Peter C. Catari



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GREECE: Pete went peacefully to the Lord surrounded by his loving family on Friday, November 23, 2007. Beloved father of daughter, Debra A. Catari; son, David Catari (Nancy B. Calocerinos); mother of his children, Celia J. Catari; 4 grandchildren; 10 great-grandchildren; several nieces and nephews. Predeceased by his parents, Pasquale Catarinacci and Cesidia (Lippa) Catarinacci; sisters, Angela Mancini, Eleanor Tisa and Susan Cumbo; close friend, Mildred Johnston. Pete was a World War II Army Veteran serving in the European Theater, Liege, Belgium and the Battle of the Bulge. Pete was awarded both the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart for his dedicated, honest and faithful service to his country. Pete worked for 20 years as a welder and Union Shop Steward ‘Scottie’ at the Atlantic Stamping Company. This was followed by 20 years in sales at Rusmur Floors, Inc., where he retired in 1983. Pete was a past member of the Arrowhead Golf Club. A special thank you to the compassionate family and friends who accompanied Dad on his journey home. Dad, you lived strong. I love you.


  1. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dad, As the pages turned on the calendar, they reminded me of how much time has passed since you slipped from this earthly life. My ‘year of firsts’ is behind me now. I have reached the winter of my grief. Because of you, I have never felt like I must walk this world alone. I have been surrounded with people who care, who try to understand, who put no demands on me. Honorable mention should be given to Bill Clancy and Jim Mazzota who have supported me both emotionally and with their labors at Brush Hollow. Just like you, they somehow made it all fun. Thank you for the joy you had brought to my life. Even when you took your last breath, I knew I had witnessed the most beautiful sight in my life. The angelic sunbeam that lifted up my precious father’s soul has faded away, but the peace it brought with it remains in my heart and in my life today. I am living in the present, Dad, but keep you close to me. In your memory, the annual DAV Christmas donation was written using your checks and mailed. That will never change. I might not see you, but I can definitely feel your spirit with me. This Sunday, November 23rd, a mass is being offered at St. Charles to mark your one year anniversary. Ellen, Jim and Bill are coming to Brush Hollow for a ‘Remembrance Dinner.’ Serving tenderloin, mashed potatoes and carrot cake. All my father’s favorites. I’m at peace now, Dad. I trust in God that you are too. Someday, I hope you can be proud of me. Miss you always. Love you forever. Until our spirits meet again. Love, Debby

  2. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dad, Another beautiful Friday at 3:00 p.m.. Everytime I’m in the backyard, I still think of you there with me. I must admit it’s not as much fun, but will always remember you there with the wind in your face, no sunglasses and wearing your Yankees cap, of course. Miss you, Dad. Andy Pettitte is on the mound tonight. Enjoy the game! The clothes still hanging in your closet continue to bear your scent. I hope they always will. Much love and gratitude, Love, Debby

  3. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dad, It’s a beautiful Friday again. Reminds me of what a beautiful person you were. I was so blessed to have a father like you. Always in my corner, always at my side. Cutting the lawn for the first time tomorrow. Can still see you on that lawn tractor slowly making your way around the yard. Going to hit some golf balls this year, Dad. I’ll be thinking of you then too. All my love, Debby

  4. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dad, It’s hard January in New York. Your grandson, Dean, and family just visited for a long weekend. Dean is so much like you. Quiet, funny, thoughtful and with a big heart. It was so nice to see him, but so hard to hold back the tears. Fortunately, I was able to do so. His wife, Kristy, told me that Dean still has your Lugar which you gave him years ago. She said he still cleans the gun and cherishes it as I know you did. Very wise choice and nice gesture on your part, Dad. Always thinking…that was my father. Eternal love and kisses, Debby

  5. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dad, It’s nine weeks today, and I’m looking out my office window at that same blast of sunshine. I still know it’s you saying, ‘Hello!’ Time has passed so quickly for winter in Rochester. You never minded winter. Maybe I’m becoming more like you every day. I would consider it a blessing and an honor. There is so much I wish I knew about your earlier life, as a child, as a soldier, and as a caregiver with a young family. The book, The Greatest Generation, has enlightened me regarding so many traits about you. After all the horror of war, I understand fully and completely your silent yet courageous battle with cancer, and why you will forever remain such a hero to me. I salute you, Dad. Much love and prayers, Debby

  6. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dad, Just wanted to share the Yankees winning the World Series with you. Their 27th title, and I know you would have been proud. Kept thinking of you watching them, and coaching them from the living room sofa. My Yankee bear is exhausted and spending the off-season on your bed. He’s wearing your Yankee cap too. I remember us watching the World Series together in 2000 when the Yanks won against the Mets. That was nine years ago, and the last time they captured the Title. Win or lose, they were always your ‘bums.’ I can still see your face when it was always the bottom of the 9th inning with 2 outs, and some big Yankee bats were up to come from behind and win the game. The smile on your face went from ear to ear, and the sparkle in your eyes said it all. ‘Those Damn Yankees…’ right, Dad?! Big Yankee hugs coming your way. As John Sterling would say, Thhhheee Yankees Win!!!!!!!! This one was for my Dad. Love, Debby

  7. Andrew Tubiolo on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dave, I am very sorry for your loss. I know how it feels to lose a loving parent. I will say a prayer for your Father. I know you will miss him but I really believe we will all see our loved ones again when our time comes. Do remember that he will always be looking out for you.

  8. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dear Dad, Today is December 16th, the start of the 1944 Battle of the Bulge. I spent this morning looking at historical pictures online and understand completely why it was the largest and costliest battle fought by the American forces in World War II. The American casualties were 89,500 (19,000 killed, 47,500 wounded, 23,000 captured POWs or missing). Every time I think of you in that heavy Ardennes Forest with all the snow and sub-zero temperatures, my heart just breaks for you and all the other young infantry men. As a little girl, I still remember asking you about that wound on your chest and you always told me ‘it was just a scratch.’ And your frostbitten toes that were all curled, your toenails deadened and how you bathed them to seek whatever comfort possible. I still have all your military papers and medals, Dad. They are still in your briefcase in your closet where you always kept them. You will forever remain a hero to me, Dad. And the world will forever owe you a great deal of gratitude. Freedom is not free. All my love and heartfelt gratitude, Debby

  9. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dear Dad, It’s Friday, December 23rd. Beautiful day, sun is shining. No snow. Leaving the office for Christmas break. Just wanted to say that I love you, I miss you and a Merry Merry Christmas from your daughter who still wishes we will be together again someday for the Holidays. Merry Christmas, Dad. All my love, Debby

  10. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dear Dad, Easter has passed now and so has twenty weeks since you’ve been gone. When I was stranded in the Newark airport terminal overnight on Good Friday, I just knew you were with me. And I made it home safe and sound by noon on Holy Saturday. Thank you, Dad. I hope you were pleased with your Yankees Easter bunny. Maybe it’s silly, but it’s the least I can do for someone who basically dedicated his life to me. The Easter table at Brush Hollow held your two honorary candles from the service. Bill lit them both so you could still be with us for the Holiday. It made me feel better too. Opening Day for the Yanks has also been played. It was my first time listening to a radio game without you on a Saturday afternoon. But, you made me smile and I hope you were listening too. They’ve lost against Toronto, Dad. Please see what you can do…Millie’s birthday was on April 2nd. I remembered a bit late, but found the grave site nonetheless. I used the map that I found in your car, and delivered a single rose for you. Now, I keep the map along with your other auto/trunk belongings in my car. And always will…The Monte Carlo sold, Dad, to a very nice older woman whom I believe will take care of it. She let me keep your front car mats that read, Dad’s Car’ for sentimental value. That was very nice of her to do that. You would have liked her, and that particular morning was warm and sunny as I drove your car out to Webster. It felt like the right thing to do. I tried to transfer your plates to my Saturn, but DMV was not going to accept that unless I was a spouse. So, I have photo copies instead which will serve as my only reminder of your ‘APE’ plates. Spring has sprung at Brush Hollow, Dad. I still think of us together working in the backyard. That part is hard, Dad. But, I’m getting things done with a little help here and there. I see you in the flowers that bloom, and I feel you in the breezes across my face. The duckies are being their usual selves (if you know what I mean), and I’m very sure there will be many babies soon that would have brought such pleasure to you. Miss ya, Dad. I just know we will be together again. Who else but you would ever put up with me?! Love, Debby

  11. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dear Dad, Sixteen weeks have passed now, but time will never erase my memories of you. Aunt Martha joined me for a St. Joseph’s Table last night. She is a spunky 93 now. Oh, how I wish I could have you back for another five years. Just a second chance to be around you and take better care of you. You never complained about my cooking, but I could have tried harder. And to hear you watch a Yankees game just one more time would be priceless to me. I know you were in my dream the other night, and I so want to thank you for that moment. I see you’re getting a new roommate at Holy Sepulchre. My prayer is that he will be as loved and missed as you are. A surprise is coming for Easter. Sweet Dreams, Dad. I love you. Debby

  12. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dear Dad, Time will never erase your legacy, or how much you’re still loved and thought of every day. It’s been 3 and a half years now. I know, no tears. The ‘Sounds of Sinatra’ is still playing throughout the house on Sunday mornings. It reminds me of you. I hope you’re listening. Love forever, Debby

  13. Dottie Vastola on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Dear Debbie, I send you my deepest condolences on the loss of your father. I wish for you the greatest strength to help you in this sad time and and many good memories to last you for a lifetime. My prayers and heart are with you at this time of great sorrow.

  14. null on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    For those of you who wish to read Pete’s Eulogy that was given by Dave’s son, Daniel, read below. PETER CATARI ‘ EULOGY PIETRO CATARINACCI was born in Rochester, New York in 1919. The youngest of 4 children – and the only boy – he was the pride of the Catarinacci Family. Raised on Erie Street in Rochester, Grandpa Pete attended School Number 5 and later attended Jefferson High School. As a product of the great depression – after the 11th grade – He went to work to help support his family as a part of the CCC Camp Program building Hamlin Beach State Park. Grandpa met Grandma during one of his early favorite pastimes, dancing. Grandma Celia and her cousin Ida often attended local ballroom dances ‘ purchasing tickets for 25 cents a night! A big night out included dancing at the Armory for the Big Bands including Louie Prima, Bunny Berrigan, and more! Many dances took place around Rochester at locations like the Madison Ballroom, the Valmont, Genesee Ballroom, Eagle’s Club, Stardust Room and Roseland in Canandaigua. He was known as a very good dancer ‘ especially the jitterbug. Their first and favorite song was Hoagy Carmichel’s STARDUST! One memorable evening, they went out dancing at Charlotte Beach. At the end of the night, they realized they didn’t have 10 cents to purchase a ticket for a streetcar ride home. Friends of theirs offered them a ride in the ‘rumble seat’ of their car. As luck would have it, it started to rain and they got out of the car ‘ only their friends didn’t realize they got out of the car. They walked all the way from Charlotte Beach to Prospect Street! ‘ over 7 miles. Grandpa married Grandma, in February 1941! Since Grandpa didn’t have a car, they invited their lifelong friends, Pat and Ida Mitrano to join them on their honeymoon. Traveling to Niagara Falls, they got snow-bound in Batavia. Needless to say ‘ they never made it to Niagara Falls and the honeymoon took place in Batavia! Later they were fortunate enough to have two wonderful children- my Dad, Dave and Aunt Debbie. Grandpa was inducted into the service in 1944 and was involved in many conflicts in the European Theater including the Battle of the Bulge at Liege, Belgium. He received many decorations and citations throughout his Military career including the Purple Heart, the Bronze Star and a citation from President Harry Truman. Although Grandpa did not speak often about his Military career, he was very proud of his first grandson, Dominic who graduated with honors from the United States Military Academy at West Point. At the Atlantic Stamping Company, Grandpa – alias ‘Scottie’ – held the position of Union Shop Steward and represented ‘his guys’ as a Union Lobbyist under the Kennedy Administration. When someone lost their job, he would bring over his own paycheck and purchase groceries for their families. Grandpa would often attend meetings at the Jacob Javits Center in New York City as a part of his Lobbyist work. He also never forgot his family ‘ Grandpa always returned with chocolate covered cherries for Aunt Debbie. Grandpa spent 20 years as an electric welder and then moved onto a sales career in flooring. His career in flooring sales was rather ironic ‘ since he was color blind! Despite his color handicap – the customers loved him and respected his advice! In his working career, he was also a Greece Business Community activist providing many volunteer hours of services to area children. As a past member of the Arrowhead Golf Club’¦ his favorite saying was ‘ ‘It never rained on a golf course and your score didn’t matter as long as you had fun!’ Grandpa and his golfing buddies were infamous for using their flash lights and ‘bics’ to light their way to the end of their round! If one was to summarize Grandpa ‘ he was an honest, hardworking, strong man with a great sense of humor. He was also a sentimentalist; He kept every graduation program for his children and grandchildren. He was a beloved father and uncle ‘ a favorite memory for most of his family includes the Christmas Holidays. T

  15. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Happy Birthday, Dad! Just wanted you to know that it’s still a day worth remembering and celebrating. There was a mass said in your honor at St. Charles this morning. I was there and so was Sister Marion, who helped arrange your funeral services. Various pictures of you blowing out your birthday candles are in place at Holy Sepulchre. I hope it makes you happy. My birthday wish for you is eternal happiness. And many thanks for teaching me what’s truly important in life. Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you. Debby

  16. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Happy Father’s Day, Dad! It was our second Father’s Day apart, but I still hold all my feelings and thoughts from last year’s message close to my heart. A mass was said in your memory at St. John’s The Evangelist, and I spent some time visiting our spot at Holy Sepulchre. Miss ya, Dad. Hope you’re safe, happy, and loved. All my love, Debby

  17. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Happy Father’s Day, Dad, This is our fifth Father’s Day apart. I like to think that I have two fathers in heaven now. It makes me feel better and never alone. Thank you for being my dad. I wouldn’t of had it any other way. All my love now and forever, Debby

  18. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Happy Father’s Day’. Dad, I want you to know that I love you. You remain a very important part of my life. Our relationship, our memories and moments shared, and the love you’ve given me are all so very precious to me. I count having a father like you as one of my blessings, and I hope you realized that you have always been my inspiration. You have guided me in each decision and encouraged me to reach for every dream. Through your guidance, wisdom and the strength of your love, you have helped me to become the person I am now. I want you to know that though this is our first Father’s Day apart, you mean so much more to me than words can say. I thank you and I love you with all my heart. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Love, Debby

  19. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Happy Spring, Dad. Holy Sepulchre is just beautiful this time of year with all the flowering trees. I hope it reminds you of Brush Hollow. There are twelve new baby ducks on the property, and the new Douglas Fur made it through the winter. I’m behind in the yard work as usual, but installing an irrigation system to help water the gardens. You were such a big help during the daytime while I was at the office. When people ask about your rock in the garden, I happily tell them that’s the spot from where my Dad watered. All is well, but haven’t quite figured out my life yet. I guess half the fun is the ride. It’s a beautiful life nonetheless. Will always love and miss you. xoxoxo, Debby

  20. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Just wanted to take a quiet moment to remember you, and all you still mean to me. I attended the Holiday Pops concert at the Eastman Theater. When the first note of Ave Maria was sung, I paused and thought back to the day you passed. It was 11:00 a.m. in your hospital room and the Ave Maria was playing on your favorite radio station next to your bed. I was sitting there listening with Jim Mazzota as it was his mother’s special song too. Your room was absolutely silent except for the music. It was such a beautiful moment frozen in time that I shall forever remember. Somehow, some way, I hope that it brought you strength and peace, Dad. I quietly dedicated this year’s Holiday Pops Ave Maria to my loving father, on our second Christmas apart. Much love, Debby

  21. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Last Sunday, December 7th was Pearl Harbour Day. Every year, you never failed to remember the 2,400 US service men that lost their lives on that day. Even when nobody around you paid tribute, you never failed to take a moment and acknowledge their ultimate sacrafice. Well, I’m remembering on your behalf, Dad. The monument is being restructured because it’s sinking. It’s the least the government should do. I know the younger generations are very uninformed about these historical events, but the significance is not lost on me. FREEDOM IS NOT FREE. Last Christmas, I promised you that we would always be a team, and that I would always carry you in my heart. Absolutely nothing will ever change that. Rudy is keeping watch on the front porch, and your new baby Douglas Fur is brightly lit in the front yard. It’s my gift to you, Dad. Merry Christmas. Love, Debby

  22. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Four years today. Just wanted you to know that there are still nine voicemail messages on my office phone from my father who called and cared so much about me and my well being. I played them today just to hear your voice and sense of humor. As always, I’ll be with you at Holy Sepulchre at 3:00 this afternoon. Thanksgiving will forever have a special meaning for I was blessed with a father like you. Happy Thanksgiving, Dad. Love, Debby

  23. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, As usual, there is so much going on at Brush Hollow this spring. Bill was using your tools and vise grip last weekend to fix the gutter downspout. He even said you were right there looking over his shoulder. I already knew that, but it felt good to hear him say so. Big news. Island #1 has a new addition this year. It’s in honor and memory of ‘someone special’ who always stood there watering all the plantings with loving care. A new rock engraved with ‘Dad’s Garden’ has found it’s home on the very same spot where you did your watering. And Bill brought over illuminating butterflies that light up the rock at night. It looks really nice Dad, both day and night. And it makes me feel closer to you too. I’ve brought pics to the cemetery of your Yankee penguins and MLB baseball instead of the real thing, Dad. Experience has taught me that they would be stolen, and I know you would understand. Thanks for being with me on my recent road trip to Owego. I could just hear you harping on me about driving too fast and the speeding ticket. I deserved that one. Three masses have been scheduled at St. Charles Borromeo for you, Dad. They mark Father’s Day, your birthday and the one year anniversary of your passing. I wish I could do more. Everything pales by comparison to what you constantly did for me. I’ll always be eternally grateful, Dad. Miss you bunches. Love, Debby.

  24. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Four weeks have passed by now, and life has unfolded in some very unexpected ways. But, it’s only served to make me stronger. So many times I have asked myself, ‘What would Dad have done, or what would his wishes be?’ I trust that my decisions have been in line with your thinking. Last night, there were two deer in the backyard against a blanket of white snow. It was so beautiful with the moonlight shining down upon them. It helped me decide to stay at Brush Hollow. That’s what my father would have wanted too! You would have worried about me either way, but somehow I think you would be comforted to know that I’m staying. Dad, this is my last communication to you via your guestbook as it is expiring soon and will be taken offline. It is 3:00 p.m. and the sun is again bursting out of the sky just as it shown four weeks ago. I just wanted you to know that you will never be forgotten by those who truly loved you, and wish for your eternal happiness. See ya on the flip side, Dad. Love and Merry Christmas, Debby

  25. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, It’s almost the middle of July, and I still have three full boxes of momentos, paperwork, an 11/23/07 newspaper and other funeral items sitting on the kitchen counter. The time will come to organize it, and store it someplace special. Still haven’t done much with your room or closets. Don’t really feel a particular need to do so. There have been some comments, but I remain unaffected. I was startled out of bed this morning by a bird crashing into my window. Was that your way of telling me to get up and hurry, or be late for the office. I laughed over that one. Missed you bunches over the July 4th weekend. Haven’t cooked on the grill yet. That was your job, but maybe soon. Rest in peace, Dad. You deserve it, and so much more. Love, Debby

  26. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, It’s an unbelievable 6 months since you passed away. I attended the 140th Annual Sunday Memorial Service on May 18th. It is sponsored by the Veterans Memorial & Executive Council with special emphasis placed on departed comrades from the last twelve months. Your name was published as Peter Catarinacci which I thought was very cute. The service was very meaningful highlighted with prayer, music, lighting of the eternal flame, placing of the floral wreath and of course, taps. I remain so proud to be your daughter. There are several pictures of you in uniform that I cherish. You were so young and handsome, Dad. There is an innocence in your face that I’m sure the war erased forever. Just days before you passed, I saw that same boyish innocent look appear on your face which I read is part of the dying process. You were sitting up in your hospital bed looking like a precious sweet little boy. Your mother must have adored you. At that moment, I so wished I could have comforted you the way she would have done. I felt so helpless and incompetent. I shall never forget that moment. Life really does come full circle. I miss you so very much, Dad. Happy Memorial Day, and thank you for my freedom. Love, Debby P.S. We have baby duckies at Brush Hollow…

  27. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, It’s autumn and tons of colorful leaves are dropping at Brush Hollow. Really don’t need to tell you what a job that is. I still picture you here, right next to me riding the lawn tractor and bagging the leaves. Our time together in the yard was actually fun. You in your orange hat and old winter coat with paint spots all over it, and me in my boots, earmuffs and gloves. What a team! I wish you were here to celebrate autumn together. It’s one of the times I miss you the most. Every autumn, there came that first morning when you cheerfully announced, ‘There’s frost on the pumpkin!’ I’d still give the world to hear you say that one more time. It always made me smile. Dad, I wish I could talk to you for awhile. Face to face. I’m so sorry I didn’t take better care of you. Feed you better food. You were gone too soon. Your final month was so hectic with all the visitors coming and going. They had good intentions, but I know it was a burden. Your wishes were to privately spend your final days at home, but you passed away while hospitalized at Rochester General. I know you were upset about that. I’m so sorry that I didn’t insist that Doris Allen stay the nights instead of Nancy. I know you would have liked that. But you were so strong. Never complained about anything including that horrible pressure wound at the base of your tail bone. How I wish I could have made things all better for you. It’s so hard to accept the fact that your final wishes were not honored. Remember your old, dirty, hugh PGA Tour umbrella that you always kept in your trunk? Well, guess who was very happy she transferred it to her trunk months ago? It was pouring rain last week, and I needed it desparately to walk from the parking lot into my office. Still looking out for me, huh Dad? Sorry I made fun of your umbrella too. Well, Jamie Paternoster passed recently at 69 years old. Aunt Martha is doing OK. A mother should never have to bury her son. He must be up there with you and Uncle Jim. Oh, boy. I hope you’re getting them in small manageable doses! One more thing, Dad. A very nice couple, Ed and Mary, who used to see us together at Mr. Dominic’s stopped me and introduced themselves. They extended an open invitation for me to have dinner with them if I’m ever solo on a Tuesday. Wasn’t that nice of them? Perfect strangers… Miss and love you, Dad. I’ll never say good-bye. Debby

  28. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, It’s really snowing in Rochester today. Brush Hollow remains so beautiful in the winter. Just finished an email to your nephew, Peter Cumbo, who is 80 years old now and has lung cancer too. I’m so saddened because it’s already spread to his bones. He reminds me so much of you. His looks, his dress, the way he talks, his mannerisms are all ‘Catarinacci.’ Your side of the family was always so nice and gracious to me. I wish we had spent more time growing up together. I know we didn’t because of Mom, and her dislike of outdoor events such as picnics. But I have so much more in common with your side of the family that it comforts me to know them. Please pray for Peter Cumbo, Dad. My hope is that he finds the courage to fight the fight as bravely as you did. Eternal love, Debby

  29. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, It’s the beginning of August, and we’re having such a rainy summer. The grass is a lush green and has to be cut every week. Bill is cutting it. He just mows though. No edging or trimming. Very funny. Oh, youspoiled me, Dad. This ismyfirst summer doing the edging, trimmingand filling the gas canfor the lawn tractor. How didyou get the yardto look so neat? Well, I’m trying. Nobody seems to notice but me. I wonder if all this rain is your way of still helping me water the gardens including your new memorial tree that requires daily care. You always knew me better than I knew myself. Including my limitations. Thanks for your continued support. Nancy Piazza is here! She has taken to feeding the ducks just like you did. Everytime I see her in the yard with the ducks, it so reminds me of you. I hope you were somewhat happy spending your last years at Brush Hollow. I know your life was far from perfect, but any moment of peace or joy you found there would be a priceless memory for me. Today is the most perfect afternoon. You would have loved it. Your face in the breeze, all scrunched up because you never wore sunglasses. And your Yankees cap, of course. I can almost hear you outside riding the lawn tractor. Not until ‘after lunch because the lawn is still wet.’ Right, Dad? Love ya bunches, Debby

  30. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, It’s three weeks today since you’ve been gone. At 3:10 this afternoon, the sun came out just like it did the moment you passed away. I just know it’s you saying, ‘Hello.’ Thank you for your ‘other’ gifts to me now, and in the future as there is no other possible explanation for it. Hope the real tree at Brush Hollow meets your approval. Yeah, right! Like you ever complained about anything… Dad, you always told me that no matter what happens to you in life, that you get up and get going. Thank you for those words as they have served me well over these past weeks. I’m sure you know that I’ve had my moments, but they have been mostly private and few in number. My goal is to live the rest of my life as you did…with strength and compassion for others. Merry Christmas, Dad. Sweet Dreams Love, Debby

  31. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, It’s two weeks today since you passed. There were three deer in the backyard just outside your bedroom window. I couldn’t help but think that they were looking for you. Your bird feeder is being filled once a week, and it is usually picked clean by then. Of course you never mentioned the expense, but you must have spent some money on those little guys! Dad, sorry about your fake Xmas tree at Holy Sepulchre. It’s all they will allow on the inside. I know your preference for a real tree, so Santa is bringing a real Douglas Fur to Brush Hollow this year in honor of you and me. I promise… All in all, just wanted you to know that everything is relatively OK at Brush Hollow. Nothing can compare to your TLC, but we’re OK. Thank you so much for all you lovingly did around here to make a perfect home for me. We’ll always be a team, Dad. I can feel you all around me, and I carry you in my heart. Absolutely nothing will ever change that. Merry Christmas. Love, Debby

  32. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Just a quick note. On December 14, 2007, I promised you to live the rest of my life with strength and compassion for others (as you did). Well, I just wanted you to know that I’ve offered Brush Hollow’s in-law suite to Doris Allen because she has been a crime victim twice now over at Rochester Housing Authority. She has no money to buy her way out to a safer apartment. We just had a conversation about her moving at 3:00 on this Friday afternoon. She is going to think about it. And Ralph May is still having a hard time accepting his divorce that has caused problems at work. I am going to offer taking him with me to my office where he’ll hopefully feel better about himself and save his job. That’s what my father would do. Thanks Dad for all your guidance. Love ya, Debby

  33. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Just got back from the cemetery. I had wanted to bring your Valentine’s Bears, but the situation changed once I arrived. It has almost been a year since your Easter Bunny was stolen. And now, someone has taken your stuffed penquin. My fault for not locking it down. Someday, I would really like to meet the scavenger that thinks it’s OK to steal from the deceased. I’ll replace the penquin, Dad. Right now, your words are ringing in my ears, ‘Let it go…’ That dirty old penquin you carried around in your car for years would probably still be there had I chosen him! Oh, well. I’m a year older, Dad. Miss having dinner with you on my birthday. Sweet Dreams. Love, Debby

  34. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Just wanted you to know that a Friday at 3:08 p.m. doesn’t go by without a thought and prayer for your eternal peace and happiness. I will be in the backyard for the first time this spring, and will think of you working right beside me. ‘Think of me when the flowers bloom…’ Happy Spring, Dad. Love and Kisses, Debby

  35. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Thanksgiving was last week. My first one without you. I remember being at the hospital last year for Thanksgiving. They brought your dinner to the room, and gave it to me. There I sat in your recliner with the tray of food that you couldn’t eat. How I wished you would eat just a little, but it would have been cruel to force you. And you didn’t want it. You looked over at me for a brief moment and then turned your head straight again. I’ll never know what you were thinking. It would be only 24 hours before you passed. The last smile I saw on your face was that night when March of the Penguins was televised. It did us all good to see that smile. I have pictures of you preparing our Thanksgiving turkeys that I shall cherish forever. I will never forget my father who was such a wonderful part of my life. Your story still reinforces great lessons of human nature, humility, sacrifice and unending love. Happy Thanksgiving, Dad. Love, Debby

  36. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, The snow is coming down today just like inside a snow globe. It’s very windy and a foot of accumulation is predicted. I’m looking out my office window half expecting the phone to ring. It would be my father calling because he was worried about me driving home from work. Telling me to be careful was always a given. Just wanted you to know that I will be careful, Dad. Four new tires on the Saturn and I will take it slow. I promise. Of course, a sleigh and some reindeer wouldn’t hurt either. Merry Christmas, Dad. Yours is the prettiest tree on the street. Love, Debby

  37. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, There was a very special mass offered in your memory at St. Charles on Sunday, June 15th for Father’s Day. Their choir was very impressive, and I was so happy they were singing for you. Then, a warm and beautiful day unfolded. Holy Sepulchre was so crowded. I sat for awhile next to you and also outside by the fountain. It’s hard for people who have lost somebody, Dad. And I know you’d say chin up and it’s never good-bye. I lifted my head to the sky and the warm breezes felt like your hugs. I knew you were sick last summer when you didn’t show up sometimes in the backyard or disappeared into the house to sit down. And the weight loss too. I keep asking myself if I should have been more adamant with Dr. Farrokh. The health concerns I was monitoring all turned out to be non-issues. And the nurses kept commenting on what a jokester you were arriving in a good mood all the time, even when you were in pain. You never let me know it, you never let it show. From your first bout with colon cancer in 2000 to your falling off a ladder while on coumadin, to September 2007 when you had the constant mass pain and couldn’t breathe. Every time, you quietly saw Dr. Farrokh on your own and without my knowledge. It’s like you already knew it was something bad, and you decided to go alone. I know why you did it, Dad. Because you loved me. All that time I thought I was managing your healthcare and taking care of you. What a joke. How did you ever put up with me? There is so much more left to say. If you were with me, I’d show you the new baby Douglas Fur planted in the front yard at Brush Hollow. The engraved stone says it all. I want to celebrate your life. And I miss you. Please don’t forget me, Dad. I love you. Debby

  38. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Thirteen weeks now, and I miss you so very much. I’m transferring your fire arms to Uncle Bobby because he will take care of them as you did. Little else has changed at Brush Hollow. Bill was very grateful to have your tools handy for some upgrading in the third bedroom. He’s not too bad, and hopes that you would be proud of him too. There are many decades of pictures that I have been going through and organizing. They have become quite important to me since you’ve been gone. I wish I had more of your younger years. But time marches on, and I know you would want me to be happy, Dad. I’m trying. Hope you liked your Valentines Bears as much as I liked bringing them to you. More to come…Lights Out?!…Yep…Good Night, Deb…Good Night, Dad…Sweet Dreams…Sweet Dreams…See ya in the morn’in. Love, Debby

  39. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Time goes by so quickly these days. Some people have inquired about my staying at Brush Hollow and all the work it involves. My response is that it has been a blessing in many ways because it has kept me so busy. The new bedroom windows are installed, but the exterior trim painting was up to me. So, out came your ladders including the tall extension one. I know you were right there with me on that ladder, Dad. Your words, ‘Always remember where you are. You are on a ladder,’ were ringing in my ears. You taught me well, Dad. I didn’t fall or hurt myself at all. And that was alot of ladder moves and up and down too. ‘Getting hurt is the easy thing to do. Not getting hurt is the hard thing to do.’ Who always told me that when I was growiwng up? Yep, I remember that one too. Dad, we had a memorial tree dedication ceremony at the house on Saturday, August 30th. We also celebrated Nancy Piazza’s birthday too. But I couldn’t use the word ‘Birthday’ because Nancy would have shot me! The counselor, Rayanne, conducted a wonderful ceremony with readings, music and blessed your tree with water. Then, Nancy and I shared some memories of you. There were thirty-five people there, and I helped Nancy make all the food! It was a real nice gathering Dad, and the weather was just perfect. I know you were looking down then too. Chuch Territo (very tall) hung his Yankees hat on the top of your tree for pictures. Rayanne is a grief counselor too, and she supports my remembering you, keeping you on my mind and in my heart. So, I AM doing the right things in spite of this horrid family of mine here on earth. Don’t worry. I’m fine… Ellen’s mother, Irene Fox, passed away Dad. And I was there for Ellen just as she was there for me last November. Same funeral home, same director. But I was OK with it. Everybody still remembers your Yankees casket. The Meeson family actually took a picture of it! If you see Ellen’s mother, please tell her ‘the brat’ said hi. Just returned from LA and the house was OK with the alarm system and all. But I can remember how you always took care of everything while I traveled, and nothing was better than that. Miss your smiling face at the kitchen door upon my return. You were always so happy to see me back home. I know its your time now. Just wish I could have been a better daughter. Life is not a dress rehearsal. It’s so odd meeting people now that never knew you. I’ll never say good-bye, Dad. Love, Debby

  40. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Today is Christmas Eve. We would either be going to the Lamplighter for early dinner, or I would be bringing something home for us from the Brookhouse. Afterwards, I would attend early midnight mass while you would tune into one of your favorite Christmas stories on TV. You were so content to be at home for Christmas listening to holiday music, making chestnuts, watching the parade from Disneyland and just helping in whatever way you could. After mass, it was so nice returning home and having you always greet me at the kitchen door with the most welcoming smile on your face. ‘Who’s that knocking on my door?!’ Sound familiar? Wrote the Christmas cards alone, but thought of you the whole entire time. I can still see you at the kitchen sink peeling those hot chestnuts so nobody else would burn their fingers. That was my father. There’s chestnuts at Holy Sepulchre, just for you. Merry Christmas, Dad. I love you…Debby

  41. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Today is November 23rd. It’s two years now, but I still keep your voicemails on my office phone, always checking to see if I made it to work, and telling me to be careful on the way home. There was a beautiful Sunday mass said in your memory at St. Charles yesterday at 9:30 a.m. The choir was magnificent. And as a special treat, a little children’s choir performed on the alter during some parts of the mass as well. You would have loved them. They were so cute trying to sing and behave themselves all at once. I could just see the smile on your face while watching them. Latter on today, I will be joining you at Holy Sepulchre because I want to be there at 3:08 p.m., the time when you passed. I know you’re not alone, but it’s just a need I have to be there because I really didn’t understand the hospice nurse when she casually stated you were ‘coming down.’ By the time I crossed the room to your bedside was not soon enough for me. I hope you know that I was there for you. Do you enjoy your 1940’s music that’s being played from the car every time I visit? It’s for you, Dad. And every time I hear Judy Garland singing Over The Rainbow and Perry Como doing the Ave Maria, I dedicate them as well. Having ‘roast beef, mashed potatoes and carrot cake’ for dinner tonight. And the Douglas Fur in the front yard will be lit in your honor. Happy Thanksgiving, Dad. All My Love, Debby

  42. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Today is one of your favorite holidays, Halloween! Because it falls on a Friday this year and the temperature is about 61 degrees, alot of trick or treaters are expected. I have all your quarters and mini Snickers bars ready to go. Bones is mounted on the front door, and Casper is flapping in the wind just as you would have done. Somehow, a Snickers ended up at Holy Sepulchre for you. I’ll probably get in trouble for that one. As time goes by, I can still see the smile on your face when the little ones came to the door. To this day, I don’t know who was more excited, my father or the kids. Even last year when you had already started your morphine drops, you couldn’t wait for the next group to ring the bell. My wish is for your spirit to be ever present with me tonight at the front door just as it was when you passed. I’ll keep the count, Dad. Happy Halloween! Love, Debby

  43. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, Twenty-two weeks today. I can’t believe it. Spring is in full bloom at Brush Hollow including the chicaudi. Warmest April in 86 years! You were just a baby the last time it happened. Baseball is moving ahead. Dad, the Yankees could still use your help. The backyard is not the same without you. I’m doing my best, but so miss being out there with you. I know you are in a better place, and being taken care of far better than I could ever do. Wanting you here is somewhat selfish on my part. It is your time now Dad to be happy and loved. Lord only knows how you paid your dues here on earth again and again without malice or complaint. Friday fish fry from Davies hasn’t happened much. My fault, I know. Want to laugh? Remember all those years you would keep the used twisty ties in the kitchen drawer for potential future use, and I would throw them out because I thought they messed up the drawer? Well, guess who is keeping them now…me. Yep. They come in handy, right Dad? You must be laughing out loud. Slow learner or too stubborn to learn. Don’t give up on me, Dad. I plan on making alot of things right. That includes your stolen Easter bunny with the Yankee hat. What kind of person does that? I’m so sorry for you and for them too. Apparently, this is an ongoing situation for anybody who places mementoes of value or especially nice pieces that can be given away as gifts. It makes me sick. But I know you would say, ‘Debby, let it go.’ So as a Plan B, pictures of what I would have brought to you are going to replace the actual articles. Let’s see if they swipe them too. Unbelievable. The bright stop in all of this was a very nice note left by another daughter to me describing the same circumstances that happens numerous times to her and her Mom who is laid to rest a couple doors down from you. It was vey nice of her to do that. I feel somewhat better knowing that people care what happens in the cemetery even though we can’t do much about it. All my love, Dad. Forever and Ever. Debby

  44. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Hi Dad, You passed away on a Friday afternoon just fifteen weeks ago. I can’t help but remember that Our Lord died on that day and time. I so often pray that He is looking out for you and granting the peace and happiness you so deserved but rarely experienced on this earth. Little by little, matters are being resolved on your behalf. There isn’t a day that goes by without a thought or reminder of what a kind soul you were. Even the insurance lady, Doreen, commented on your constant good nature and positive attitude. When life wasn’t rosy, no one ever knew. You just kept on in your private quiet way. There is so much I am still learning from you, Dad. Please help me make the decisions that lie ahead. Remind me of what really matters in life. I remain so proud to be your daughter. Love and Kisses, Debby

  45. Randall J Napoli on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    My deepest condolences for the family’s loss and the Lords gain. May the gathering of friends and family be blessed with memorable stories from Pete’s gracious life. I hope each and everyday turns a road of sorrow to one of happiness and fond memories.

  46. Michael Macaluso on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    We are sorry that we can not be with you during this time, but please accept our most heartfelt condolences.

  47. Ray & Carol DeRuyter on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    We were so sorry to hear of the passing of Pete. The few times I got to talk to him over the past few years were a joy. He seemed so full of life. I read that he was a WWII veteran and served in the Battle of the Bulge. I never knew. But that seems like the kind of guy Pete was. Not talking about himself that much. I know he will be dearly missed. Please know that Pete and all of you are in Carol and my prayers.

  48. Stephen M Tisa on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    We will miss you Uncle Pete but we will all see you again some day. You are now with your parents and sisters. My most sincere sympathy to the family.

  49. Debra A. Catari on September 28, 2012 at 12:00 am

    Well Dad, Maybe it’s a good thing you weren’t here for this 2008 Presidential Election. The candidates were a 72 year old veteran POW, John McCain, and a 48 year old African American, Barack Obama, who basically grew up in Kenya and Indonesia. Senator Obama won with the majority of both popular and electoral votes. Once again, it’s been proven that you don’t have to be smart or educated to vote. I expect we’ll suffer another 9-11 soon because he’s young, inexperienced and has no foriegn policy. Just like Bill Clinton. Anyway, I’ll always remember how important it was to you to cast your vote in all the elections. You read the newspapers, watched the media and debates with such passion and concern. You also proudly wore your ‘I Voted Today’ sticker to Mr. Dominic’s that night or wherever else you went that day. And your choices were such a private matter to you. Wouldn’t tell, not even me! You would judiciously study the election ballot that was published in the newspaper ahead of time so not to make a mistake. And you always said, ‘Your vote is your business inside that booth. End of story!’ Dad, thank you for instilling in me the importance of voting and appreciating my right to vote. I envisioned picking you up on the lunch hour (you were always ready and waiting), and driving over to our polling place. You were so excited. I still felt your presence walking beside me in your white sneakers, zipped up winter coat and hat. And I could still hear you joking around with the volunteers, always making them laugh. Thank you again for my freedoms, and I promise to always exercise my right to vote. Because that’s exactly what my father would have done. Love, Debby

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