On October 17, 1927, a baby boy named Bernard was born to Thomas and Mary Tarpey, and boy were we lucky as he turned out to be one heck of a son, brother, friend, husband of almost 61 years, and an even better father.  As hard as dad worked he always managed to make time for four kids, and maybe mom, although we’re not sure, because the moment he walked through the door one or more of us would be telling him we needed his help or wanted his attention, which he always seemed to give.  In fact, often times he would be intercepted on his walk home from work, usually by Debbie, after hearing the 4 o’clock shift change whistle go off at the RR, which of course didn’t please the rest of us.    He was always a hands-on dad, not just a father figure in the background.  In our minds, there was nothing he couldn’t fix, build, or help us accomplish.  One of the first things we learned was that dad could usually fix anything that broke, saving many a melt-down.  He could also build anything we challenged him to from school projects, go-carts (the winning type of course), tree forts, train layouts he really enjoyed building with Kevin, and countless other projects, including those requiring creative solutions.   

We didn’t offer dad much of a break when it came to outdoor activities either.  In the summer, when the 4:00 whistle blew, dad would rush home, jump into a bathing suit and head down to Silver Lake to meet mom and us for some swimming. We eventually had a boat which added a whole new activity dad had to fit into his already overstuffed schedule.   Boat rides became the thing to do, and learning to water ski followed.  Brian became the expert, but even dad managed to give it a try with some degree of success, which included getting up on his first try.  It didn’t matter how windy it was, against dad’s recommendation, we would still pile into the car, and drive to the Yacht Club, hoping to go water skiing only to be gazing across the all too choppy water dad had already told us would be there.  Back home we would go, time and time again.  Winter brought evening ice skating at the Duck Pond, sledding at the Croton Dam, and learning to ski at Fahnstock.   Now that we could ski, the summer vacation home upstate became a winter vacation home too.  Dad would drive us upstate and upon arrival we would go shopping in a warm store for food, while leaving dad behind to dig a path to the house in 3 to 4 foot deep snow, build and light the fire in the fireplace, scrape the snow off the porch roof, and upon our arrival back, would help us unload the car.  This usually was for a weekend ski trip only.  Did I mention it was a 3 ½ hour car ride to get there?  I think you can already tell the kind of dad we were so lucky to have.

Dad was involved not only as a family man but also in the community and his workplace.  He was a volunteer Fire Fighter for 50 years, a member of the VFW and would lead the local parade which we were always proud to point out to anyone around, that that was our dad.  Working for Metro-North RR, he was respected and admired, moving up the ranks and finally, after 41 years, retired as Director of Skilled Training.  Numerous people sought out his assistance in gaining employment with the RR, and to this day, cannot thank him enough.  Now that he was retired, he had time to become somewhat of a golfer and continued to be blessed with a total of 6 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren.  He led a life that exemplified everything needed to be a man that could look in the mirror and be proud of the man looking back.

Strength… thank goodness that was something he possessed!  His belief in God and his faith was evident by his weekly attendance at Sunday mass with the family.  Physical strength was obvious, for example, as we watched him build an entire extension on our house by himself.  We also enjoyed listening to him brag about his younger days walking around the city block on his hands, and being able to bend extra-large nails with his hands.  Throughout his life he has battled and beat numerous cancers, including melanoma, which many would not have.  But it really became apparent just how strong he was when he was diagnosed with Mesothelioma in January of 2013, at the age of 85.  The prognosis he was given came with a very short life expectancy.  But, you have to remember, this is true of Mesothelioma for an ordinary man, but dad was no ordinary man and once again his strength became apparent.  While battling Mesothelioma, he was faced with the most painful loss he could have ever imagined, the loss of mom, who was everything to him.  At that moment, all he wanted to do was give up so he could be with her.  However, his strength again became apparent as he realized how much we needed him and he needed us, so the fight went on.  16 months later, after beating all life expectancy predictions, he even blew the doors off the final predictions of numerous hospice nurses, leaving them completely baffled and amazed, stating he was an anomaly and could not understand how he could possibly be able to sustain life.  He was just that strong! 

In the end, his strength and his faith in God has given us strength too.  Although he is no longer with us, we know he is no longer in pain and he will once again be re-united with mom in Heaven. 

Dad, we’re going to miss you, we love you, and until our time comes to be with you and mom again, we will be comforted knowing that you will be watching over us.