Dear Hearts,
December 30th is the 11th anniversary of the death of our third patriarch (since we have been in the New World), Robert Mitchel Sullivan, born December 2, 1928, and died December 30, 2007.
He is the husband of Darlene Shajin Silva Sullivan, the son of John Jeremiah (Lefty, our first patriarch in America) and Anna Conick Sullivan. He is brother of James Patrick Sullivan, Sr. (Big Sully, our second patriarch), Sister Anna Rita Sullivan, Order of Preachers (Dominicans), and Sister Margaret Sullivan, Order of Preachers.
He is father of John, Jim, Bobby, Paul, Tim, Mike, Mary, Margaret, Ella and Peter, and the grandfather of 49 and great grandfather to 1!
Uncle Bob and Aunt Darlene lived one of the great love stories with forty years of marriage, a shining example to all of us. Individually and together, they brought to life the phrase, "There's always room for more!" In other words, all were welcome in their lives, their hearts and their home. Back in the mid 1970s, Uncle Bob scooped up three of us Sullivans from So Cal and brought us along with his own large bunch on a camping trip to Baja, Mexico!
He had the best voice--so kind and sure, and kept us riveted with his wonderful storytelling. But like his brother, my dad, when an injustice had occurred--look out! That voice was strong and sure.
We are so fortunate to have had him for those many years and his advice and influence lives on through his children, nieces, nephews and grandchildren. I know my parenting efforts are greatly informed by Uncle Bob and Aunt Darlene.
Thank you, Almighty God, for Bob Sullivan, husband, father, brother, son, grandfather, uncle, priest, warrior, counselor, and faithful servant of The Living God.
Uncle Bob's Legacy!God bless us and save us and keep us from harm.
Love, Patty
Below are Jim's beautiful recollections:
Bob was one of the heroes of the Battle of Cochabamba, as a civilian Catholic chaplain, where he was wounded, and later, he personally witnessed the spiriting away of the body of Che Guevara, in a helicopter, by American operatives (who supported the Catholics against the communists at the University) from a Bolivian arroyo.
When Booma, Grandma Sullivan, died, she left a little pile of money for each of her four living children. Bob and Big Sully turned their share down and transferred it instead to their sisters, who would only throw it in the communal pot of the Adrian Dominican Nuns, who would only send it into the field to feed the poor. The two brothers had nineteen children between them, but as they said, "We've got jobs."
He once told me that he knew he had the same heart ailment as his dad, and his brother, and I, and Blackie, and just wanted to live long enough to get the kids through school. He did that and more and lived to see 29 of his 48 grandchildren, whom he loved with all his valiant and often-repaired Irish American heart.
As he was dying, a new John Jeremiah was being born. They very well may have passed each other. The sheer poetry of that makes me choke up a bit.
When Bob's and Darlene's first child, John Jeremiah II, was taken away from us in 1980, when he was 11. None of us will ever get all the way over that. But Bob and Darlene, like Lefty and Anna, gave thanks at the funeral for John, and offered him back to God. Again. Darlene was as strong and brave then as Anna had been. Bob said she was his strength and his "Corazon."
Bob dreamed of John and asked him to come home, and as we all know, John told him once, in a dream, that he was home. That comforted Bob for the rest of his life.
After John died, some time went by, and then suddenly there was a new baby- the indomitable, unbelievable Pete. I remember thinking, maybe Pete is John. But there was more to unravel.
As Bob was heading out, dying, going back to the ancestors, back to be with his little son John Jeremiah, right then his newest grandson, Pete's and Melody's little baby boy, another John Jeremiah, again, was heading in to be born.
Bob left on 30 December, 2007. John Jeremiah arrived on 31 December, 2007. I hope they passed each other in some way of the Spirit, and maybe Bob passed the torch to this little boy. He is John Jeremiah Sullivan I, starting the numbers over again, and God willing, maybe he will someday be John Jeremiah Sullivan Senior.
Below is a poem he gave to me when I was ten, engraved on a medallion I wore around my neck. It is called The Cross, and he loved it and lived by it. He is my Godfather.
THE CROSS
Crux mihi certa salves,
Crux est quam semper adoro,
Crux Domini mecum,
Crux mihi refugium.
The Cross to me is certain salvation,
The Cross is what I always adore,
The Cross of the Lord is with me,
The Cross to me is a refuge.
