James Joseph Erdy Jr.

James “Jim” Joseph Erdy, Jr., aged 77, of Peachtree Corners, GA, passed away on February 17, 2026 in Atlanta, GA. Jim’s passing has left a deep void in the hearts of all who loved him. A beloved husband, father and grandfather, Jim touched the lives of many with his wisdom, advice and generosity.

Born on July 10, 1948 in Dearborn, Michigan, Jim was the only child of James Joseph Erdy and Julia Susan Wixner. Jim graduated from Wayne State University with an undergraduate degree in 1971 and University of Detroit Mercy with his MBA in Operations Research. He married Kathy Louise Walker on May 31, 1980 in Westerville, Ohio. Kathy graduated from Ohio State University in 1973. Over the course of his 34-year career at International Business Machines, he had numerous roles starting as a Systems Engineer and finishing in Sales. He approached every project with precision and a deep commitment to his customers.

In his personal life, Jim found joy in woodworking, bowling and spending time with his family. He was a man of many stories, always having a unique and insightful experience to share. A lifelong learner, he spent his retirement years reading and learning new skills like speaking Italian.

Jim was preceded in death by both his father and mother, James Joseph Erdy and Julia Susan Wixner .

Jim is survived by his loving wife, Kathy L. Erdy; his daughters Rebecca V. Erdy (and her husband Kennith M. Smith, Jr.) and Christine J. Erdy; and granddaughter Allyson M. Smith, who was the light of his later years.

The visitation will be held on Sunday, February 22, 2026 from 5:00pm to 6:30 pm followed by a Rosary at 6:30 to 7:00pm at H.M. Patterson & Son, 4550 Peachtree Rd NE, Brookhaven. Friends and colleagues are invited to attend and share stories that reflect the life and legacy of a man who was always willing to help and guide.

Funeral Mass will be held Monday, February 23, 2026 at 11:00 am at Saint Brigid Catholic Church, 3400 Old Alabama Road, Johns Creek. Burial will follow at Arlington Memorial Park, 201 Mount Vernon Highway NW, Sandy Springs. Arrangements are by H.M. Patterson & Son.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to the Wounded Warrior Project.

Rebecca Erdy-Smith's Eulogy

Today, we gather with heavy hearts to honor, remember, and celebrate the life of my dad — a man whose love shaped who I am, whose presence brought comfort and strength, and whose memory will remain with us forever.

It’s hard to find the right words for someone who meant so much. How do you summarize a lifetime of love, guidance, and steady support? How do you say goodbye to someone who wasn’t just a father, but a safe place?

When I think about my childhood, I don’t think of one big moment. I think of a feeling — the feeling of being deeply loved.

I remember when Dad would come home from the troubles of the corporate world. No matter how hard his day had been, he would open his arms wide and wait for us to run into them. And we always did. In that moment, everything else disappeared. The stress he carried, the noise of the world — it all melted away in that embrace. His arms were safety. They were peace. Without saying a word, he showed us that we were his greatest joy.

That was who my dad was. No matter how tired he was, he showed up. He chose love first.

I also remember going with him to dog training school for our dog, Bob. Dad was so proud — proud of Bob, proud of the ribbons he won, proud of the time and patience it took to get there. It might have seemed like a small thing, but to him it mattered. He believed in showing up, putting in the effort, and celebrating the victories — big or small. And he made those ordinary moments feel special.

As I grew older, his love never faded. It became encouragement when I doubted myself. It became calm when I felt afraid. It became a steady voice reminding me I was never alone.

Today there is an emptiness where his laughter once was. We wish for one more conversation, one more hug. But even in our grief, we hold onto faith.

We believe he is in a better place — free from pain, at peace, and in God’s presence. And knowing the man he was, I truly believe he has been called to a new mission. The same heart that comforted us here is now being used in a greater way.

Dad, I miss you more than words can say. But I carry you with me — in my heart, in my memories, and in the way I try to love others the way you loved me.

Thank you for your strength. Thank you for your gentleness. Thank you for your unwavering love.

Until we meet again, I will hold onto the peace of knowing you are safe in God’s hands.

I love you, Dad.

Always and forever.

Christine Erdy's Eulogy

Today we gather to honor a man, who was in so many ways an imperfect, perfect dad. He wasn't flawless, none of us are, but he taught us what truly matters: growth, effort and love.

Dad wasn't perfect, and honestly, he never claimed to be. This is the same man who could fix anything in the house, except the things he actually broke trying to fix. Anyone who remembers the front door transom installations knows what I am talking about. The same man who would tell us to "calm down" while being the least calm person the room.

But that is what made him Dad and Jim to us.

His imperfection weren't flaws; they were his fingerprints. They were signs of a man who tried, learned and tried again.

Dad built a legacy not out of grand gestures, but out of everyday choices he made to better than he was the day before. He taught us that improvement isn't always dramatic.

Sometimes it is quiet, sometimes it is slow, it often becomes visible when you look back years later. Like the way he eventually learned to use the TV remote without calling one of us for tech support.

That was his real legacy - Always do better, even if it just a little bit at a time.

He showed us that being a good person does not require perfect, just effort.

Dad's imperfect perfection showed up in the all the best ways:

- He didn't always say the right thing, but he always meant well.

- He didn't try to be hero, yet he became one by showing up with honesty and consistency.

We never doubted that he loved us all.

If we want to honor him, we don't need to be perfect either.

We just need to keep improving - inch by inch - like he did.

His legacy isn't a grand moment. It's a trail of small steps and the quiet belief that better is always possible.

And that - imperfect or not - is the kind of perfection worth remembering.

Love you, Dad.. Always.

Roberta's Eulogy

I would like to share a memory of Jim, my friend and my student

With me, he was Giacomo, the Italian version of his name, and that is how I will always remember him.

I was his Italian teacher, but very soon I realized that, in many ways, he was the teacher, and I was the one learning so much from him.

I met Giacomo five years ago, and from that moment on, we had two lessons every week, every Tuesday and every Thursday. It became our fixed appointment, a rhythm we both looked forward to.

In my years of teaching Italian, I have never met anyone as motivated, curious, and genuinely interested in learning as Giacomo. He approached every lesson with enthusiasm and creativity, always finding his own ways to study and practice the language. He was not a traditional student and did not enjoy textbooks; instead, he created his own materials, and more recently experimented with Al to build resources for our lessons. In doing so, he not only continued learning but also inspired and taught me, sharing advice and explanations that I will always value.

He was a lifelong learner. His knowledge of world history and global events always impressed me.

Over time, our lessons became conversations between friends. Through him, I had the privilege of occasionally speaking with Kathy and getting to know his beautiful family.

Although we lived far apart -I in Italy, he there with you - we remained close and in constant contact. He witnessed my professional struggles over the years and, more than once, offered encouragement and kept me in his prayers during difficult moments. That support meant more to me than I can fully express, and I will never forget it.

I hope his family finds comfort in knowing how deeply he was cared for — not only there with you, but also on the other side of the Atlantic, in Europe, all the way to Sicily. His kindness will be remembered far beyond borders.

I know that his love will continue to surround his beautiful daughters, Christine and Rebecca, his lovely wife Kathy, and his sweet Allyson. In the quiet moments, may they feel his presence close to them, guiding and comforting them with the same strength and tenderness he always showed.

Thank you, Giacomo, for the immense honor of being your teacher.

As I would always say at the end of our lessons, goodbye, Giacomo.

Or as he would prefer... arrivederci.