Carilee Shea
My sister-in-law, Carilee was a lot of things to me.
First, she was family.
We shared a love for a lot of people.
Secondly, she was a reader of this blog.
Every day.
She didn’t let me know it at first, but one time, at a party she said, “You got that wrong.”
I don’t remember the subject but I laughed.
“So, you read the blog?”
“Always,” she said. “And sometimes you’re right.”
And that’s the third thing I’m gonna’ miss:
We both loved to argue.
After all the years we also were well aware of how to push each other’s buttons.
Carilee would sometimes start it with a shot about the Yankees. I distinctly recall her posting about a bad loss. She hated baseball.
She was posting for one reason only.
I answered by posting a photo of Tom Brady with all those rings on his fingers, and it was on!
Thing is, anyone looking in might believe that we couldn’t stand one another, but I can honestly say two things:
I was never actually mad at her, ever, and we agreed on a lot more than we differed.
There was only one person that Carilee hated more than Tom Brady:
Donald Trump.
She loved a whole lot of people as well, including every single Foutz or anyone who loved or cared for a Foutz or a Shea or a Brotz or a Snell or an O’Neill.
The only person she loved more than all those mentioned above was Rod Stewart (and we shared a love for his music - she loved him for more than his music, I suspect).
Thing is, we battled on social media. We also agreed there too, but late in January we all gathered at Mom and Dad Foutz home to celebrate Mom’s last birthday, and I spent most of the evening chatting, quietly with Carilee.
We talked about her husband Jim, her daughters, Jenny and Katie and the grandchildren.
(She loved her grandkids more than Rod Stewart, actually).
And we spoke about cancer, and her battle.
It was almost like the cartoon characters who talk at the time clock, punch in, and go at it for awhile.
We had a really great talk, and I told her how sorry I was that she had to fight it...
...but I never thought I’d be writing this blog now.
Too young.
Too much love left to give.
Way too sad, and those who loved her...
...all her crazy siblings, her wonderful Dad, her adorable grandchildren and everyone else that she sometimes drove around the bend...
...were cheated.
And somehow, someway, I hope that there’s a chance that Carilee can read this blog one more time...
...because I got this one right.
I’ll miss my favorite combatant.
May she Rest In Peace.
First, she was family.
We shared a love for a lot of people.
Secondly, she was a reader of this blog.
Every day.
She didn’t let me know it at first, but one time, at a party she said, “You got that wrong.”
I don’t remember the subject but I laughed.
“So, you read the blog?”
“Always,” she said. “And sometimes you’re right.”
And that’s the third thing I’m gonna’ miss:
We both loved to argue.
After all the years we also were well aware of how to push each other’s buttons.
Carilee would sometimes start it with a shot about the Yankees. I distinctly recall her posting about a bad loss. She hated baseball.
She was posting for one reason only.
I answered by posting a photo of Tom Brady with all those rings on his fingers, and it was on!
Thing is, anyone looking in might believe that we couldn’t stand one another, but I can honestly say two things:
I was never actually mad at her, ever, and we agreed on a lot more than we differed.
There was only one person that Carilee hated more than Tom Brady:
Donald Trump.
She loved a whole lot of people as well, including every single Foutz or anyone who loved or cared for a Foutz or a Shea or a Brotz or a Snell or an O’Neill.
The only person she loved more than all those mentioned above was Rod Stewart (and we shared a love for his music - she loved him for more than his music, I suspect).
Thing is, we battled on social media. We also agreed there too, but late in January we all gathered at Mom and Dad Foutz home to celebrate Mom’s last birthday, and I spent most of the evening chatting, quietly with Carilee.
We talked about her husband Jim, her daughters, Jenny and Katie and the grandchildren.
(She loved her grandkids more than Rod Stewart, actually).
And we spoke about cancer, and her battle.
It was almost like the cartoon characters who talk at the time clock, punch in, and go at it for awhile.
We had a really great talk, and I told her how sorry I was that she had to fight it...
...but I never thought I’d be writing this blog now.
Too young.
Too much love left to give.
Way too sad, and those who loved her...
...all her crazy siblings, her wonderful Dad, her adorable grandchildren and everyone else that she sometimes drove around the bend...
...were cheated.
And somehow, someway, I hope that there’s a chance that Carilee can read this blog one more time...
...because I got this one right.
I’ll miss my favorite combatant.
May she Rest In Peace.
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