In Celebration of My Father, Pasquale Morelli – Part II

I’ll always remember how your eyes lit up when I performed one of my little magic tricks. You cheered me on like I was Houdini. You didn’t just tolerate my dreams—you fueled them. Whether it was acting, illusions, or ministry, you stood in my corner, clapping the loudest. You were proud of me—unconditionally. And that gave me courage to chase my purpose.

You were more than a father—you were my shelter, my root, my quiet strength. You brought me into this world, and then you stood guard over my life. So many times, you absorbed pain so I wouldn’t have to. You carried burdens silently, shielded me from harshness, and gave me the rare gift of safety in a fragile world.

I miss you, Pop. I will miss kissing you on the cheek, feeling your unshaven face against mine. I’ll miss your laughter, that deep and genuine joy you carried, and the sparkle in your eye when you smiled. I’ll miss our talks—your voice, your stories, your wisdom. Life won’t be the same without you here.

But your legacy lives on. In me. In Frank. In Brian. In every life you touched with your kindness and creativity. This world is better because Pasquale Morelli walked through it for 88 full, vibrant years.
Thank you, Dad—for your life, your love, and every sacrifice you made. I will carry your legacy forward. I will honor your name in the way I live, love, and serve. And one day, I’ll see you again—in heaven.

Until then, rest in peace, Pop.

With all my love,
Your son,
Michael

In Celebration of My Father, Pasquale Morelli – Part I 

Dad, I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will. Words fall short when I try to express how deeply I will miss you. You were the steady presence in my life—the one who stood by me when no one else did. You saw something in me when others overlooked me or gave up.
I remember those long hours at the kitchen table when I struggled as a child to understand reading and math. You never lost patience. Instead, you leaned in, gently guiding me through each problem, encouraging me with every step. You told me I was smart when I felt defeated. You believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself. Those moments shaped me—they planted something in me that would grow for a lifetime. Dad, thank you for never walking away, for never giving up on your son.
As I celebrate your life, I can’t help but reflect on the incredible gift God gave you—the gift of art. Your paintings were more than just colors on canvas; they were expressions of your heart. Every brushstroke held meaning, every canvas told a story. You brought beauty into the world and into people’s homes. You left behind not only framed works of art, but framed moments of joy. Your creativity was a language of love, and that love lives on through every piece you left behind.

Your Family, Mother, Siblings, and In-laws

You were a wonderful man, Uncle Pat. I especially will remember all the Sundays you spent at my childhood home, sharing dinners with us and talking about the Phillies. May God grant you eternal rest. So happy we got to chat lately. You will be missed. Love, your Niece, Cindy

Your Mother and your Siblings as young children

To Brian and Family....

My heartfelt sympathy for your loss.  Pat was a longtime dear
friend and a great guy.   I will miss him.

Sincerely,

Carol Sohmer

A Tribute - Part 3

Dad was very proud of Brian. Like Dad, Brian is mechanically inclined. He developed exceptional skills as a city mechanic and now works at the Indian Motorcycle Company. He is among the best in the nation. Dad lived to see his sons become successful. Michael is an evangelist and entrepreneur; I am a psychotherapist with my practice.

Dad once asked me, "Do you help a lot of people? Are you putting them above money?" I told Dad that I did. Dad always believed people should be treated with respect, kindness, and dignity. I learned this from him.

When he retired, Dad pursued his lifelong dream of learning to paint and sculpt. He joyfully gave away his paintings to anyone who wanted them, raising money for the Senior Center and the Catholic Church. My wife and I have 13 of his paintings in our home. In typical Dad fashion, he downplayed his skills and never considered himself anything more than a guy who enjoys creating art. Dad was always humble.

Dad devoted himself to the church, the community, and his family. He volunteered to read stories to children and always loved kids, lighting up around them. He was a friend to everyone at the Senior Center and prepared meals to raise money for their projects. As time passed, his wife's health began to decline.

Dad was a devoted husband. With loving care, he attended to Pat's needs, and along with Brian, he was there every step of the way until she passed. Dad told me, in tears, "She was so good to me."

My wife loved Dad, and having him at our home in Florida has always been a joy. Dad shared his love of cooking with my wife and could not do enough to make us happy. As an animal lover, he enjoyed my dog, Pepper, who loved him too. We took him to see the Van Gogh Experience in Jacksonville, and I have videos of Dad soaking up the moment.

A Tribute - Part 4

As Dad slowed down in his final years, Brian stepped up to provide loving care and attention. Dad was always very appreciative of what our brother did for him. I am incredibly grateful to Brian for being a wonderful son to Dad.

Dad never wanted to bother anyone with his problems. He disliked being a "burden" to anyone. He could be very private, and I understood that he did not want to hurt me or put me out in any way. It was okay; it was Dad being himself. Brian and Michael called me on the morning he passed. I did not know he was in the hospital. I understood why; this was Dad, always thinking about the feelings of others.

God gave us a good, decent, loving man. Years ago, he told me, "All I ever wanted [in life] was a family." He wanted to be a family man. You did it, Dad.

I will cherish my memories. I will always love you, Dad. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and there are no regrets. I hope to be half the man you were. There are many things I could have shared with you and wanted to, and I wish we had more time together. That is how it always is for a son who misses his Daddy.

Now he belongs to God. Dad, our Savior has promised you your reward. My time will come too. I will see you again, Dad. Get your rod ready. We will go fishing in the River of Life and camp by the Tree of Life.

I love you, Dad.

Frank

A Tribute - Part 2

It was tough for my dad after my parents divorced. He struggled for a while but never gave up. He rebuilt his life and eventually landed a job with the City of Philadelphia, where he outworked everyone. Given the political climate, Dad was overlooked for promotions. Still, he was finally awarded a position that took him off the streets and out of the weather to a desk job as a supervisor overseeing a major city-wide Water Department project. I am proud of what my dad accomplished despite his heartbreak.

When I was 17 years old and preparing to go to college, my dad had his first health scare. I was present when Dr. Girardo said, "Pat, you need this surgery. Without it, I give you three weeks to live." I was already an anxious teenager; what a frightening thought that my dad was on the brink of leaving this world. He replied, "Well, I guess I'll have the surgery."

I felt so sad and helpless when he was in recovery, with all those tubes, wires, and machines connected to his body. Uncle Vince consoled me that day. He put his arm around me and told me it would be okay. Boy, he was right, and I'll never forget him for being so loving. The good Lord gave Dad 88 years on this earth.

Dad had a second chance at family after meeting my stepmom, Pat. They visited me at college, and she brought homemade cookies. Together, they built a life and welcomed my brother, Brian, into the world.

Brian was a cheerful baby, and I loved babysitting him. I once gave him a bath after mistakenly allowing him to have a cookie beforehand. He choked, which scared me to death. What did he do? He swallowed the cookie and laughed.

Over the years, they had many good times with stepmother’s, Sorority Sisters, and friends. They spent many years in their camper "down the shore," enjoying the summers with Brian. I remember those times when Michael and I visited. It was peaceful and relaxing.

A Tribute - Part 1

The man I knew, whom I called Dad for all my life, left us on April 24, 2025, to be with the Heavenly Father. Everyone who loves someone knows this day is coming, but no one wants it to arrive. To think that I will never hear my dad's voice or see him again in this life is surreal and strange. I want to honor his memory, so I thought it fitting to write this memorial—this tribute—for my Dad, Pasquale Morelli.

Dad was a simple, decent guy. He believed in an honest day's work for an honest day's wage. He never wanted to cause trouble or hurt anyone. Dad was self-effacing, a humble and sensitive man, probably to a fault. It was just like him to say he wanted no fuss or fanfare when it was time for him to leave the earth. In remembering him, he wished for his family and friends to enjoy a nice meal at an Italian restaurant.

Dad enjoyed the Eagles and Phillies, instilling in me a love for sports. I remember my first game at Connie Mack Stadium with Dad when I was about four years old. I recall this day because Richie (Dick) Allen struck out every at-bat, and all the boos rang out around the stadium for the former NL MVP. Those early years of being ardent Phillies and Eagles fans were rough.

Dad loved the outdoors. To this day, I treasure the times my brother Michael and I went camping together or swam in the lake. Dad was relaxed, easygoing, and fun-loving. He taught us how to fish and got excited when we caught something. Dad joined us for our Boy Scout outings and cooked spaghetti and meatballs for the troop. He was always willing to contribute.

Dad taught Michael and me how to ride a bike and catch a baseball. These cherished moments with Dad are creating memories for a lifetime. The small things we take for granted occupy the most significant parts of our hearts. That's the way it is for me, at least.

Sorry for your loss. Pasquale was a good friend who loved his family and enjoyed painting in his later years. John & Marian Fuhrmeister

OBITUARY

Pasquale Morelli

March 13, 1937 – April 24, 2025

Wm. Rowen Grant Funeral Home Inc.

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