Although it always makes me sad, sometimes I like to read the eulogy that my Uncle Mike gave about my dad at his funeral because I feel like it so beautifully captured his life and spirit. Missing you lots today and always Dad.
Eulogy for G.E. Murray
The Murrays have a lot of history with this church. Thirty seven years ago Joanne and Jerry were
married here. Seven years ago Cate and
Dave were married here. Two weeks ago
Megan and Sam were married here. And now
we are all gathered again. This time to
say goodbye to one of the finest men most of us have ever known.
It is hard to find words to say about a man like Jerry
Murray. It’s hard to find enough
adjectives to describe him. He was so
many things to so many people.
Have you ever seen a guy who could do so many things—and do
them so well? He was, first and
foremost, a loving husband and a devoted father. Joanne, Caitlin, Mike and Megan—you guys
meant the world to Jerry and he showed it in everything he did. Tim – you were constantly in your brother’s
thoughts and he was always talking about you.
I know it’s been a rough three months for you losing first your mother
and now your brother. But, Tim, what a
wonderful brother you had.
There were many things that made Jerry Jerry. One of them was the he was such a night
owl. The guy just wouldn’t go to bed.
Some of the latest nights I ever spend were spent in the company of Jerry
Murray. Cate, Mike, and Meg, each of you
recalls coming home late at night to find Jerry in his office, writing
away. Invariably he would put aside
whatever he was doing and spend and hour (or two or three) chatting away about
everything and nothing.
It would be hard to overstate the breadth of Jerry’s
accomplishments. In many ways he was
your typical suburban dad: shooting baskets on the driveway, going to his kids’
basketball and football games. But, as
Caitlin said to me, when she turned twelve or so she realized that her dad, in
many ways, was NOT a typical dad. Most
Dads don’t have book release parties.
Most dads don’t take their families to literary conferences in Ireland
where they are featured speakers. Most
kids don’t jump in the car, turn on the radio and hear their Dad on NPR.
Was there anything the man couldn’t do? Besides being a
wonderful husband and father, he was a writer, a PR man, a poet, a painter, a
sailor, and an athlete. He was a big man, and a bruising presence on the
football field. How would you like to be
running downfield and have that freight train of a guy run into you?
Jerry was a true Renaissance man. He was extremely well-read. When you would go into the Murray house there
were books everywhere. Books in his
study, books in the hallway, books in the bathroom, books in his bedroom, heck,
books in everyone’s bedroom! When he and Joanne moved from their place on
Jackson, it took six of us almost a full day just to pack and move Jerry’s
books, so many of them inscribed for him by other authors who so admired
Jerry’s own work.
I suppose the thing the world will remember most about Jerry
Murray was his command of language. He
was a natural born writer. He always
knew what to say. I want to read to you
from a letter Jerry wrote to Patti and me 30 years ago, a few days after he and
Joanne had been the godparents at our daughter Eileen’s baptism…
February
15, 1978
Dear Patti and Mike,
We wanted to let you know what a
deeply-felt honor it was (and is) to serve as Eileen Deirdre’s godparents.
In the minds of all concerned, be
assured that our attendant responsibilities are taken seriously, and that so
long as we are breathing you little sweetheart will always have our total
support, in the best of circumstances or otherwise.
She’s such a sweet, precious child.
I really think all the Collinses and Burnses (and Murrays) are in a state of
euphoria over her and her fortunate parents.
So this is simply to say we are
yours and Eileen Deirdre’s now and always.
And again, our thanks for the very
special honor.
Love,
Jerry and Joanne
Remember, Jerry didn’t have to write us, and yet what a
beautiful letter he wrote, touching on all the things that matter most in
life. His heart was always in the right
place and he had the rare ability to translate the feelings of his heart into
words. As one of his reviewers once
said, “Murray is in love with the adventure of words.” And he was. He wrote eight volumes of poetry. He was published in over a hundred literary
magazines. His work was included in more than a dozen anthologies.
And he wrote in so many different genres. He wrote poems. He wrote columns. He wrote books. He wrote reviews. Heck, he even wrote songs. How good was he? He won a Devins award for REPAIRS in 1979 and
was nominated for a Pulitzer price for WALKING THE BLIND DOG in 1992. “A light shines through his work” one of his
reviewers once said. You know what? I think a light shone through Jerry Murray’s
life.
And yet Jerry never got caught up in the hoopla of his
accomplishments. He was never overly
impressed with himself. He remained true
to his roots, true to his wife and family, true to his religion. As they say, you can take the boy out of
Buffalo but you can’t take Buffalo out of the boy. He loved his birthplace. He just wrote a book about Buffalo that will
be out later this summer. A couple weeks
before he died, he told me how proud he was that a kid from Buffalo, Patrick Kane,
had just won rookie of the year in the NHL.
I am sure most of you remember three years ago when Jerry
first became ill, how he hovered on death’s doorstep for several weeks. The Murray family took up temporary residence
in the waiting room of the ICU down at Rush.
There was always someone there: Joanne and the kids, Patti and George,
Karen Trumbull, Maureen Furey and MaryAnn Shaunnessey. Tim Murray and Terry Burns flew in from out
of town and with their laughter and love and wacky remarks made not just Jerry
but everyone else feel better.
Jerry was unconscious much of that time. When he finally woke he had no idea how
serious his condition had been. It fell
to Joanne to tell him he had almost died.
Jerry was amazed. He had no idea
how close to death he had come.
“In fact,”
Joanne told him, “we even talked about who would do your eulogy.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Jerry responded. “Who did you pick?
Joanne told
him they had picked Mike Collins.
A few days
later I was visiting Jerry in his hospital room when he casually mentioned that
he heard I was going to do his eulogy. I told
Jerry I was proud to have been asked but glad it turned out not to be
necessary.
“Me too.”
Jerry said. And then, after a minute he
added, “You were going to say nice things, weren’t you?”
What else
can you say about Jerry Murray except nice things?
You know one of the things I always found amazing about
Jerry? He was a mountain of
contradictions. He was a football player
– who wrote poetry. He was a big old
bear of a guy – who never was too big to say “I love you.” He said it all the time. He loved his family and friends—and he never
tired of telling us, especially in the heel of the night. How many of us can recall Jerry wrapping
those big arms around us, sometimes even giving us a kiss and saying “I love
you.” Jerry Murray told me he loved me
more times than my own father did. As I
told Patti last night, I have only been kissed by one man in my life—Jerry
Murray—and he did it a thousand times!
But that’s Jerry. He loved
everyone. And everyone loved him.
Jerry has such a broad range of friends. No matter where I would go in the city I
would run into people who knew and loved Jerry Murray. I can’t tell you how many times over the last
three years I have been somewhere and the first thing out of someone’s mouth
was, “How’s Jerry?”
Jerry was a man who could write the following words of
poetry to his daughter Caitlin when she was born…
Kate,
beware and rejoice
In
the same breath,
But
don’t hold it too long.
Wear
is like a raincoat,
My
love, then shed us
In
a flush of sunlight.
And yet, the same sensitive soul who wrote those lines was
also the guy who, coming home from work one day, on the el, witnessing a
robbery, stood up and cold cocked the robber.
Joanne and Jerry had a wonderful marriage. They had their
share of good times, but toward the end, as Jerry’s health deteriorated, Joanne
was always there for him. I don’t think
any of us will ever know the full extent of Joanne’s devotion to Jerry, and
never once did she complain. The example
of devotion Joanne showed Jerry was just simply inspiring. They had thirty four wonderful years together
and then these last three tough ones, but in good times and bad, in sickness
and in health, Joanne was always there.
I’m a doctor. I’ve
seen a lot of sick people. I’ve seen a
lot of courageous battles. But in my
thirty years of medical practice I have never seen ANYTHING like what Jerry
Murray did. You wonder how he did it. How he went on for over three years when just
about every organ system in his body failed: his kidneys, his liver, his
pancreas, his intestines, his heart, his circulation, his neurological
system. He lost a hundred pounds. He had a leg cut off, toes cut off, part of
his bowl cut off.
Everything crashed except the one thing that matters most:
his spirit. God, what a fight he
waged. Maybe he got his fighting spirit
from his dad who went to Alabama on a boxing scholarship, I don’t know, but
what I do know is that so much of his strength came from those he
loved—especially his wife and children.
Joanne, Cate, Mike, and Megan that is something you can hold on to
forever. When everything was going
wrong, when every organ system was failing, it was your love that sustained and
nourished him.
Jerry was thrilled with his sons and daughter in law. It was such a great comfort to him to see his
children he loved so much settle down with such wonderful spouses. Dave, Meghan, and Sam, he loved you guys.
I know Jerry would want me to thank the doctors and nurses
at Rush who cared for him. It is a
testament to their kindness and devotion that many of them were at the wake
last night. I know he would especially
want me to thank Fresia for all her care and devotion. He loved you.
He would want me to thank his friends for all the support and kindness
you showed in so many ways—even going as far as building a ramp so he could get
in and out of the house easier. He loved
you.
Patti and I have every book Jerry ever wrote. Most of them he inscribed for us. My favorite is the inscription he wrote to us
28 years ago when “Repairs” was published.
It sums up everything that was Jerry Murray. “To Mike and Patti,” he wrote, “with faith
and love, Jerry.” With faith and
love. That was Jerry Murray.
I thought a lot over the past few days about what I should
say this morning, about who should be thanked, who acknowledged, and finally I
thought about what Jerry would want me to say.
It’s almost time for all of us in this church to rise and take that last
walk with Jerry. Before we follow this
wonderful man out of church I think he would want me to say one last thing to
you. This man who loved life, loved his
wife and kids, loved his family and friends, would want me to say to all of
you, one last time, “I love you.”
