The Foley's of The Orient
by Brian Foley
My grandfather was a wonderful man, who could paint a story with his words and facial expressions, and he was also a great cook/baker. He would whip up pies from scratch, and cook a huge amount of food for all of us to EAT!, which he would say to us after we've had seconds...or thirds! Yes, his cooking was that good. One spring night, while we were all visiting grandma and grandpa at their lake house in Kingsland TX, Papa put together a wonderful spaghetti dinner for all of us to enjoy. As we were finishing our second or third helping, depending on who you ask, my grandfather went into a story of how noodles were invented. "Noodles came from China", he said, "and the Italians cannot lay claim to inventing spaghetti. "Besides that", he chimed, "the Foley familys' Chinese relatives were one of those who helped invent noodles." "BULLSHYTE!" we yelled. With a straight face, he said, "no, our Oriental ancestors did indeed help invent the noodles that are now used by others in spaghetti dinners the world over." He then stood up, looking out over all of us at the table, and as he squinted his eyes, while bowing as if in China, and said..."They were known as the Foo-Lee's, a wah-so!"We all about pissed ourselves and laughed and laughed! One of many great memories I have of my Papa, Robert Ambroise Foley, and his Irish wit, or blarney, depending on who you ask!
The Last Hurrah-haha
by Brian Foley
My Papa was in the hospital, and we all knew he was not doing well. This was a little over a year after Sophia, his beloved wife had passed, so a broken heart was one of his ailments. The last time I saw him was in his hospital room, the cancer in his brain had him doing and saying wild things, but he would then come back to being ol' Papa. As I sat with him in the room that night, he proceeded to tell me that the mayor, the police chief and city planners of Austin had met with him in the closet in his room, asking for advice on how to make the city safer. I asked what they talked about, and he told me that it was top secret, but he would look to see if I could be brought in as an adviser, which would bring me into the inner circle of the safety committee. He then told me he had to get up and call the mayor now, so that we could make this happen. With the IV still attached to his arm, he started to get out of bed. I had to gently ask him to stay put until I could get a nurse to bring us a phone. He kept trying to get up, saying it was urgent. I was able to convince him to stay seated while I went to get someone to assist us. I left the room, quietly, but frantically trying to find someone to help me. It was around 11pm at night, and the halls were empty. I finally found a nurse, who was not feeling the urgency as I was, but she said that she would come help in a few minutes. I walked back to Papa's room and found him sitting up. I let him know that a nurse would be in soon to help us out. He laid back down in his bed, and looked at me with a gentle smile. "How are Terry, Nolan and that red headed handsome boy Brogan, doing?" I let him know my wife and kids were doing great, and that they were thinking of him. "That's good, I really love them", he said, smiling. The nurse came in, checked on Papa, asked if he needed anything, and he said, "yes, some Jello please." She left and we continued to talk for about 15-20 minutes. As I was leaving, I gave my Papa a kiss, and told him I loved him very much. He said, " I love you too Bri." I walked out of the room, crying happy tears, yet having the feeling that this might be the last time I see Papa alive. Later that night, while my entire family was out at the lake house, the phone rang at 3am. It was the hospital, letting us know that Papa had transitioned...we cried, told stories of Papa, laughed, and cried some more before heading back to bed. As I reflected that morning while sitting on the front porch, with a cup of coffee, I realized what I had received that night at the hospital. My Papa gave me some of his Irish humor, and all of his love, to me and my family. I still laugh a little, and cry a bit, when thinking of this night. But, what a gift, to have Papa say he loved me...Bri