Paul George Dudley

Paul G. Dudley, of Northville, 50 years old, husband of Jennifer, father of Kate (11) and George (9), son of George and Joan Dudley and son-in-law of Pam and Pete Marquardt, passed into the hands of the Lord on October 18th. Paul was preceded in death by his sister Maribeth Smith. He is survived by his sisters Julie Dudley McCarthy and Kathryn (David) Szary, brother-in-law Bill Smith and brother-in-law David (April) Marquardt. Paul is uncle to Jack and Jessica Smith, Aidan and Brennan McCarthy, and Sarah, Allison, Will, and Ben Marquardt.

Paul graduated from Western Michigan University with a degree in Computer Science. He spent 10 plus years in the computer industry. At the time of his passing he worked for Neogen Corporation in Lansing. In his free time Paul enjoyed working out, running, and especially salmon fishing. Many hours were devoted to his love of music and composing numerous songs. He loved his family and always found the time to spend with the children; soccer with George and swimming with Kate.

Visitation for Paul will be held at Harry J. Will Funeral Home in Livonia on Wednesday, October 23rd from 4pm-8pm. The Mass of Resurrection will be celebrated at 11am (in-state at 10am) on Thursday, October 24th at St. Kenneth Church, on Haggerty Road in Plymouth Township. In lieu of flowers memorials may be made to FARE, Wounded Warriors or charity of choice.

The Eulogy of

Paul George Dudley

May 25, 1969 – October 18, 2019

October 24, 2019

Good morning, my name is Wayne Joseph. My wife Carolyn and I have had the great good fortune to have spent 20+ years living next to the World’s Greatest Neighbors, Joan and George Dudley. I am privileged to deliver this eulogy on the family’s behalf.

I would like to begin honoring Paul with words from the American poet, Mark Nepo and his brilliant poem about the process of mourning our loved ones who have passed on. It is entitled:

I Shout Their Names

- Mark Nepo

I'm at an age where those I’ve known

for years are dying. Some go quick, like

snow on a warm day. Some more slowly;

as if every week is a tide that takes them

farther and farther away.

To lose someone you know is to be

seized by an invisible hand that pulls

a clump of earth from your heart.

Only after months is it possible to

realize—there is more room to feel.

Now I see your faces in the knots of

trees and chase leaves because I some-

how think they hold things you

meant to say. Now I cry at garlic

bread because you loved its smell.

Perhaps this is your gift to us:

to take up space so far in

that when you go, you empty us out.

And in our grief, we look for you

everywhere till against our will

we rediscover the world.

Paul George Dudley was born on May 25, 1969 at Mt Carmel Hospital in Detroit. The third of the four children and the only son born to Joan and George Dudley. Paul entered into eternal life, unexpectedly, on October 18th. He was 50 years of age.

He married Jennifer Marquardt in 2005 and they brought two amazing children into the world, Kate and George. Paul was preceded in death by his sister Maribeth Smith. He is survived by his parents, his sisters Julie Dudley McCarthy and Kathryn Szary and her husband David, by his brother-in-law Bill Smith and brother-in-law David Marquardt and his wife April. Additionally, he is survived by his in-laws Pam and Pete Marquardt, Paul is uncle to Jack and Jessica Smith, Aidan and Brennan McCarthy, and Sarah, Allison, Will, and Ben Marquardt.

Paul graduated from Western Michigan University with a degree in Computer Science. He spent 10 plus years in the computer industry. At the time of his passing he worked for Neogen Corporation in Lansing.

One of the prized stories of Paul’s childhood involved his locking himself in his room upon hearing the news of the birth of his youngest sister Kathryn. His two older sisters were quite enough for him. He desperately wanted a baby brother. But, in the end, he lived for the love of his sisters.

In his free time Paul enjoyed working out, running, and especially fishing. Many hours were devoted to his love of music and composing numerous songs. Paul was also a bit of child prodigy in music. He was self taught. And by third grade he was learning the drums, the piano and, his favorite, the guitar. Paul loved to perform music with, and for, his family. His niece Jessica remembers fondly the family vacations in Ludington and how she couldn’t wait to get to the fire pit in the evenings. They would roast marshmallows and the entire family joined Paul in harmonizing John Denver’s classic “Country Road” among many other melodies.

The family spoke effusively about Paul’s kind and loving nature. How he was always concerned about the well-being of others wanting everyone else to be happy. His wife Jennifer said she loved how funny Paul was, or at least, how funny he thought he was. His son George said his father always had a way to make people laugh and what he will miss most is playing Dungeons and Dragons with his dad. His daughter, Kate, while peeking out from under her father’s favorite U of M hat, shared the times she cherished most with her father. How he would tell her stories in bed and joke around until she fell asleep. She felt the greatest sense of trust with her father and could confide her deepest thoughts with him knowing he would protect them.

Kate and George, if I may, I believe the words of your father’s last Facebook post were a message to you both. He wrote, “I am not impressed by (your) money, position or title. I am impressed by how you treat others.”

Simply put, he was telling you that regardless of your state in life, be kind to others and to each other. The Golden Rule. There is an old proverb that states, “When your father dies, may you inherit his light. May you stand up and walk in his sun.” That is our wish for you.

Paul’s mother, Joan, shared that her son was a great, humble, understanding child who could keep himself occupied throughout childhood. He loved animals especially birds. He had many pet birds throughout his life. Joan related the story of how once, during dinner, they heard a loud thump coming from the nearby birdcage. Apparently one of Paul’s birds had suffered a heart attack and keeled over dead putting a serious dent in the family festivities. A despondent Paul conducted a funeral for his pet bird the next day. Paul was also known to become the imaginary owner of an imaginary Pizzeria, Abe’s Pizza, to foil telemarketers who were calling trying to sell their wares. Paul would wear them down with his fake accent and relentless chatter about the daily specials at Abe’s Pizza until, out of frustration, the telemarketer would just hang up.

George, Paul’s father and best friend, believed that Paul was most at peace, when he was on the water. Fish, Fly or Float, the water was his happiest place. This view is held by his brother-in-law Bill as well. He said they could spend the entire day fishing and it would invariably end up as another perfect day. There were countless, memorable fishing trips all across our country, even Canada and Alaska. Indelible memories minted in each expedition. The nieces and nephews all spoke of how Paul would teach them to fish, like his father and his father’s father taught him. It’s said, if culture is what we build our identities on, then fly fishing and a gathered family were a recurrent symbol of the Dudleys. If you’ll allow me a personal note, Joan and George after dealing with yet another enormous challenge in your lives, I must tell you how much I admire your profuse strength and your astounding faith. You are a beacon not only to your family but to all of us who are blessed by your friendship. It is said that prayers are the words we say when we have no words. In this moment and in the days to come, please hear our silent prayers for your family as words escape most of us now.

The fact that Paul has passed beyond our physical sight does not limit our ability to embrace him, to speak to him. I would like to share with you the poem of the English poet, James Dillett Freeman, written on the death of his beloved brother. It is entitled:

The Traveler

James Dillett Freeman

He has put on invisibility, dear Lord, I cannot see, but this I know

although the road ascends and passes from my sight,

there will be no night.

That you will take him gently by the hand and lead him on along

the road of life that never ends.

and he will find that it’s not death, but dawn.

I do not doubt that you are there, as here,

and you will hold him dear.

Our life does not begin with birth.

It is not of this earth.

and this that we call “death” is no more

than the opening and the closing of a door.

and in your house, dear Lord,

how many rooms must be

beyond this one where we rest momently?

Dear Lord, we thank you for the faith that frees.

The love that knows it cannot lose its own.

The love, that looking through the shadows see

that you, and he, and we are ever one.

In closing, we recognize that a light in the family is gone. A voice we loved to listen to is stilled. A place is vacant in the home. We have to say that Paul’s death being so sudden made it unspeakably upsetting. And yet the emotion that it evoked, the sympathy, the love, the renewed dedication to family proves that his abbreviated time on earth was not wasted.

Today, we say goodbye to someone who made our lives better, more whole. He is at peace and as sad as we may be, I believe Paul would want us all to remember him for the person he was always striving, so hard, to be.

And what I choose to learn from Paul’s time among us is a life lesson forged from his every day…a seminar in his simple sentence…a tutorial in kindness…a measure of the man brought to life with his prophetic words every time upon entering your home:

“What can I do?”

Now dear Lord, take back the soul of Paul George Dudley whom you have shared with us…he brought us joy…we loved him well.