Lighting a candle in October the month of Dad's birthday as the leaves turn beautiful, vivid colors of fall.

Lighting a candle for Dad today, June 11, 2010.  Always in my heart.

Thinking of you on this beautiful spring day. If you were here, you would be pruning the Flowering Crab-Apples most likely. I can still see you there sitting on a branch with your giant pruners.  Love and miss you so much. Still trying to accept that you are gone. There will never be another person like you, Daddy.  Hoping that all this writing helps me to get over this somehow.

“He that is thy friend indeed,
He will help thee in thy need:
If thou sorrow, he will weep;
If thou wake, he cannot sleep:
Thus of every grief in heart
He with thee does bear a part.
These are certain signs to know
Faithful friend from flattering foe.”

W. Shakespeare

God took the strength of a mountain,
The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun,
The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature, 
The comforting arm of night, 
The wisdom of the ages,
The power of the eagle's flight.
Then God combined these qualities, 
When there was nothing more to add, 
He knew his masterpiece was complete and he called it, "Dad". (Author unknown)

No longer limited by space and time, my Dad and I are more inseparable than ever now that he is gone. I don't think I'll ever be the same now that I have this big hole in my heart. In a phone message from last summer, he says, "Cheryl this is Dad, would you give me a call please?". Does anyone know the phone number there in heaven? :) Anyway, miss him terribly. I don't know why but it seems especially palpable on Sundays.

"You're in the arms of the angels. May you find some comfort here." S. McLaughlin

At Star I honestly just remember him always doing his work, not joking around like the other guys did, and he would smile a soft smile and be humble. There was no fear around him, just an honest hard working guy. Respected.
Hope you are finding a little more peace each day forward.

Be Still My Soul

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: your best, your heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: your God will undertake
To guide the future as He has the past.
Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shall you better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe your sorrow and your fears.
Be still, my soul: your Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Text: Katharina von Schlegel, 1752
Translated by Jane Borthwick, 1855

Do not weep for me, for I have lived...
I have joined my hand with my fellows' hands, to leave the planet better than I found it.

Do not weep for me, for I have loved and been loved by my family, by those I loved who loved me back. For I never knew a stranger, only friends. 

Do not weep for me.  
When you feel the ocean spray upon your face, I am there. 
When your heart beats faster at the dolphin's leaping grace,
I am there. 
When you reach out to touch another's heart, as I now touch God's face,
I am there. 
Do not weep for me. I am not gone.
                 (Author unknown)

The Gentle Man
His life was gentle, and his mind
The little splendors seemed to find.

The baser side side of life he saw,
But from the blemish and the flaw
He turned, as if he understood
That none of us is wholly good.

He lived as one who seemed to know
That as the swift days come and go
Clouds blanket skies that should be fair,
Rain is encountered everywhere,

And so o’er every human form
Must blow at times the bitter storm.

As one who loves a garden, he
Walked round the world its charms to see
Not only by the rose he stayed,
The tiniest violet in the shade

On his devotion could depend,
To great and low he played the friend.
And as the gardener seems to give
More care to plants which fight to live

So he, with tenderer regard,
Befriended those whose tasks were hard.
Thus dealing gently, he became
More than a high and haughty name.

This was his wealth, that good and bad
Of him some happy memory had.

This was his fame, that high and low

Gert, Cheryl, Steven, Patty and Jody. When my uncle Carmin called to tell me of Nick's passing, my heart was saddened. I remember Gert, that you and Nick came to my Dad's funeral to pay your respect's, and I am sorry I could not be there to pay mine to a great man. So many fond memories of my childhood growing up spending time at your home. How kind Nick was to me, his smile and gentle manner will be missed. But Gert, you are surrounded by a wonderful family, who's love will support you in your time of need. Both Val and I send eternal prayers and love to all of you, God Bless.

Eulogy for my father, Nicholas Joseph Sottile
October 3, 1928 –May 2, 2010


Thank you all for sharing this day with us to celebrate my father’s life.

It was no secret how I felt about my Dad. He was everything to me. 

In talking to some of my friends and family about my father over the past few days, I kept hearing the words, kind, unassuming, quiet, gentle, compassionate, a good listener, generous, genuine.    

My cousin Maria said  “Your dad was so much loved by all of us for his gentle, sweet and caring ways and especially the way he loved your mom.” 

My father loved working in the yard and had an almost encyclopedic knowledge about growing things.  He was a kind of botany expert. If you asked him a question about your grass, tree or plants, he would give you a complete analysis of what you would need to do to make your plants healthy.   

You could say that his whole life was like a garden.  He would only be able to work with what he had -within the confines of the amount of land, the New England weather, soil, pests, predators. What would he would grow in it?   He would need to enrich the soil, work hard at it, nurture it, care for it, and he would need to wait so patiently before reaping the harvest.  

His neighbor and good friend, Jo Costello, said he was “a very, very special person”, a good friend, neighbor - a role model.”  We knew him as our dear, loving and devoted father, grandfather,  a devout Catholic, and husband, with a warm, soft, voice, who used to whistle when he came home from work.  His family meant everything to him. If you look at photographs of him, you can see in his eyes and smiles and the way he gathered up the grandchildren in his big, strong arms, the simple pleasures in which he partook, in just simply being with us.  

Yes, he was a quiet, gentle, unassuming man.  He put himself last – always worrying about everyone else. But, he was also a man of strength, substance and character.  He just didn’t broadcast anything about himself - ever.  No airs, no pretentiousness, no fanfare.  Just Nick, pure and simple. That was just who he was.  

His dear Grandmother and Grandfather Vanaria were his rock and refuge and he loved them very much. They affectionately called him, “Sonny” which was a befitting nickname since, as a young boy, he brought his characteristic ray of sunshine into their world. 

My father was an exceptional track and field athlete for Concord High School in the late 1940s.  He was the captain of his High School track team and he held records for speed running: the mile relay, the 220 and the 100 yard dash. It was because of him that Concord came in 3rd in the Nationals at Villanova in 1947.
We wonder how he accomplished so much in the face of such adversity.  The farm business always seemed to out-prioritize his attending track practice. Even still, he referred to these track and field memories as the happiest days of his youth. Boston University offered him an athletic scholarship, which he did not accept because he felt his mother needed him to keep things going at Concord Gardens.

Dad was a proud American Citizen, a member of “The Greatest Generation” to the core of his being. He wouldn’t think of buying anything that wasn’t made in America.  He once thought he might purchased a set of 5 lb weights at Ocean State.  He said they were just what he was looking for except that they weren’t made in America. So he returned them.  He knew there was someone out there who needed a job to feed their family.

When he was 25, just before leaving for Korea to serve our country,  he met our mother.  

He always said Mom was the best thing that ever happened to him. He vowed that things would be different from his stormy days at Concord Gardens……….that he would marry my mother and be her protector -  that his family would be his number one priority.  And he fulfilled that vow in spades. 

From his farm days, he knew what was an honest day's work and delivered it without complaint or failure – ever.    Brandeis University was fortunate to have hired him to landscape and beautify their campus. Always blooming where he was, he drew from his expert knowledge about growing things and created an award winning college campus. Photographs of his beautiful landscapes,  lush gardens, acres of tulips, trees, lily ponds and rolling hills of green grass appeared in a magazine. Other Universities would send their grounds managers to him for advice.  

He would often be called into work during a huge snow storm in the middle of the night. I remember hearing the phone ring and wondering how he could do it. He would simply and quietly get up, get dressed and go out into the dark,  cold, snowy blizzard while we slept in our warm beds. I can only believe that he made these sacrifices for us in order  to provide us with a level of stability and comfort he never had himself when he was a child.  I also believe that he loved his life. He loved being a family man, a one-woman man.  He did everything for us.

At the dinner table, Dad seemed to always have milk spilled on him by one of us. Mom would pour the milk and someone always ended up tipping over a glass.  No matter where he sat, he couldn’t escape it.   It never spilled on anybody else, it always spilled on Dad. Even if the spiller sat diagonally across from dad, or two seats down from him, somehow, the milk landed on him.  At first I thought it was my imagination but it happened too often to ignore. Sometimes, when he tried too hard to predict where the next spill would happen, 2 glasses of milk would spill on him.  Fortunately, my Dad was an athlete and he developed a quick deke maneuver back and away from the table.  

Dad was a friend to all. He was by his very nature, nonjudgmental, accepting of all of humanity and he  had an amazing gift for listening to people.  His Grand-daughter, Courtney said he would look right into your eyes, when he spoke to you. He would hear you with his ears, his heart and his soul.   

His great listening gift earned him the trust of his many of his associates at Brandeis University including the college presidents, his co-workers, coaches, players,  The Boston Celtics who practiced there,  and even…… Dy-Dy….. Carpenter. 

You may be wondering who might be Dy-dy Carpenter.  My father was a compassionate man. He had friends from all walks of life.  The color of your skin, your ethnic background, your gender, your religion, your social standing in the community didn’t matter. Dy-dy Carpenter was well known to many Sudbury residents during the 50s and 60s as a kind soul who got around town on his 3-speed bicycle. Dy-dy knew my father’s work schedule at his part-time job in Sudbury Center.  On Saturdays he would ride his bicycle to my father’s place of employment to visit him. Why?  Because my father listened to him with his great gifts for being quiet, compassionate and just listening. It is interesting to note that my father could not hear at all from his left ear.  

We are so grateful to my father for what he did for us and there aren’t enough words to express it.  

• Building our home in Sudbury. To us it represents a solid rock of stability. 
• He took us tobogganing on Sundays at  Lincoln-Sudbury High School. He laughed at our sled collisions.  Afterward, when he returned home, he would collapse in a swath of warm sunlight in the front hall and fall asleep. We tape-recorded him snoring and played it back later. 
• Late one night my mother thought she heard an intruder.  No problem. He turned on all the floodlights walked into the backyard and picked up a brick…..…... That’s all you need. 
• He planted our beautiful garden and maintained our yard with its flowering trees and plants, year after year. 
• He believed that more is worse; less is better well before the “Go Green” movement.  In fact he only recently stopped wearing the slippers I gave him for Christmas in 1979.  He didn’t throw them away. He just stopped wearing them and switched to a new pair. 

My father was one of The Greatest Generation.  He was a proud American serving in the Armed Forces in the Korean War.  In recent years, when my father was not in the best of health he  was compelled to volunteer at the Veteran’s Hospital in Bedford, Massachusetts. To these often forgotten heroes of our foreign wars he would bring his trademark gifts of  thanks, listening attentively, compassion, homemade food, solace and comfort.  

My father fought quietly and valiantly when his health was failing and he was struggling to breathe.  Even still he worried about us and constantly worked to fill his life with purpose and optimism and hope.  He was uncomfortable asking for help from the dedicated and compassionate nurses at Emerson Hospital and Wingate.  He truly was a winner all the way to the last day. 

My father had a profound impact on our lives.  He was our hero. We were his precious family.  We would do anything for him. The night before he died, his grandchildren dropped everything to attend an all night vigil at his bedside. The hospital gave us blankets and pillows and we were sprawled out everywhere as we took turns watching over him.  The room was filled with his love. He passed away at 6 o’clock on Sunday morning just one day before his 57th wedding anniversary. It was very sad, but also very loving, peaceful and beautiful. 

In a world where we may fall prey to others’ definition of success, and occasionally have misplaced priorities and values, my father was exemplary. We admired the way he lived life with simplicity and goodness. That was his wealth.  My friend Joe Costello and my cousin Maria, reminded me that these were priceless gifts from him that we can all take away. To simply be a good person in this world  is a great accomplishment.  

Bessie Stanley wrote: 
“He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who has never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; whose life was an inspiration; whose memory a benediction.” [published 11/30/1905 in the Lincoln (Kansas) Sentinel

To Daddy

Daddy, thank you for being you, for loving us and taking care of us. Considering your past before Mom, it was truly a miracle that you were able to love us so perfectly.  

Dad, you will always be our hero. You were special and we knew it. Even though we knew we couldn’t have you forever,  you left us with your precious gifts of listening, compassion, kindness, acceptance and selflessness. 

George Harrison said, “All things must pass”.  Accepting you are gone will not be easy. You were a “one-in-a-million.”  Last night I woke up imagining you going home to Jesus. You’ll no longer need to fight so hard against the relentless chill, aches and pains and loss. You’re probably getting the garden ready – a most beautiful and perfect garden.  I love you Daddy. Rest in peace.

Dear Trudy and family,

We are so sorry for your loss. Nick was a wonderful man and gentle soul who was loved by all.  We will truly miss him.  You are all in our thoughts and prayers.

Dear Trudy, So sorry about your loss. My heart goes out for you and your family.  Pat (Spinelli) Brynild.

Dear Aunt Trudy,  Uncle Nick will surely bring as much joy to Heaven as he did to us here. His gentle sweet demeanor will always live in my heart.  May God give you ease and strength in your healing. Love, Maria

Trudy,
I am so sorry for your loss.

Joe Cetrone

Gert, Cheryl, Steven, Patty & Jody, When my brother called to tell me about what happened my heart just sank.  My thoughts and prayers are with you through this most difficult time.  With all my love, David Rando

Trudy, 
Our heart goes out to you and your family at this difficult time
 The Hall Family

Dear Trudy, I was very sorry to hear of your loss. You are in my thoughts and prayers. Fondly, Lorraine (Clifford) Chute

AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Nicholas J. Sottile

3 octobre 1928 – 2 mai 2010

Duckett Funeral Home of J.S. Waterman & Sons

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