06/02/2025
āAn arch consists of two weaknesses, which, leaning on each other becomes a strength.ā
-Leonardo da Vinci
Growing up, many children believe their dad is Superman. From their youthful perspective, thereās simply nothing he canāt do.
As children age, though, the pristine cape Dad once wore begins to tarnish.
Whether itās the occasional disappointments or just advancing through adolescent years, the mask of perfection fades. Dad canāt fix everything, and they donāt agree with all his rules. His hair grays, his waist expands and eventually his cape falls off entirely. Turns out, Dad canāt fly.
While that might be the reality for many kids, it wasnāt for my siblings and me.
Denny OāLearyās health was legendary growing up. While Iād happily miss school for any reason possible, Dad never missed a single day of work. Perhaps more surprising to me as a kid, he never missed a single day of school; not one day missed in grade school, high school, college or law school.
Dad was perpetually in a good mood. As children our days began with him prancing into our rooms to get us up for school, crooning old marching songs he learned in the military. Each day heād wear a suit and tie, drive us to school, work a full day and return home for dinner. He helped with our homework, made learning fun, and asked about our days.
Dad made each of his six kids feel as if we were his favorite and we loved how he adored our mom.
I recognize not everyone enjoyed a father like this, but my siblings and I were incredibly lucky ā and grateful- to be raised by a super hero.
Then a Parkinsonās disease diagnosis three decades ago changed his life.
The man who never missed a day could no longer work. The father who was always moving was unable to move at all. The vocalist who sang military taps each morning to playfully coax his kids out of bed lost the ability to even speak. The man who was always serving others required full time care and constant attention. His life became incredibly difficult.
And yet the joy he radiated for life when we were kids continued to twinkle from Dad.
A few summers ago, we took a family vacation. Our Mom and Dad, their six kids and spouses, and all 21 grandbabies (at that time) stayed together in Florida. Dad spent a week enveloped with kids, swarmed with grandchildren and loved every moment.
One evening we celebrated with a bonfire on the beach. The sand was too soft and deep to roll my dad on the beach in his wheelchair. We resigned there was no way to get him down there to join us.
Until.
Until two stout sons-in-law and three strong grandchildren picked up his wheelchair and began the long journey out to the bonfire.
As the sun set on the horizon, the smaller grandchildren cheered as their grandpa- buoyed by faith and carried by love- did what seemed impossible: Dad flew above the sand.
During a situation most would be too scared to attempt or bitter to accept, Dad wore his trademark smile. In other words, his cape still fit. Our Superman could still fly.
My friends, while Dad spent the majority of his life working hard, being kind and making a profound difference in the lives of others, he spent the last several decades accepting help from others, embracing the life that was his and continuing to make a profound difference in the lives of others.
And he did so until he took his last breath, surrounded by loved ones at his home, just a few short days ago.
My friends, my family and I continue to grieve the loss of this great man here on earth, but we take solace in the knowledge that in the end, Dad didnāt need to fly to be a hero.
He simply needed to love, to serve, to smile through pain, and to let others lift him when he could no longer lift himself.
May all of us continue to live by this worthy example of a superhero.
Today is your day. Live Inspired.
