not, Grandpa patronized many other charitable causes that were important to him. His obituary asked that in lieu of flowers, donations issue to one of many different charities he loved, or the one of your choice. He supported many worthy causes, not because they are a tax deduction, but because he truly believed in the purpose of living charitably. He was a devout Catholic in all the right ways.
Grandpa’s charity was not limited to just financial contributions and gifts. Tom Kirk not only received lots of mail: he was also legendary for the frequency of correspondence that he sent to those he loved. Religious themed cards were a staple for almost all holidays and birthdays. Even better was when he enclosed a news clipping that pertained to politics (the historical nadir of presidential administrations currently may have expedited his death,) an article about the importance of mammograms, a how-to on applying for dual citizenship from Ireland, or anything in between. I loved seeing an envelope from Grandpa in his handwriting.
To be fair, my grandfather was not perfect. He pushed all of our buttons in different ways, which need not be rehashed. But the love he had for his family was perfection. It was unconditional. It was abundant. It was selfless.
See. I told you this was going to be a long story. But you won’t get an apology from me because I can’t succinctly express how much my family and I are going to miss this man.
Grandpa, I said goodbye to you already but I’ll say it again. I love you so much. You were the only grandfather I was ever able to know, and you set the bar very high. I hope I make you proud as a man, a husband, and a father. I will do my best to follow the example that you set. Please tell Grandma that I love her and miss her so much, too. I am comforted to know that you can rest in peace together.
I will finally stop writing my story now and tell my wife how beautiful she looks. Or maybe I’ll send her a love letter instead.
~~~~~
Because the newspaper that published Grandpa’s obituary somehow mangled it with various typographical and grammatical errors that would have likely tortured my grandfather into writing a letter to the editor, I took the liberty of revising it in a manner that would hopefully be an acceptable version to the scrutinous eye of Thomas S. Kirk:
Tom Kirk was a graduate of Brooklyn College and St. John's University Law School. Tom served in the U.S. Army and was recalled in 1950 when he changed branches of service to the U.S. Air Force. He represented the Air Force in claims made against it by local individuals. Tom served in various bases until he was transferred to Mildenhall Air Force Base in England, where he met and married the love of his life, Pauline Cullen, in September of 1952. After admittance to the New York State Bar, Tom's career was associated with various insurance companies throughout his career. He became a Senior Trial Attorney in 1962 and ultimately a resident attorney for 19 years with Liberty Mutual Insurance Company as in-house counsel.
Tom was married to Pauline Rita Cullen Kirk for 59 years until her death in 2009. He is survived by his children, Margaret Teravainen (Dennis Teravainen), Deborah Mendoza (William Mendoza), Lorraine Domitz (Howard Domitz), Terrence Kirk (Gabby Kirk), Timothy Kirk (Bruce Martinelli), and Thomas J.F. Kirk (Claudia Kirk). He also has seven grandchildren- Dennis, Thomas, Megan, Kate Lyn, Lauren, Brian, and Katherine, in addition to 11 great-grandchildren.
A wake will be held on Wednesday, October 3, from 2- 4:30 p.m. and 7-9:30 p.m. at Barnes and Sorrentino, located at 539 Hempstead Avenue; a Mass of remembrance will be held at St. Thomas the Apostle Parish, at 10 a.m., 24 Westminster Rd., West Hempstead. A celebration of Tom's life will be held immediately following the Mass. It is also Tom's request that in lieu of flowers, please make a donation to the Edmundite Fathers in Selma, Alabama, Doctors Without Borders, Feed the Children, Save Our Aging Religious: SOAR, The Smile Train, or the charity of your choice.
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