Robert John Grace

My Father, By David Grace, Sr.

My Dad was born at the height of the depression in Manhattan, New York. I remember him telling us

stories of his childhood to make us understand how good we all had it. His childhood home was in

Coytesville, NJ which he referred to as a town of “Working Poor”. In My Dad’s Memoir, he wrote that

“Coytesville was a great place to grow up,” “lots of fields and woods for exploring, building forts,

damming up streams, and getting into minor mischief.” He spoke of his childhood often, as the

conversation would always pertain to something relevant to whatever me and my brothers just screwed

up.

My dad was a dedicated father and husband, who was challenged constantly by four boys with four

different personalities and interests. He struggled with this as we reached our teens. I was always a bit

of an expert at flying under the radar when it came to staying out of trouble, he was a bit of a

disciplinarian. All he had to do was give you “the look” to get his message across, there was little

negotiating from that point forward.

He always had a lot to say about working hard, as well as being responsible morally and financially. It

was a constant drum beat to me and my brothers. Contributing time to the household chores was also

high on the list. Being the oldest of four boys, I was expected to perform at a higher level. I would help

my dad to build retaining walls, paint the house, shovel the driveway, dump runs, lumberjacking etc. You

name it, we did it. Me and my brothers worked our butts off around the house and the community. I will

admit it caused a lot of consternation between me and my dad. While my friends in the Neiborhood

were enjoying their summers, I was working my tail off. One summer I will never forget was the summer

my dad offered to put in a pool. There was a catch though. If we wanted a pool (and what kid wouldn't!)

we had to dig the hole! We lived in Medfield, MA. Anyone who lives or has lived in that part of the

country knows what digging a hole means. We got started on that hole in the beginning of summer

vacation. We essentially had to cut a wedge in the backyard to create a flat spot for the pool. The New

England ground did not disappoint. About ¾ through the excavation we hit a boulder the size of a

Volkswagen Bug. I was crushed. My dad was not going to bring in an excavator to remove it, too much

money. After some research, he devised an idea. We built a bonfire on top of that boulder; we fed that

fire for 2 days. That boulder was red hot. My father walked up to it and threw a bucket of cold water on

it and that boulder exploded! We went at it with sledgehammers and chisels, and got it removed. It took

all summer to dig that hole, but we got it done in time to have a brief swimming season before Fall set

in.

Our family dynamic was pretty simple. My dad was the hammer, my mom, the shield. They loved each

other very much; it was an unbreakable bond. There were no negotiations with one or the other, they

made decisions as one, and that never changed.

Throughout my upbringing, dad was a recruiter for chemical engineers. He did quite well with his career

until the early 1980’s, then the economy turned. They had an opportunity to purchase a restaurant from

my uncle in Florida. They made the decision to relocate to Florida and change things up around 1986-87.

My wife Lauren and I had moved to Florida in 1985. I helped my dad through the many challenges of

owning a restaurant. My father was always fiercely independent in life and in business, which caused

problems for him, my mother, and the whole family. The restaurant business was not the best career

move for him, and I think he would have been the first to admit it. They eventually sold the store and

retired.

Later life presented many health challenges for both of my parents. They were incredibly supportive of

each other as they faced their challenges together. It was difficult to watch the aging process take hold

of them both. They stayed positive in life and remained very active with the church and the support of

each other. We lost my mom to a stroke on 10/15/2017. This was devastating to the family and my

father especially. He was lost without my mom.

My dad was always good at life planning. I learned to appreciate what that meant, and entailed, as the

years marched on. I became my dad's POA in 2017 with Brian, Kevin and Steven on deck respectively, if I were to reach an untimely end. I really had no idea what that entailed until my dad's condition

deteriorated. A once fiercely independent man became incapable of taking care of himself. This

frustrated him to no end. The last act he was able to accomplish on his own was to move out of his

home in The Springs community in Longwood, FL. This was a difficult process for me, because he had no

attachment to anything from the past. I don’t possess that characteristic. A lifetime of memories was

either sold, given away or thrown out. What little remained was boxed up and moved with him to a

retirement community. Things went predictably until his first fall, which was proceeded by second. Both

resulted in a fractured, and then a broken hip which required surgery. He rehabilitated from both falls,

but his mobility became limited and painful. He lost most of his short-term memory throughout this

time period, which only exacerbated his frustration with his life and condition. He expressed to me on

many occasions over the past year that he didn’t see the purpose of continuing on. In supporting him

through this time period, I understood that. As difficult as the past two years have been for my dad, for

me and my family, it was my true honor to care for him. I got to know a side of him in his fragile state

that he never exposed during the healthy years. There was a kind and vulnerable person that was hiding

under the surface. We had many disagreements over the years, and our relationship was tenuous at

best for many of those years. Still, I always loved and respected him as my father. My mom would

always say; “your father did the best he could do with you boys”. I believe that to be true...

My dad was a loving husband, father, grandfather, great grandfather, eagle scout, veteran, scout leader,

gardener, beekeeper, marathon runner, businessman and an all-around no muss, no fuss kind of guy. He

never minced his words, which he probably could have on occasion.

God Bless you Dad, you will be missed.

“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you” (Exodus 20:12).

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.woodlawnfuneralhomegotha.com for the Grace family.