Deacon Joseph Vitello’s Eulogy (4/27/37-10/20/16)
Read by his children Paul, with Shaun, Mark, Pete and Claire

Our Dad loved the 1970 autobiography by Gale Sayers, the great Chicago Bears running back. It summarized Sayers life but it also chronicled the friendship and battle with cancer of his teammate Brian Piccolo. The movie that was made was called Brian’s Song, but the book was called I Am Third. And Sayers explained in the book that in his life God is first, my family is second, and I am third. I always thought that this was so indicative of Dad’s life. He and mom lived for God and family and put themselves last. My father was a vocal faith in God that grew out of Mom’s deep inner faith. She had a hard upbringing in Roman Valley, Nova Scotia. Drive to the sticks, then keep going for a couple hundred miles and you’ve found Roman Valley. Her faith was formed from her Mother Peg Kenny, who our Dad adored, and through a life where nothing was given to you. You worked for food, heat and a roof and you took nothing for granted. Our Dad came from Jamaica Plain where his Dad eventually settled as an immigrant from Reisi, Sicily. Dad adored his Mom and Dad and his sisters Fran and Dottie. His mother had that strong inner faith and his Dad had a PhD in common sense. His parents also came from nothing, had nothing handed to them, and worked to achieve the American Dream.

At age 18 Mom left Roman Valley and landed in Braintree by bus with $12 and a suitcase. Dad, believe it or not was “a little” shy around the ladies. But eventually got enough courage to ask Mom out. He always said he loved her when he saw her for the first time. In 1960 they married in a double wedding at St. Francis of Assisi in Braintree with Moms sister Helen who had joined her in the States, and her husband Chet. In 1961 Shaun arrived very premature at 3.5 pounds, and he stayed in the hospital for 2 months. In 1962, I arrived very premature at 4 pounds and stayed in the hospital for 1 month. Mark came on Mother’s Day 1964. Finally full term. In 1966 Neal arrived healthy and full term. Two months later, Neal died. Sudden infant death syndrome had taken their child. To this day we talk about Neal and how faith in God alone allowed Mom and Dad to try and understand this tragedy and try to move on. Their faith and their certainty in knowing they would be with Neal again at the end of their lives is all that kept them from falling apart. In 1967 Peter arrived and he was certainly full term. That baby was a keeper. Claire arrived in 1969, giving Dad his little girl and Mom another female in the house.

So, that was the family. Mom and Dad were the parents all kids in this world need. Their focus never changed. God first and family. It was never about things or stuff. It was supper at 5:30 pm every night, and you better not ever be late unless you wanted the tapping of Dad’s fork on his plate, followed by an exasperated sigh and potential talking to on why you were late. It was saying Grace before every meal. It was chop suey, or meatloaf, or spaghetti. And it was the cookie jar being passed around after the meal. It was saying “Excuse me from the table please” if you wanted to get up.

They were broke but we never knew it. My Mom says she has no idea how they made it some weeks and months, but always faith in a strong family and a hope that things could get better. It was 4:00 Mass on Saturdays. No excuses, be home, be ready, be respectfully dressed, say all the prayers, don’t talk or fool around. It was Dad coaching multiple baseball and hockey teams, neither of which he ever played. On the drive to every game, no matter who was in the car, it was the Prayer to St. Jude ” Most holy apostle St Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus. The name of the traitor who delivered you into the hands of his master has caused you to be forgotten by many. But the Church honors and invokes you AS THE PATRON OF HOPELESS CASES AND THINGS DESPAIRED OF…”. I used to think about that. Patron of hopeless cases?? Were we really that bad a hockey or baseball player?? But we prayed for a good game and the safety of all. It was us kids sticking up for each other, no matter what. It was hosting Christmas Eve at our house for over 40 years. Dad reading from a Bible and later him having everyone sing Happy Birthday to Jesus. And somehow presents for all on Christmas morning. It was vacations in Roman Valley and at Long Sought For Pond in Westford. And when we were in high school a drive to Florida in the Plymouth Satellite station wagon to go to Disney. It was the greatest time of our lives to that point.

So that was the upbringing. No wavering. No inconsistency.

It was service to the community and the Church. As a little kid I remember being so shocked, but so proud when Monsignor McShea was talking right here about finances and the need for support from the parishioners. He talked about some people that always helped and said “…and Joe Vitello who comes in here with his crew and beautifully paints this Church for next to nothing.” WHOA!! The Monsignor knows Dad? Who knew!? We later on found that Monsignor McShea had a profound impact on Dad’s life. He was, next to our Mom, the greatest source of solace after Neal had died.

Fast forward many years and Dad was approached about the Diaconate. As always, Big Joe V., Coach, Big Guy, did not feel worthy. But after much prayer and discussion he began his years of training. As always it was Mae and Joe, a team like no other. Mom attended and took notes in every class. For those not familiar with the training to become a Deacon, you are basically going to college 2 nights a week and one Saturday a month for 5 years. Throughout the process Dad struggled with not being worthy, while steady Mae continued to convince him that this was God’s plan for him. He was to be ordained in September 1990 and in August tragedy struck with the sudden death of our Aunt Helen. It crushed us all, but none more than her sons Mike and Barry, her mother our Nana Kenny, and Mom and Dad. Helen and Chet had moved with the boys next door to Mom and Dad over 15 years earlier. My Dad and Helen had an incredible friendship. A brother in law and sister in law that truly loved each other. Great buddies that made each other laugh. Once again, the pain felt was eased in part by the knowledge that someday all would be together again. One month later Dad was ordained.

Over the next 20 years, Dad and Mom prepared couples for marriage, Dad married them, many of them are here today, and he baptized hundreds of babies. He brought Communion to and visited with the sick and elderly. He presided over funerals and in some of the most courageous moments in his life, delivered the homilies at his parents, Ethel and Angelo Vitello, and his mother in law Peg Kenny’s funerals. How he did this is beyond me, but he spoke with strength, courage and conviction, again knowing they would be together in Heaven one day. He loved to preach, spending hours agonizing over each word in his homilies. He brought the perspective of the husband, a father, a son to his homilies. And as always, he did not mince words. He spoke from the heart about his faith and its teachings. Of respect for life, for strength in families, for helping the poor. He and Mom have tithed for years choosing different charities that needed support.

He had incredible love and pride in his 5 children, his 4 daughters-in-law and 1 son-in-law, and the grandchildren and in their continuing the faith. He loved watching the grandkids play baseball, soccer, softball, hockey and lacrosse.

One of the greatest and most impactful actions he took was the establishment of a medical mission in 2005 to Contanza in the Dominican Republic. His great friend and Brother Deacon Bill Kane had formed a mission earlier in Cevicos and “convinced” our Dad to take this on. The people of Contanza are poor, but happy, faith filled and hopeful of a better life. Bill knew my father would fall in love with the people and the mission. He did, and the mission continues with 1-2 trips each year of doctors, nurses, dentists, surgeons and ordinary volunteers wanting to help. Throughout his medical journey the past 5 years he tried to recruit doctors and nurses. The work of so many people that can’t all be named today, have and continue to make a difference in the lives of the people of Constanza. It is a life-changing experience so please support this mission whether it be with your time or financially.

Our Dad loved being in Churches. But in addition to his Diaconate responsibilities, he focused the business on the restoration of churches. His father had bought JW Graham Painting. He grew the business. My Dad bought the business from his Dad, and he grew the business. Dad loved being in the Shop, with the crew and with his customers. It was and is a family business. All of us kids worked at Graham. His friend and our Uncle John with Graham for 42 years. Shaun and Pete now own the business and they are still turning churches in need of restoration into beautiful houses of worship, like here at St. Francis.

It was hard to decide if talking about Dad’s illness was warranted. From his battle with bladder cancer to dementia, the diseases did not define him. In much the same way as they dealt with Mom’s battles with breast and then lung cancer, these were not times of asking “Why me?”. These were times of fighting with an understanding of the role “Thy will be done” played. It was putting and keeping faith in God through these times of challenge. Taking it on full force until God says “Enough”.

So this is a painful day in many ways. Everyone here today has a vision in their mind of our Dad. As a kid in Jamaica Plain, a groom at the altar, a big brother to his sisters, coaching wearing a baseball hat, or hockey skates, pronouncing you husband and wife, baptizing your baby, driving up in a JW Graham truck, on a beach in Venice Florida, offering you comfort or aid, writing you a short note or letter of encouragement, or maybe holding you on the living room floor after eating salad with Italian dressing and breathing on you, or looking with pride on his kids for the smallest of achievements, or at his grandkids with pure wonder, or at his wife with total unconditional love as he kissed you goodnight every night for over 50 years. We are all blessed to have had him in our lives. And while we know this wonderful world is a little less wonderful, we are so happy that heaven is even more perfect.

We love you Dad, as you loved us.