2017: the year that I lost my Dad - but in the end, not really

Mike, our Dad, and myself in the late 1960's

The calendar is about to flip not only to the end of a month, but also to the end of another year. The end of December causes most of us to take a glance back at the events of the past year. As usual, this one was filled with many good times

But the calendar year of 2017 was a year of goodbyes for me as well. The biggest goodbye of all was one of the hardest of my life. This was the year that I had to say goodbye to my Dad.

I'm sure that many of you can say something similar to this regarding your own fathers. My Dad, Matthew Joseph Veasey Jr, was my hero. He was also very much a role model and inspiration. But it wasn't always that way.

Many of the memories that I hold from childhood and my teenage years regarding my relationship with my Dad are way too personal to share publicly. The specifics of those memories belong kept between he and I, and a few close family members.

Suffice it to say that I was the test case for challenging my Dad. I have a younger brother, Mike, and I'm fairly certain from conversations that we all had in later years that he would back me up on that fact.

I grew through my teen years and tried to spread my wings away from the control of this tough-guy U.S. Marine and Philadelphia Police boss. It didn't always go smoothly.

But through those difficult years we learned a greater respect for one another. And the fact that I had already softened him up made things a little easier on my brother coming up right behind me. You're welcome, Bro.

As I said, my Dad was a Philly cop, rising through the ranks to retire as a Captain after three decades of service to the community. I took the test at the age of just 18 as well, and passed through all of the preliminaries. Unfortunately for me, this was the one time in the last half-century that the PPD was going through actual layoffs and not hiring anyone new.

Despite taking that test and my father's career choice, I never had some overwhelming urge to become a police officer myself during my 20's. After that early test, I never even considered that line of work.

Dad (L) with Mike & I and our families, summer 1993

I began to draw closer to my Dad during the decade of the 1980's. He got much more political in his 40's, and recruited me to help out with those efforts. This involved volunteer work on a couple of Philly mayoral races, and his move into the presidency of the Philadelphia Emerald Society, a local Irish organization.

Conversations that we had during those years definitely can be given credit for at least planting seeds of change in me. I was a liberal Democrat to that point in life. He had become much more conservative.

While I disagreed with many of his positions in our discussions, which at times bordered on arguments, he forced me to think and to defend my own thought process.

Over time, I would challenge myself in my worldview, leading to more open-minded self-education on my part. This ultimately led to a wholesale change that was much more in line with his thinking.

I made him a grandfather twice over in those 1980's, and at a young age. This allowed him to enjoy decades with his granddaughters, who he loved unconditionally. He wanted to be called "Grandfather" by them, because he felt it was more regal. Though we busted his chops on that choice of title over the years, the girls embraced it and him, returning his love completely.

That 'busting chops' aspect would become a staple of conversations involving him, my brother, and I during the 1990's. Over the last three decades of his life, those little dining table discussions among the three of us will always remain some of my own life's favorite moments.

Following his retirement in late 1989, our Dad moved down to Florida. He would spend the last quarter-century of his life there, but returned to the Philly area for regular visits. Even though we all eventually gained a greater ability to stay in close touch via access to the Internet and cell phones, he stated "I need hugs", and would make his way up to Philly for a visit.

The 'Secret' to a Good Marriage

Thanks to Miss USA runner-up Carrie Prejean, there has been a lot of discussion around the country in the past week regarding the issue of the sacrament of Marriage.

I also had the honor of attending a wedding yesterday, and got to enjoy all of the joy and happiness that surrounds those blissful occasions.

I'm going to keep the marriage topic going for one more day here. Only this time it's not going to be the issue of 'who' or 'what' should or should not be allowed to marry.

Rather, I'm going to dip in to my own personal experience and education bag of tricks to offer some advice to married couples, and to those who are contemplating getting married.

I think that I can speak on this topic as well as most anyone on earth. I've been married twice in my lifetime, raised children, and gone through almost every type of struggle that most normal married persons go through, including any number that I myself created along the way. I've bought and remodeled two homes. I've bought three cars, a handful of barbecue grills, and a golden retriever.

I've gone from being a 'cafeteria' Catholic to a solid, church-going, sacrament receiving, money-happily-donated defender of the faith. My point is that, like many of you, I come from a decades-long background and experience base that gives me a strong perspective of what it takes to make a marriage work.

I didn't come upon my own particular ideas easily or quickly, nor without causing myself and my family in both marriages a number of difficult moments. But what I have learned is that marriage can be broken down to the dedication of ones self to a pair of very simple words: love and priority. Let's deal with the easy one first.

47

Happy Birthday to me! Well, to me and everyone else celebrating today. I share this birthday with baseball's J.D. Drew, football's Mark Gastineau and Joey Galloway, comedians Richard Dawson and Dick Smothers, musician Joe Walsh, and a trio of gorgeous actresses: Bo Derek, Sean Young and Veronica Hamel. This was also Bobby Kennedy's birthday. I woke up a little over an hour ago after a pretty good night sleeping, and my 47th birthday started out about as good as I could ever hope. My wife Debbie Veasey was already awake and nearly ready to leave for work, but before she left she greeted me with a big smile, a hug and kiss, and a sincere "Happy birthday, honey!" And she had a birthday card for me too. One of those with a real nice message and signed off with her love. It really doesn't get any better than that. Now here I sit alone at my dining room table just like many other mornings. A fresh, hot cup of Wawa coffee beside me, loaded up with their irish cream, which I understand that they are discontinuing. Wawa is one of life's pleasures, the local chain store for food, cigarettes, newspapers, and other essentials of American daily living. Here at the Veasey Ranch, we buy bags of their coffee so that we enjoy the brew not just on the run, but right here at home. The irish coffee creamer product that Wawa produces at their dairy is my personal favorite add-in. It's creamy and tasty, and along with a couple of packets of Equal, helps make the perfect pick-me-up beverage in my world. I hope the rumors turn out false about the irish cream. Don't you just hate it when some store discontinues some product that you have enjoyed for a long time? So it is with me and birthday cakes. As a boy growing up in South Philly, my local corner bakery shop was a little place called Hier's Bakery at 3rd & Wolf Streets. You could live and die right there at that intersection, which was just around the corner from our little house at 2321 S. American Street. The four corners at the intersection of south 3rd Street and Wolf Street featured Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church on the southeast, the Murphy-Ruffenach funeral home on the northeast, a doctor's office on the northwest, and Hier's on the southwest. Those institutions are still on those same corners today, though the actual doctor practice has changed, the funeral home gone through a merger, and the bakery ownership has also changed a number of times. When it was Hier's back in those 'Wonder Years' days for me of the late 1960's and early 1970's, they always featured a cake that became my birthday cake every year. The cake was layered with a chocolate layer on top of a yellow cake layer. Running between the two cakes was a delicious, thin strip of white cream. Surrounding the whole creation was the most incredible, full, sweet, dark-colored chocolate icing. And then at the top was another layer of that same white icing that ran through the middle. I would always take a slice and eat the yellow layer first, making sure that my fork took the thin vanilla icing layer with it. This was only the opening act though. Then I would move on to the upper chocolatey world. There was something about the interplay between this particular chocolate cake, chocolate edge icing, and white top icing that exploded in your mouth. I can taste it still this morning, even though I have not had a piece of that cake in about 25 years. At some point during the 1980's, whomever owned the old Hier's business sold out. I did go in a couple of times and inquired about the cake, but the new owners didn't seem to know what I was talking about. I never saw my birthday cake again. My guess is that the recipe is likely laying around somewhere, maybe in some drawer at the home of a former bakery owner. Maybe the recipe has been passed along, and the cake is being made today in some bakery out there that I have no idea even exists. It is one of those little things in life that was a regular feature of my childhood that is now gone. It is something that was here, is gone seemingly forever, and that I do miss. To find it again one day would be a miracle akin to a Christian explorer locating the Holy Grail itself. Well, okay maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but you get the idea. I hope that little slice of heaven from my childhood is not repeating itself here in my middle-aged adult life with the Wawa irish cream. But one thing that I have learned over these 47 years that I celebrate the anniversary of today is that things change. But as to those things large and small that we have come to welcome and enjoy in our lives, the little things that make life just a wee bit more enjoyable, they will stay with us forever, at least in our memories. I thank God for that childhood birthday cake. I thank God for Wawa irish cream. I thank God for the woman that I woke up to this morning. And I thank God for these past 47 years. Happy birthday to me!

Three Thrilling Innings

Unable to get into Citizen's Bank Park at anything close to resembling a reasonable price, my wife, Debbie Veasey, and I ultimately decided to hunker down in the comfort and warmth of our family room to watch the conclusion of Game #5 of the 2008 World Series. The 52-inch TV, our dog Petey, our home cabinets and refrigerators with drinks and treats, my cellphone to text friends and family during the game, and our new video camera would be our companions through the night. Nowhere else that I would rather be, or anyone else that I would rather have been with, than Deb. She is a huge Phillies fan in her own right, and we enjoy watching games on TV and attending them together in person all spring and summer. Pre-game we decided to head out to a local Chinese buffet where we talked some about what we thought would happen when it re-started. With Game #5 having been suspended after 5 1/2 innings by incredibly horrid rain and cold on Monday night, the first time in history that an MLB post-season game was ever suspended, some unusual situations were set up. Phillies original starter Cole Hamels would be leading off the bottom of the 6th for the Phils, but since he would not be available to pitch on such short rest (two days of the delay), he would certainly be replaced with a pinch-hitter. Local radio sports talk hosts had speculated that the Phils would go with either pinch-hit king Greg Dobbs or slugging Matt Stairs. But I told Deb that I felt the choice would and should be Geoff Jenkins. It was silly to use Dobbs that early, you might need his clutch bat at the end. And Stairs is a one-trick pony who you needed to save just in case you needed that trick, a homerun, at some stage. This situation called for someone left-handed, since the Rays had a righty on the mound. Jenkins was the one left, and was the obvious choice to me. Apparently it was the right choice by Charlie Manuel (pictured, with the World Series trophy) as well, because Jenkins it was to lead it off, and he drove a 3-2 pitch to deep right-center field for a double. A sacrifice bunt by JRoll and a humpback single to center by Jayson Werth, and it was 3-2 Phillies right off the bat. But that was only the beginning, as this suspended 3 innings of play would pack in as much drama as most full games. In the top of the 7th, the Rays tied it on a homerun from Rocco Baldelli off of Ryan Madson. Later in the inning it would be up to Phils' 2nd baseman Chase Utley to provide the heroics with his glove, arm, and head. With two outs and Rays shortstop Jason Bartlett at 2nd base, Akinori Iwamura sent a ball bouncing up the middle. Utley ranged nicely to his right and behind the bag at 2nd, fielded the ball cleanly in his glove, transferred the ball to his bare hand, and pivoted as if to throw to first base. As Utley likely knew, there would be no chance to get the speedy Iwamura on this play. But he made it seem as if he was going through with the throw, fooling Bartlett into thinking this, and Bartlett never stopped in rounding 3rd, heading for home with the go-ahead run. Instead of actually throwing to first, Utley double-clutched, turned his body slightly, and fired a one-bounce strike to catcher Carlos Ruiz just slightly up the 3rd base line. Ruiz took the throw and dove out after Bartlett, who was diving around his tag attempt in trying to get to home plate. Ruiz stretched out and nailed Bartlett three feet short of the plate, and the Phillies were out of the inning still tied. Utley's heady play will go down in history as one of the greatest, if not the single greatest, defensive plays in the history of Philadelphia sports. And a nice assist to Ruiz on the other end as well. In the bottom of the 7th, the longest tenured Phillie, leftfielder Pat 'the Bat' Burrell, would lead things off. Burrell was the only Phillie to not get much involved thus far in the Series as he was hitless, and this could well be the final at-bat as a Phil since he is a free agent this coming off-season. Almost every Phils fan that I heard talking in the time leading up to the game was rooting for Burrell to do something special, and Pat didn't let us down. He got a hold of a fastball and drove it deep to centerfield, the farthest part of the park, for what looked like it was going to be a go-ahead homerun. But the ball crashed off the fence, missing that homer by just a couple of feet. As it bounced back to the turf, Burrell rolled into 2nd base, and the Phils had led-off their 2nd straight inning with a double. Eric Bruntlett came in to pinch-run for Burrell, who left to a tremendous ovation, and Bruntlett quickly moved over to 3rd base on Shane Victorino's bouncer to 2nd. Up to the plate stepped 3rd baseman Pedro Feliz, and he delivered the biggest hit of his career with a line-drive single right back through the box, scoring Bruntlett and putting the Phils back on top by 4-3 heading into the 8th. Again in the top of the 8th, the Rays kept coming. With a runner on first, Phils reliever J.C. Romero induced young Rays star B.J. Upton to ground a ball right to Phils shortstop Jimmy Rollins who flipped it over to Utley at 2nd for the forceout. In the same motion, Utley pivoted to turn the doubleplay as the runner barrelled down on him to break it up. But the Phils all-star 2nd baseman hung in under fire and made a strong throw, nailing the speedy Upton by a step to complete the twin killing. The Phils were held off the board in their half of the 8th, and so the game went into the top of the 9th with the team just three outs away from the 2nd World Series title in their 125-year history. Manuel gave the ball to closer Brad Lidge, who had become known as 'Lights-Out Lidge' by not blowing a Save opportunity all year. Lidge got the first batter, but then gave up a hit and a stolen base to put the Rays tying run at 2nd with one out. Nothing ever comes easy in Philadelphia. The next batter sliced a ball to the opposite field that looked off the bat like a game-tying single, but the rocket hung in the air and went directly at rightfielder Jayson Werth for out #2. The Rays brought up pinch-hitter Eric Hinske, who had homered in his only at-bat of the Series in Game #4. Lidge quickly got ahead, and as the centerfield clock at Citizen's Bank Park reached exactly 10pm, Lidge fired a slider that dove down under Hinske's swinging bat and into the glove of catcher Ruiz for a Series-clinching strikeout. As Ruiz charged the mound in celebration, Lidge dropped to his knees and looked prayerfully skyward. Ruiz grabbed him in a bear hug, and the two were immediately tackled to the ground by big 1st baseman Ryan Howard. The rest of the team was in hot pursuit, and the pile-on crushed those three as everyone else joined the celebration. The Phillies fans in the stands waved their 'Rally Towels' with glee, jumped up and down, hugged one another, roared, cried, and generally exploded with joy at the city's first professional sports championship in a quarter century. Back at home, Deb and I had been videotaping our evening and the game as it progressed on TV, and we were jumping around our living room with that same joyfulness. Deb grabbed a pot and big spoon, and ran out front to clang them in celebration with some neighbors. We watched the post-game shows both on Fox and local Comcast Sportsnet, as well as all the local news angles. The street celebrations quickly grew, and Deb and I decided to get dressed and head out. We drove around in Northeast Philly hot spots, honking our horns and cheering out the windows with other drivers and pedestrians, and even stopped at a local sporting goods store at 1am to buy some Phillies world championship shirts. The three innings that began with Jenkins' opening double, that included Werth's rbi blooper, Burrell's heroic double, Feliz' winning rbi single, Utley's defensive excellence, the Rays' persistence, and finally closed with Lidge's strikeout, were three of the most unusual but greatest innings in World Series history. And they ended with the Philadelphia Phillies as the world champions. It just does not get any better than this. Ever. As Deb said, thank you Tug McGraw in Heaven! And let me add to her sentiments both John Vukovich and John Marzano, who were surely watching over and rooting us on from above with the Tugger. And thank you, sweet Jesus! Thank you, God in Heaven! And last but not least, thank you to the 2008 Philadelphia Phillies, from Series MVP Cole Hamels, to all the players and coaches, up to the top of ownership, and down to the lowest employees on the organizational ladder. Today, you are my heroes. Thank you.

Happy Anniversary, Baby

For many people, true love seems elusive. At least in the popular media, women are usually perceived to be and often portrayed as being in search of it, and men often seem to be doing everything they can to avoid it. But that is a broad generalization that speaks more to the somewhat higher level of maturity that many women have over the men in their same age bracket. I believe strongly that, in addition to things like wealth and status, it is this maturity that older men eventually attain which attracts younger women to them as partners. It is one of the reasons that you see 'twenty-something' women with 'fourty-something' men. In the late spring of 1992, at one of the lowest points in my own life, true love found me. I was going through a separation from my first wife, and there were many things going through my mind and heart as I made that break, too personal to discuss here. But suffice it to say that love was the last thing that I was looking for on a Saturday night when I made what was going to be a quick after-work stop at a local private club. Suddenly while sitting there at a bar, talking to an acquaintance, an angel walked into the place, and my eyes went right to her. I don't care how many people think these kinds of things are the stuff of fiction, because I can tell you that it was a fact that something big drew my attention to her. Oh sure, she looked great: blonde, built, and beautiful. She was wearing a white top and a white mini-skirt on that late-May night. She would have attracted the attention of most any guy. She made her way to the bar, where directly across from me a group of what turned out to be her friends was sitting. After talking with them for a bit, she slipped around the bar to where I was sitting. It was my good fortune; strike that, it was fate, that she knew the person with whom I was sitting. At one point he turned and introduced us, and we began to talk. At some point I asked her to dance. We 'clicked' immediately, and we ended up having a nice time spent mostly together, talking and dancing, for the next couple of hours. I forgot all about my problems, all about my life. At that moment, my life was right there in that room with that woman. We kissed that first night, and it was 'fireworks in the sky' stuff. I asked her to go out again, and we actually went out the very next night to the very same club. She became my steady date: same club every Friday night. Eventually we gave in to the obvious, and after a year and a half we got engaged. I was getting ready to do something that I never thought I would do while going through the early months of the separation from my first marriage: take the plunge yet again. On October 7th, 1995, with all of our friends and family gathered with us, we enjoyed what remains the most special day of my life. We married at the Gloria Dei 'Old Swedes' Church in South Philly, took wedding photos at a rose garden in the historic area near Independence Hall, and celebrated our wedding with a tremendous party of a reception at the Firefighters union hall. We then left on a week-long getaway to the island of St. Lucia, a paradise that neither of us will ever forget, where we enjoyed many of the most fun times we ever had in either of our lives. The entire period around our wedding was an experience that I wish everyone, especially my own girls, could enjoy at least one real time in their lives. In the ensuing years, I was not always a good and proper steward of that love, and I let her down on a few occassions, a couple of them truly testing our bond. But through her love and faith in us, and our firm commitment to one another, and the blessings of God, we have been able to not only overcome those difficulties but rise above them. She is the light of my life, the love of my life. My best friend, my partner, my wife. Today is our 'Lucky 13th' anniversary, and I can say in all honesty that I would not trade her for anyone or anything. If you haven't found this kind of thing, keep looking, it's out there. If you have, and you're not nurturing it, make that change, because it just doesn't come along very often. Whatever you out there are doing today, what I will be doing is celebrating the gift of this wonderful woman in my life. I am in love with Debbie Veasey, my wife, and I am happy to tell the world. Happy anniversary, baby.

That's My Boy !

My grandson was born just a month ago, and is beginning to make his presence known in the family. But I never had a son, so for a long time the only other male in the immediate family was a boy named 'Petey'.

He alternates between long hair, when we sometimes refer to him as the 'puffy dog' and his shaved-down look. I am talking, of course, about our family dog: the one and only Petey Veasey.

Petey came to us in the fall of 1999, just about five months after we moved into our new home in the Somerton section of Philly. It was a bit of a coincidence that brought us together. Our new home with a spacious back yard came at the same time that Pete was being evicted from his previous residence.

It seems that as a puppy living in a cramped row home in Fishtown, young puppy Pete escaped from his cage one day while his owners were at work and quickly went about the task of tearing a new leather sofa apart. His owner, a young man named Jeff, was engaged to a young woman who promptly told him "that dog is outta here, and you ain't getting back in with him!" This broke Jeff's heart, as he had taken to loving Petey, but he chose his fiancee and put Petey up for adoption at a Bensalem shelter.

My wife, Debbie Veasey, worked with and was good friends with Jeff's mom, and heard about the story. We had been discussing the possibility of getting a dog, and when Deb brought up the idea of adopting Petey it sounded good to me.

The Gift

It’s Christmastime once again. More specifically it is the final weekend before Christmas Day itself. This certainly means that over the next two days there will be a mad rush by many folks to complete shopping for their gift lists.

That perfume or pajamas for your wife, a book for your pop, a couple of gift cards for aunts and uncles, one more toy for the kids. For many (from what I hear) it will be one final attempt at picking up a “Wii” gaming system.

For the next two days it will most certainly seem in many respects as if it is, as Andy Williams famously sang, “the most wonderful time of the year.” There will be house parties among friends, relatives, and neighbors, Christmas carols will be heard from homes and cars, home light displays will be sparkling for longer hours.

For many it will be a weekend of anxiety. Worrying that you simply must complete your shopping. Worrying that you won’t have enough money to buy all the presents that you want. Worrying about the limits on your credit cards, and the balances in your bank accounts.

Whether you are reading this as the weekend begins, and I can help you right now, or sometime later when you can take this to heart for next year, stay with me a minute and let me try to help you out. Let me try to calm you down, straighten you out, ease your anxiety, and vastly improve your Christmas enjoyment.

Are you ready?

Stop buying everyone gifts.

Happy Thanksgiving to You, Happy Birthday to Me

On this coming Tuesday, I will turn 46 years old. Two days later is Thanksgiving. It is the closest that my birthday ever comes to actually falling on the holiday, which it will never exactly meet.

Thanksgiving is celebrated always on the fourth Thursday in November, and if you do the calculating you will see that the latest that my birth date, the 20th, can fall is on the third Thursday.

Still, with this being my own closest confluence of the two days, which some years is almost a full week apart, it gives me a good opportunity to reflect on what exactly it is for which I am personally thankful.

Sliding towards the back end of my 40’s, with apparently no reversal of this aging process in sight, reflection is something that I find increasingly vital in my life, and here is a sharing of those things.

I am thankful for having a good career that is affording me opportunities and experiences that I could have never imagined as a young man. To tell of all the many exciting, demanding, rewarding experiences that one gathers over almost two decades as a police officer on the streets of a big city would take up volumes. Suffice it to say that they have all contributed to my personal growth and knowledge. For this career I am very thankful.

Dad, In Real Life

In my experience, cops are some of the strongest "family" folks around, and yet that can sometimes seem contradictory. The rate of divorce for police officers is as high as 60-75% according to some studies.

One officer who has been married and divorced multiple times is even said to have amusingly stated: "If I ever decide to get married again, I'm just gonna find some woman that I don't like very much, and just buy her a house."

I can vouch for the feelings involved, being divorced once myself. After that one, I met and married again, to my wife Debbie, who I can tell you for a fact is the most wonderful woman in the world.

And yet with all that is good in her and in the relationship, I have certainly made it a "challenge" for her at times. It has only been in the last few years that I have begun to seriously take a look at and understand the challenges of stress on police officers, and their marriages in particular.

Marriage challenges for a high percentage of cops doesn't tell the full story. I know many officers who have great marriages, and who adore their wives and husbands, even if they sometimes need to fight through challenges.

And there are more familial relationships than spousal ones. I have seen few people dote over and care for their kids, and even their aging parents when needed, the way that cops will.