Sir Luca the Loving Eulogy @ The Magical Moon Foundation

Eulogy of Luca Andrew De Lisi

Born: February 27, 2002
Angel: June 29, 2005

By: Dee-aad

We are thankful to Luca that he has brought together our dearest friends and family, and has given us this opportunity to speak here today; to share him with all of you.

From the minute Megan became pregnant, Luca changed our lives forever. For those of you who knew us at that point in our lives, you would have noticed that Megan immediately emanated a certain glow; her smile became more beautiful, her spirit more graceful.

Luca was born on February 27, 2002, in Boston, a city he initially called his home, and a place he loved. In true Luca fashion, he enjoyed the action of the North End. The trains, the boats, the good food, the hustle and bustle. It is where he learned his “commando crawl”, where he took his first steps, where he made his first friend, where he swung his first swing.

Luca was born at 1:41in the afternoon. For those of you who were unaware, he was born in his water sack, which is not the norm. The nurses shared an old Irish Wives Tale that foretold that such an accomplishment would bring extraordinary luck and intuition. He came on suddenly, and oddly enough, so suddenly that there were no doctors available for the delivery. How appropriate that our nurse inexplicably left the delivery room in a panic to locate a physician to deliver him. It was during that time, that I stole my first glance of Luca. How very fitting, amidst all the chaos; an eerie intimacy, in a quiet room, with the lights off, with the pure white snow falling. Just the way Luca liked it … thoughtful and alone with the two people he loved the most, Momma and Dee-aad!

Luca died the same way. Weeks ago he told us what he wanted. The night before his last MRI, Luca held his Momma tightly all night long, and before he fell asleep, said “Momma, hold me here, in this house, in this bed, forever.”

Far be it from us to treat Luca like a child. We knew him all too well. The wives tale had held true. Luca was incredibly intuitive. All his life, the mystery and wonder in his big, wide eyes.

We knew how special Luca was. He seemed to have a purpose, he was determined, and he always knew exactly what he wanted. In some way, in retrospect, it seemed as if Luca knew that he would be short to this world. Perhaps that is why he never wanted to go to sleep, why he always insisted on enjoying our friends and family until the moon was high in the sky.

We always listened to him. Throughout his life, Megan would ask Luca’s opinions on the most un-childlike things; Should Momma and Dee-aad buy this house? Is the correct way to turn left or is it right? How many heartbeats do you hear?

Luca was instantly at peace every time he would twirl his Momma’s hair. The three of us would be in bed and I would roll over to kiss Megan while he twirled her hair, and I would joke, “She’s my wife.” He would joke back and say, “No Dee-aad, she’s my wife. You go back to your parking spot.”

Luca loved the great outdoors. He loved to work, to push things. To help us clean, to help us dig. He enjoyed listening to Springsteen and dancing with his Momma in the kitchen. He had an acquired taste; loved eating three course meals, not kid food…Asparagus, salad, filet, tuna with wasabi sauce.

He adored Cohasset’s Sandy Beach, and Scituate Harbor. We took him wherever we went; across the border into Canada, up the mountains on the trails of Maine, to weekend parties in Vermont, to the beaches of Cape Cod and Florida, to New York City and Martha’s Vineyard. He asked questions and listened to answers.

Luca never cared much for television or opening gifts. Quite the contrary. For Luca, it wasn’t about himself, it was about others. I remember after his initial surgery when Luca was unable to walk for about a week, he had heard that I was going to make popcorn in the hospital microwave. He brought a smile to my face when I looked down the hall to see him come towards me, take the popcorn, and walk into the rooms of the other patients and offer in that sweet little voice, “you want popcorn?”

There were so many wonderful little moments like that. For instance, he would find a coin on the floor, and instead of saying that he wanted to buy candy for himself, Luca would say “I will go to the store and buy water, for you.” Or, he would, without prompting, randomly pick a flower for his Momma.

Luca loved a book called “Rainbow Fish.” It’s about a beautiful little fish that was unique because he had many shiny, sparkling, colorful scales which the other fish did not have. Yet, the Rainbow Fish was not liked by the other fish because he refused to share his scales with them. As the book goes, the Rainbow Fish could not understand why other fish did not like him. So, one day the Rainbow Fish turned to a wise octopus, Luca’s favorite page, who gave him advice on how to be happy. The wise octopus advised the Rainbow Fish to share his scales with the other fish. Which the Rainbow Fish did, and which allowed the Rainbow Fish to discover the fulfillment of happiness.

When I would read the story to Luca, in order to teach him how to share, I would always analogize Luca to the Rainbow Fish. Yet, it wasn’t until this tragedy that I realized that Luca is more appropriately the wise octopus. And that I was the Rainbow Fish. Luca was teaching me “how to be happy”.

It’s ironic, I’m his dee-aad … I’m supposed to teach him the lessons. Yet, it couldn’t have been more the opposite. Luca taught me true love, he taught me how to be a good husband and to strengthen my marriage, he taught me how to be courageous, how to live, and how to die.

On the darkest days, I would pray and pray till my hands turned blue, till I could cry no more. I would pray for a cure … for a miracle. I was angry, scared, and sad that my prayers were falling on deaf ears. The nurses were wrong, he wasn’t lucky, I thought, as was to be the case.

But, upon reflection, I realized that I was wrong, that my prayers were in fact answered.

LUCA is the miracle. Luca has been the miracle for 1,275 days, and will continue to be for the rest of our lives.

I witnessed that, as the cancer was working on his body, Luca’s spirit simultaneously triumphed; it grew stronger; more focused, concentrated, pure. He wasn’t unlucky. He chose to give the greatest gift of all: he gave the luck to us.

This child embodied and projected the HOLY SPIRIT each and every day.

People have asked us: how can you be so strong? How will you go on?

Now we will share our secret with you…

We will miss him for sure, every minute, every breath. Yet, do not be sad; join us and rejoice. For, HE is OUR savior…

As in Rainbow Fish, the waves have told Luca your story, and this is Luca’s advice:

Surround yourselves with happiness;
Let the holy spirit shine through you as it has in HIM;
Reject the hollow temptations of this world that suppress your beauty,
your spirit, your soul;
Share yourselves with others;
Do not waste time;
Do not allow yourselves to be distracted;
Be courageous and loving;
And, do it every minute of your lives.

Now, please, join hands and bow your heads, and take a moment to remember HIS smile, HIS voice, HIS laughter, and HIS warmth.

Dearest Luca, Momma and Dee-aad love you very much. It will always be the three of us. And, please know, you have made us soooo happy. May god bless you for eternity.

Amen.

[ End of Eulogy ]

Submitted To:
The Magical Moon Foundation
P.O. Box 83
Marshfield Hills, MA 02051