It has been said that we must not, in trying to think about how we can make a big difference, ignore the small daily differences we can make which, over time, add up to big differences that we often cannot foresee.
Mr. McNeany was a man, who believed in making the small difference, thus his funeral was a tribute attended my several thousand. We all remember his little acts of kindness as we sit shoulder to shoulder within a packed standing room only cathedral. How did he have time for all of us, his businesses, his wife and eight children and many grandchildren?
There is a Hebrew saying from the Talmud. It says, "Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire." He saved many with his kind deeds ...
It was a tribute befitting a fine man. I wonder what we all will do now. There are few business leaders like Mr. McNeany. If your husband died, he gave you a job. Hungry, he'd send groceries. Need a referral for a job? He'd write you a glowing report. He wrote one for every job I ever got.
In recent years at the cemetery, he would see me near my father's grave. "How are you sunshine?" he would yell. "Fine sir" I'd reply. As he moved closer he would ask "IS single motherhood treating you ok? Do you need anything?" "I am ok" I would always answer, even when I wasn't. It mattered that he be proud of me ... and think I could handle my life.
As I sat in the pew of the cathedral and listened to the readings and stories about Mr. McNeany's life, I pondered how different the business leaders are today. It is all about greed, profits and a golden parachute. So very different from this man we pay honor to on this Wednesday afternoon. A service that lasts two hours and spills out of the cathedral onto the street.
All the men dressed in their finest business suits, the women in dark dresses. They say Californians are too casual and disrespect with their dress at important events, but Mr. McNeany's funeral would prove this completely incorrect. All the men gave up seats for the women, so when the service began, one could cast their eyes around the standing-room-only crowd and find only men in suits standing proudly. It was Santa Rosa old school ... the "Coca Chanel" crowd ... dignified and lasting.
I remember the college parties at the McNeany home when Mr. McNeany would be in New York for the fall buying trip. A group of about 50 of us would converge on the McNeany compound, dressed to the nines, because in our college days we loved to dress up at night. We'd play pool, cards, drink and laugh and try to avoid being tossed in the glimmering swimming pool. All the girls wanted John ... I wanted Allen ... I was always different.
Sometimes we would go out dancing, other times make food in the kitchen. We were a group of people that liked and admired each other. I can say that I never heard one derogatory remark about anyone. In fact, a group of the guys tried like hell to make sure I wouldn't date Bob W. the x basketball star a few years older. They found him arrogant, bitter and bad news. Did I listen? Not at first - hey he was 6'7" - the first time I could wear five inch pumps and still reach up to kiss him. I felt small ... it was fun.
Until he opened his mouth. It didn't last long. I couldn't take the pressure from the group pointing out all his faults, which were hard to ignore. My brother handled it by bringing Rich around, who I found fascinatingly handsome. Ultimately, it would be Rich ... for almost 7 years.
As I sat staring towards the alter of the church these many memories flood my mind and I wonder where the years have gone. Denise sits next to me, leaning in, telling me who she sees. We all look so much older... where in the hell did all the grey hair come from? Denise is eyeing the men to see if there were any I could catch on their next go around ... what a nut.
The Wake after was held at the Polo clubhouse at Oakmont in the Valley of the Moon. Just like the parties at the McNeany's, there was plenty of food, drinks and laughter. Long lost friends hugged and reunited. Mr. McNeany would have loved it. It was good to see his children laughing and enjoying the tribute to their father.
It seems like yesterday when I too, walked that long church isle behind my father's coffin, and Laura stepped out from her family, took my hand and walked out with me. She is now married to Joe. It is funny the twists and turns our lives take. To this day I am still moved by Laura's friendship during my father's death and the weeks following. I could not have asked for a better friend. It is impressive because she was 18 at the time, and no one instructed her what to do, she just went with her feelings ... and probably saved me.
I hope all of us who loved Mr. McNeany helped the family as much as Laura did for me 28 years ago during a beautiful August when my father left this world.
All in all this was an emotional week. I was exhausted by the end, but made it through without wilting into bed. The meds seem to be working ... maybe it is the new luck of the Irish...
Until next time-
C
