Bill and Connie Formica
It has been several years now and I’m still distraught at the sudden loss of my grandfather – Bill Formica. I had lunch with him the day he died. He and I shared some clam chowder at his place, served up by my grandmother. It was her way - to feed us until we were overstuffed, and then pile on some more. “It’s just going to go to waste Brad” she’d say as she served another helping. We had enjoyed a nice lunch and I was thinking that Grandpop looked particularly vibrant that day. I told him he looked great. He told me, with the typical twinkle in his eye, that he felt great.
So it was particularly shocking when I got home from work that day to a half dozen messages to call my parents. His passing, unlike his wife’s, was shockingly fast.
The first time I had seen Grandpop’s eyes twinkle was at the beach house in Surf City. I’m not sure why, but we were celebrating. In hindsight, there were lots of “no reason” celebrations there. On this particular occasion, we were finishing dinner. I was all of 10 years old, sitting next to grandpop. He caught my eye as he was “preparing the champagne”. I had no idea what he was doing, but I knew from his gleam that something fun was about to happen. There were a few LBI cocktail glasses (juice cups) passed around the table and grandpop popped the cork. The geyser of champagne reached the ceiling. And, as he was convulsing with laughter, the bottle emptied itself on the kitchen table. Grandmom was apoplectic as grandpop winked at me and said he had no idea how that could have happened.
Despite his mischievous spirit, he carried himself with a quiet dignity that was remarkable. I don’t know what “it” was, but he commanded a loving respect of all that were around him.
Family, faith and fun.
First, they worked hard, without complaint, all the time. Grandpop was raised on a farm and worked in a chemical factory before he ended up at Industrial Lift Truck. He was always tinkering or building something in his spare time. I loved to go down to his basement in Lawndale and imagine myself running the table saw or operating the drill press. His shop was always clean and orderly.
In her early years, Grandmom was a cashier at a Sears lunch counter and was a lounge singer. While working the counter, she met Bill Formica. And despite his pending engagement, she won his heart and his love.
I do think they both took some perverse pleasure in waking up early and getting the day going. Especially when there were teenagers in the house that might be feeling less than stellar at 7 or 8 in the morning. I think grandmom triple vacuumed the floors on mornings that she suspected her grandchildren might have imbibed the night before. Both of them were constantly in motion. Grandmom usually spent her day preparing and cleaning up after meals. She might take a rest by doing laundry, catching crabs or scrubbing a bathroom, but she was constantly taking care of the family and friends that were with her.
Of course, they always made time for friends and family. How did they manage to have the fun that they did? They were professionals. From John Rose’s screened in garage to Honolulu, Hawaii, they managed to celebrate life. Their beach friends were hysterical and their cocktail parties were epic. The Rat Pack had nothing on the Sixth Street Crew.
The majority of the grandsons had the honor of dancing with their grandmother at their weddings. I know at mine, she was doing her energizer bunny imitation. She was a whirling dervish of energy, fueled by white wine and pasta.
Regardless of the how late they stayed out on Saturday night, they were at church on Sunday morning. Lesser mortals would be in intensive care from exhaustion and alcohol poisoning. Not them, they were cleaned, dressed and attentive for church. Furthermore, they looked like they enjoyed it. They didn’t miss a Sunday at St. Williams in Philadelphia or St Thomas of Villanova in Surf City.
On February 15, grandmom’s body finally gave in. A lifetime of motion had been slowly silenced. Her mind, as we understand it, was dying but her body, tempered by years of work continued. There were several gifts over the last few years, where grandmom would have a few hours of lucidity. I am thankful for those moments that she got to speak to her children.
And now, I am encouraged that she too is of restored mind and body. She is in heaven with no more pain, no more confusion, no more fear – she is whole once again. I’m encouraged that she is reunited with her husband in the immediate presence of God. I know that they can both look back, knowing they lived humbly, serving their family and their friends. They were faithful to their church. They worked for everything they had. I can’t imagine that they left with any regrets.
Their lives have left indelible marks on me. I miss them both every day.
On a Slow boat to China by Frank Loesser
I’d love to get you
On a slow boat to China
All to myself alone
Get you to keep you in my arms evermore
Leave all your lovelies
Weeping on a faraway shore.
Out on the briny
With the moon big and shiny
Melting your heart of stone.
I’d love to get you
On a slow boat to china
All to myself alone.
