I wrote this right after Stuarts passing and sent it to Karen first because I was not ready to post it, somewhat in denial.
It is a bit long but Stuart and I go back along time, longer than even Karen. Stuart meant everything to me as a friend as did his whole extended family.
Stuart was and is my best friend, and I will always treasure and celebrate the times we had together.
In addition to his superior qualities as a friend, he was a wonderful husband, father, brother and son. Sue, Karen, Benjamin, Alison, Betsy, Douglas, Tom, Hank, and Ann loved and cared for him right up to the end. He always put family first and I’m sure he knew they were all there with and for him, until he was sure they could handle his passing. They will miss him terribly but will remember the best times they had together forever.
Over the past few weeks, I have read some of the shared emails from friends and family. Kathy, I loved being reminded of the barefoot Stuart. I also have Stuart in sandals, in my memories.
There has been repeated mention of a common understanding that Stuart was a man of deep feelings and thoughts, but not of unnecessary words.
A story that typifies this was at Andrea’s and my wedding. Stuart was my best man. According to his feelings as a best friend, he had prepared a heart-felt toast, and I believe he had a hand-written version of this tucked into his tux pocket. The reception began, it went on, I think he got more nervous, the moment came for his toast and he clutched. The ‘best man’ protocol got the better of him, and he just couldn’t do it- too much attention, too many expectations, too much emotion? Luckily for him, our other “best friend”, Maid of Honor, Cammy Watts, stepped up to the plate and delivered the Toast. It has been an ongoing joke over the years with us all, but I know in my heart what he would have said; he didn’t have to say anything.
Stuart and I grew up together through those critical teenage years, since eighth grade when we met and formed an instant and inseparable bond. I was immediately made to feel like one of his family, and he likewise a member of mine. My parents had seven children and always had room for one more, Stuart. Sometimes I think they never noticed there was one more of us. Sue became my “other mother”, Betsy another much-needed, wiser older sister, and Douglas, a pesky but loveable little brother that grew on me.
Stuart and I vacationed together in Chatham, Scituate, Okemo and Gunstock as teenagers. Later as adults in Falmouth, Mattapoisett, Sunday River and Crested Butte.
We did everything together and learned so much of life with each other. All the important things : waterskiing (we were both pretty good), and driving (our first cars - his blue Impala convertible, my blue Plymouth Fury convertible- we were way cool), off-roading in my Jeep- we rolled it on Sandy Neck beach. The Jeep was totaled but we were fine. Girls eventually came into our lives. Karen became the love of his life and she was lucky enough to get me in the deal too. And excuse me Andrea, but Laurie may have entered the picture for awhile also. As another true friend, she never left.
Stuart gave me the courage and confidence to try new things, for good
and bad. We took his boat from Chatham to Nantucket in pea-soup fog, navigating by the seat of our pants; we knew it was east. We took my father’s boat with explicit orders not to go far. With Betsy, Karen and Michael Sullivan on board, we managed somehow to end up in Provincetown, weathered in for the night. Not wanting to call our parents and let them know we may have wandered too far off-course. We finally had to call and tell them we were stuck for the night. We were all too afraid to call Mrs. Musser, Karen’s mother, so we delegated that job to my mother. We claimed we ran out of change, no cell phones in those days.
We sailed together quite a bit, and Andy and I even sailed with them on their honeymoon. I’m pretty sure they wanted us there. As I said before, we were inseparable. Karen, sorry if we imposed at that romantic time!
When we sailed, even though he was much more capable than I, we rarely had to speak because we knew what each other was doing and trusted each other to do it right. We knew the right place to be at the
right time and knew each other would be there. It could be a gale leaving Marion Harbor, trimming and reefing sails without a word, something about the keel hitting a rock while trying to do three things at once, no damage, but the look we gave each other as the boat shuddered will never be forgotten. We knew we had each other’s back and trusted each other implicitly. As green water flowed over the bow crossing Buzzards Bay, we began to think maybe we got ourselves in over our heads on that trip. Skill, lots of luck and belief in each other got us through. Stuart liked to sail into harbors under full sail, forget the engine, don’t tell Karen, and she’ll never know either of us might have been a bit nervous.
We learned to ski together, and skied a lot. My parents bought Stuart a Season’s Pass at Gunstock as a member of our family. Stuart Kelley? We conquered blue ice in New England (Betsy, be glad you were out of our way as we “boogied” down that ice, aiming directly at you). Douglas was younger and maybe naturally more athletic. He spent a winter making snow and skiing at Sugarbush, but we out-skied him as only big brothers should do. Powder out west, and steeps that caused vertigo at Crested Butte. We were usually only two turns behind each other, and he only ran me over once when I fell.
Another time he sat with me waiting for the Ski Patrol to get me down the mountain when I needed about 30 staples to stitch my leg back together. I sat trailside with him waiting for the Patrol toboggan to get him down the slope with a broken collarbone. We skied the woods at Okemo, totally out of bounds. If we were doing something illegal, it gave us courage. Or maybe just stupidity and bravado gave us the courage. It was wonderful, young, foolish, invincibility. And we loved it.
We were best men at each other’s weddings and raised our children together. We’ve known each other’s kids since well before they were born. Karen and Stuart beat us all to the punch when they had Benjamin first. Alison and our daughter Annie are the same age, and both graduated from college on May 20 this year. Stuart is Annie’s godfather, and we have always believed he was the best thing in terms of non-religious guidance. We know he will be watching over both of them as they grow up into great young women.
As adulthood came upon us, our friendship never diminished. I do regret, though, that I postponed a sail, a fishing trip, a dinner, a day of playing hookie from our jobs to ski, always thinking we had time to reschedule. I figured we could make it up, if one of us was too busy with kids or work. There was always tomorrow or next week or next year. The connection never was lost in terms of our friendship, but I do miss those days we could have had: fun, trusting, comfortable, friend days.
I will forever miss him. He will always be my Fourth brother. He will always be a family member, as I hope I can still be a member of his.
He is, was, and always will be my best friend.
When we hopefully meet up in the after life, if you believe in that, I know he will greet me with that wedding toast.
Sue, Karen, Ben, Alison, Betsy, Douglas, Tom and Ann. Love you all,
Bill Kelley
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Alison's Introduction
My Dad and I share a lot of characteristics.
One thing is that we could both appreciate that when we were together - we didn't feel the need to talk all the time. Because for us, comfort in silence and the unspoken was just as important.
So I didn't prepare a speech for today-because he knows it all.
Instead, I'm going to share a poem, "When I Sail Away."
One thing is that we could both appreciate that when we were together - we didn't feel the need to talk all the time. Because for us, comfort in silence and the unspoken was just as important.
So I didn't prepare a speech for today-because he knows it all.
Instead, I'm going to share a poem, "When I Sail Away."
When I Sail Away
When I Sail Away Sometime at eve when the tide is low, I shall slip my mooring and sail away, With no response to the friendly hail Of kindred craft in busy bay. In the silent hush of the twilight pale When the night stoops down to embrace the day And the voices call in the water’s flow… Sometime at eve when the tide is low I shall slip my mooring and sail away. Through the purpling shadows that darkly trail O’er the ebbing tide of the Unknown Sea, I shall fare me away, with a dip of the sail And ripple of waters to tell the tale Of a lonely voyager, sailing away To the Mystic Isles where at anchor lay The crafts of those who have sailed before O’er the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore. A few who have watched me sail away, Will miss my craft from the busy bay; Some friendly barks that were anchored near, Some loving souls that my heart held dear, In silent sorrow will drop a tear- But I shall have peacefully furled my sail In moorings sheltered from storm or gale, And greeted the friends who have sailed before, O’er the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore. By Elizabeth Clark Hardy |
Karen's Words
First, I’d like to thank you all for coming here today. Stuart would have never believed how many people are here, and quite frankly, I think he would have been a bit embarrassed. Stuart has always been an independent, humble, and quiet man. He never liked a fuss to be made over him. Yet during the past seven months he let his children, myself, his brother, sister and mother take care of him in ways that none of us would have ever imagined possible. While at times frustrated with all the hovering we did, he let us help him and take care of him during his illness, and for us that was truly a gift. I believe it was a gift for him as well, even though I know at times it must have been difficult for him.
I’m not going to talk today about what a wonderful husband, confidant, friend, and father of my children Stuart was to me. I think you all know how I feel about Stuart. Instead, I would like to talk to you about what I’ve learned about Stuart, the meaning of his life, and about life in general from all of you during the past 7 months. Whether through emails, phone calls, cards, conversations in the hospital, afternoon visits at our home in Medway, or, more recently, on the blog, you all have not only supported me, but you have talked to me about Stuart, the way he lived his life, the person he was, and how he has influenced your lives.
One of the recurring themes that I have heard is in reference to Stuart’s calmness and inner strength. For years, many of my friends in high school and college referred to him as “quiet and solid”. I have always called him my “Rock of Gibraltar”. And what I’ve heard from many of you is that this inner strength and calmness also affected you and your lives. I have to say I was amazed when I realized this. For I thought that I, and hopefully our children, were the only ones who reaped the benefits of Stuart’s solid foundation. I truly believe that I would not be the person that I am today, if it were not for his unfailing strength and quiet, subtle support. Whether I was walking through tall grass (“Stuart, eek, the snakes!”), sailing in gale force winds (ok, it’s true I needed his calmness to sail on any given day!), skiing down a way too steep slope (You can do it, Karen, just follow me, and do what I do!) , taking graduate classes while working full time and raising a family (“ok Karen I’ll clean the house while you study”)or teaching a college class for the first time in Bermuda ( ”sure you can do it, you’re a born teacher”!) I have always known that without Stuart I would not be the person that I am today, nor would I have experienced life as fully.
Stuart was a man of many passions. He thoroughly enjoyed life. He loved his family, building, sailing, almost anything to do with the ocean, wooden boats, old boats, old cars, old houses, old tools (actually, he loved almost anything old, except growing old!), architecture, art, music (especially folk music), and more recently scuba diving. I often envied his ability to feel so passionately about so much of life. Many of you, as you visited us, mentioned one or more of these passions, in your stories and reminiscing. At the same time, you often told me how much you admired Stuart’s decision to follow his dream, and to make one of his passions his career. In 1979, when offered a job for a large company where he had been doing his college work-study experience, Stuart told me that he did not want to work in such a pressure cooker environment. So when he embarked upon looking for a job, he decided to search in the boating industry, because it was something that he loved. He found a job and became general manger of the Better Boating Association, then in Needham. Several years later, when he decided he needed a change, he again followed his heart, and decided to go into business with his brother, Douglas, pursuing another one of his passions, building. Many of you have told me how much you admired that decision that he made. While not easy at first, over time the business expanded and the reputation of the Whitla Brothers grew. Stuart always felt, and I have heard him say many times to our children and their friends, “if you follow your heart, and are honest and true to yourself and others, you will be happy, and the rest will come.”
Stuart lived his short life of 52 years without regrets. He followed his heart, both in his family life and in his career, and it comforts me to know that many of you recognize that in him. It, also, comforts me to know that while he was here on earth with us; his time was spent pursuing his passions. That is one of the many things I love about him. I am grateful to have been his girlfriend, wife, best friend, and mother of his children for these past 35 years, and I know I speak for us all when I say “We miss you, Stuart.”
I’m not going to talk today about what a wonderful husband, confidant, friend, and father of my children Stuart was to me. I think you all know how I feel about Stuart. Instead, I would like to talk to you about what I’ve learned about Stuart, the meaning of his life, and about life in general from all of you during the past 7 months. Whether through emails, phone calls, cards, conversations in the hospital, afternoon visits at our home in Medway, or, more recently, on the blog, you all have not only supported me, but you have talked to me about Stuart, the way he lived his life, the person he was, and how he has influenced your lives.
One of the recurring themes that I have heard is in reference to Stuart’s calmness and inner strength. For years, many of my friends in high school and college referred to him as “quiet and solid”. I have always called him my “Rock of Gibraltar”. And what I’ve heard from many of you is that this inner strength and calmness also affected you and your lives. I have to say I was amazed when I realized this. For I thought that I, and hopefully our children, were the only ones who reaped the benefits of Stuart’s solid foundation. I truly believe that I would not be the person that I am today, if it were not for his unfailing strength and quiet, subtle support. Whether I was walking through tall grass (“Stuart, eek, the snakes!”), sailing in gale force winds (ok, it’s true I needed his calmness to sail on any given day!), skiing down a way too steep slope (You can do it, Karen, just follow me, and do what I do!) , taking graduate classes while working full time and raising a family (“ok Karen I’ll clean the house while you study”)or teaching a college class for the first time in Bermuda ( ”sure you can do it, you’re a born teacher”!) I have always known that without Stuart I would not be the person that I am today, nor would I have experienced life as fully.
Stuart was a man of many passions. He thoroughly enjoyed life. He loved his family, building, sailing, almost anything to do with the ocean, wooden boats, old boats, old cars, old houses, old tools (actually, he loved almost anything old, except growing old!), architecture, art, music (especially folk music), and more recently scuba diving. I often envied his ability to feel so passionately about so much of life. Many of you, as you visited us, mentioned one or more of these passions, in your stories and reminiscing. At the same time, you often told me how much you admired Stuart’s decision to follow his dream, and to make one of his passions his career. In 1979, when offered a job for a large company where he had been doing his college work-study experience, Stuart told me that he did not want to work in such a pressure cooker environment. So when he embarked upon looking for a job, he decided to search in the boating industry, because it was something that he loved. He found a job and became general manger of the Better Boating Association, then in Needham. Several years later, when he decided he needed a change, he again followed his heart, and decided to go into business with his brother, Douglas, pursuing another one of his passions, building. Many of you have told me how much you admired that decision that he made. While not easy at first, over time the business expanded and the reputation of the Whitla Brothers grew. Stuart always felt, and I have heard him say many times to our children and their friends, “if you follow your heart, and are honest and true to yourself and others, you will be happy, and the rest will come.”
Stuart lived his short life of 52 years without regrets. He followed his heart, both in his family life and in his career, and it comforts me to know that many of you recognize that in him. It, also, comforts me to know that while he was here on earth with us; his time was spent pursuing his passions. That is one of the many things I love about him. I am grateful to have been his girlfriend, wife, best friend, and mother of his children for these past 35 years, and I know I speak for us all when I say “We miss you, Stuart.”
Betsy's Words
Thank you all for coming to help us honor Stuart.
Even as a child, Stuart was a “go to” kind of guy. He was the kid who would take things apart just for the joy of putting them back together and truly - he could fix anything. Our Mom tells a great story of when a neighbor called our house saying that they were having a problem with their garage door. Apparently it was stuck halfway. They wanted Stuart to come take a look at it. My mother asked….., didn’t they mean they wanted Skip (our Dad) to come look at it? The neighbor said noooo……, they wanted Stuart. Stuart was only 10 years old.
What some of you may not know, is that Tom and I bought our first house in Medfield with Stuart and Karen. The four of us felt strongly that we wanted to take an old house and bring it back to life. Stuart always felt that houses had souls, so he began to search for a two family home - in a great town and in TOTAL disrepair. He found a great old farmhouse with broken windows, a bad roof and blankets separating the first and second floors. He convinced us with unfailing optimism that we could rebuild this house. That room by room we would do this….. ourselves .So we did. We lived in that house for four years, until our families started to outgrow it. I believe that is when Stuart decided he had found his calling while the other three of us knew our talents lay somewhere else.
We have found throughout Stuart’s illness, many reasons to be grateful….
We have always known in our family that every day is a gift. We were given the opportunity to truly live that for 7 months with Stuart.
We are grateful for the incomparable love pouring from extended family and friends.
When Stuart first entered the hospital, there were pumpkin breads, soups and meals left on Karen and Stuart’s porch meant to sustain our family throughout long hospital stays.
There were many flowers sent to remind all of us that we are loved and supported, cards and letters, endless phone calls all with words of love, understanding, encouragement and support.
We are grateful for Stuart’s doctors and nurses who worked with us for long hours both in the hospital and on the phone helping our family understand, cope and make decisions that were ALWAYS…. the best for Stuart.
We are grateful that Stuart was given the time to go home from the hospital on Alison’s birthday in time for Christmas. Grateful for Easter by the ocean in Plymouth with our whole family and Stuart feeling strong. We were all thrilled when Stuart and Karen, with the help of several wonderful friends, were given the opportunity to get to Antigua for a few days and were grateful to get him back home again safely.
In Stuart’s final weeks, we were again given unimaginable support with loving friends who came to visit with Stuart and our family so that he would NEVER be alone.
One quiet afternoon in January Stuart and I talked about what it meant to live every day to the fullest. He said if you’d asked him that before his illness, he would have said….. to travel endlessly all over the world. Since his illness….. he felt very differently. On any given weekend he would normally be busy doing any one of the hobbies he enjoyed. If someone had just dropped in to visit – he would have been happy to see them, but felt his weekend time was interrupted…so much to do you know…. now…. in the midst of a terminal illness, he was grateful for every dear friend and family member who took time out from their busy day to come and spend time visiting with him. He said THAT was living every moment to the fullest………….
Even as a child, Stuart was a “go to” kind of guy. He was the kid who would take things apart just for the joy of putting them back together and truly - he could fix anything. Our Mom tells a great story of when a neighbor called our house saying that they were having a problem with their garage door. Apparently it was stuck halfway. They wanted Stuart to come take a look at it. My mother asked….., didn’t they mean they wanted Skip (our Dad) to come look at it? The neighbor said noooo……, they wanted Stuart. Stuart was only 10 years old.
What some of you may not know, is that Tom and I bought our first house in Medfield with Stuart and Karen. The four of us felt strongly that we wanted to take an old house and bring it back to life. Stuart always felt that houses had souls, so he began to search for a two family home - in a great town and in TOTAL disrepair. He found a great old farmhouse with broken windows, a bad roof and blankets separating the first and second floors. He convinced us with unfailing optimism that we could rebuild this house. That room by room we would do this….. ourselves .So we did. We lived in that house for four years, until our families started to outgrow it. I believe that is when Stuart decided he had found his calling while the other three of us knew our talents lay somewhere else.
We have found throughout Stuart’s illness, many reasons to be grateful….
We have always known in our family that every day is a gift. We were given the opportunity to truly live that for 7 months with Stuart.
We are grateful for the incomparable love pouring from extended family and friends.
When Stuart first entered the hospital, there were pumpkin breads, soups and meals left on Karen and Stuart’s porch meant to sustain our family throughout long hospital stays.
There were many flowers sent to remind all of us that we are loved and supported, cards and letters, endless phone calls all with words of love, understanding, encouragement and support.
We are grateful for Stuart’s doctors and nurses who worked with us for long hours both in the hospital and on the phone helping our family understand, cope and make decisions that were ALWAYS…. the best for Stuart.
We are grateful that Stuart was given the time to go home from the hospital on Alison’s birthday in time for Christmas. Grateful for Easter by the ocean in Plymouth with our whole family and Stuart feeling strong. We were all thrilled when Stuart and Karen, with the help of several wonderful friends, were given the opportunity to get to Antigua for a few days and were grateful to get him back home again safely.
In Stuart’s final weeks, we were again given unimaginable support with loving friends who came to visit with Stuart and our family so that he would NEVER be alone.
One quiet afternoon in January Stuart and I talked about what it meant to live every day to the fullest. He said if you’d asked him that before his illness, he would have said….. to travel endlessly all over the world. Since his illness….. he felt very differently. On any given weekend he would normally be busy doing any one of the hobbies he enjoyed. If someone had just dropped in to visit – he would have been happy to see them, but felt his weekend time was interrupted…so much to do you know…. now…. in the midst of a terminal illness, he was grateful for every dear friend and family member who took time out from their busy day to come and spend time visiting with him. He said THAT was living every moment to the fullest………….
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Ben's Short Words
people had been asking for them, i think, so here you go:
i just have a short bit to say about my dad.
ever since i was little, and then all the way up until now, someone is always asking who who your hero is. for my entire life, i never even thought twice about who my hero was. kids would always answer "superman" or "batman" or some other ridiculous fake person.. but i always knew... without a second of hesitation, that my hero was my dad.
i've never answered this question any other way, and it's never even crossed my mind that there COULD be another answer.
to me, he could always solve any problem. he always had the level headed solution. he always had the intelligent choice. he always had the well considered plan. i have always been convinced that no matter what went wrong, no matter how badly i messed things up, he was there.. a superhero ready to swoop in and take care of things. i was never scared to venture out into anything, because i knew my dad, even when far away, could save me from anything. he always knew how to fix it, or how to deal with it.. no matter what it was.
my dad is my hero.
i just have a short bit to say about my dad.
ever since i was little, and then all the way up until now, someone is always asking who who your hero is. for my entire life, i never even thought twice about who my hero was. kids would always answer "superman" or "batman" or some other ridiculous fake person.. but i always knew... without a second of hesitation, that my hero was my dad.
i've never answered this question any other way, and it's never even crossed my mind that there COULD be another answer.
to me, he could always solve any problem. he always had the level headed solution. he always had the intelligent choice. he always had the well considered plan. i have always been convinced that no matter what went wrong, no matter how badly i messed things up, he was there.. a superhero ready to swoop in and take care of things. i was never scared to venture out into anything, because i knew my dad, even when far away, could save me from anything. he always knew how to fix it, or how to deal with it.. no matter what it was.
my dad is my hero.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Peter Chase's Welcome
We are so grateful to Peter Chase for opening up his church and his heart to us after Stuart's death. His thoughtful, elegant prose brought just the right kind of spirituality to the service, and his words at the beginning and the end of the service provided just the right, subtle structure we sought. Here are the words of his welcome that day.
I am Peter Chase and serve as the rector of Saint Mary’s where I first met Stuart and Doug as they worked within this sanctuary in 1996.
Today you can see the results of their craftsmanship with the restoration of the lower facade as you entered the church, and now as you look at the altar and East wall, the gentle roundness of the arches, the strength and beauty of the columns. These are both reminders of Stuart’s appreciation for simplicity and grace.
Stuart once told me he felt at peace within this sacred space and I pray that we too may discover a sense of serenity as we remember him today. Stuart appreciated the beauty of life and he added to it with great skill and affection. This is a service to celebrate all that Stuart cared for, and all that he has meant to us. And we do this, not to be overwhelmed by our loss, but to meet the days ahead with hope and gratitude as we recall all that he loved and cherished.
Stuart possessed a genuine concern for the welfare of others and may we also carry that spirit with us. May we care for those things Stuart cared for and love those things he loved so that in our own lives, his life may live on.
There is a collect in The Book of Common Prayer which says that God knows our needs even before we have the need to ask. It says we do not need to invoke God's presence for God is already with us. And I believe this is true for us today as we remember Stuart.And may our presence here be of support to Karen, Ben and Alison, Doug, Betsy and their mother and all of the Whitla family. May all of us be knit together in kindness and respect for the fragility of life and the power of the Spirit.
I am Peter Chase and serve as the rector of Saint Mary’s where I first met Stuart and Doug as they worked within this sanctuary in 1996.
Today you can see the results of their craftsmanship with the restoration of the lower facade as you entered the church, and now as you look at the altar and East wall, the gentle roundness of the arches, the strength and beauty of the columns. These are both reminders of Stuart’s appreciation for simplicity and grace.
Stuart once told me he felt at peace within this sacred space and I pray that we too may discover a sense of serenity as we remember him today. Stuart appreciated the beauty of life and he added to it with great skill and affection. This is a service to celebrate all that Stuart cared for, and all that he has meant to us. And we do this, not to be overwhelmed by our loss, but to meet the days ahead with hope and gratitude as we recall all that he loved and cherished.
Stuart possessed a genuine concern for the welfare of others and may we also carry that spirit with us. May we care for those things Stuart cared for and love those things he loved so that in our own lives, his life may live on.
There is a collect in The Book of Common Prayer which says that God knows our needs even before we have the need to ask. It says we do not need to invoke God's presence for God is already with us. And I believe this is true for us today as we remember Stuart.And may our presence here be of support to Karen, Ben and Alison, Doug, Betsy and their mother and all of the Whitla family. May all of us be knit together in kindness and respect for the fragility of life and the power of the Spirit.
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