I can think of younger days when living for my life
Was everything a man could want to do
I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow
And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again
I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees
And misty memories of days gone by
We could never see tomorrow, no one said a word about the sorrow
And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again
We stood around Charlie’s bed in the Surgical ICU looking down at the face of this man we knew and loved so well for so many years. We held onto his arms and legs, his face and shoulders, even his knees and toes. It was as if we were desperately trying to hold him to this earth. Somewhere deep inside me I
thought if we held on tight enough he wouldn’t leave us. One thing I knew for sure was that not one of us was ready to lose this guy. This certainly was no ordinary man. The earth would not be the same without him.
Charles A. Fries, Jr. was the first born of his generation. He was the first grandchild born to Joseph & Elizabeth Fries on the Fries side of the family as well as the first grandchild born to TJ & Margaret O’Donnell on the O’Donnell side. As such he was greeted with much jubilation. My father, Charles A.
Fries, Sr. jumped for joy and almost hit the ceiling, when he first laid eyes on his beautiful newborn son.
Prophetically, he was an easy, calm and peaceful baby and he was lovingly oiled each and every day during his infancy.
Charlie was ever the obedient son. When I was a teenager myself, two years his junior, I watched him in amazement as he did what he was told and even more than what he was told without ever complaining. He accidently dropped a glass jar of instant coffee and it smashed into a thousand pieces. He was reprimanded but rather than yell back or defend himself, he went into the house and got the broom, cleaned up the mess, quietly continued to carry the groceries up the steep stairway into our house. When he was done, without any explanation he walked a great distance to the grocery store and using his own money replaced the jar of Instant coffee.
My entire life was graced by Charlie’s presence; I am lucky enough to have known Charlie for over 66 years. I could share hours and volumes of stories from all these years together as siblings, but today I will simply touch on a few.
In an effort to be concise, I looked for some words to help me to describe my brother.
The first word to come to mind is generous. Charlie was generous to a fault; he tried to give everyone exactly what they wanted. He would search high and low for that hard to find item, he would research and investigate from every single angle and when he presented you with the one thing your heart most desired, he would smile sheepishly as you opened your gift and reacted with utter surprise and pure joy.
Charlie was creative and playful. As a child, Charlie imagined and created ingenious playlands in our backyard in the East New York section of Brooklyn. One time I attempted to compete with a playland of my own, but all the kids in the neighborhood flocked to Charlie’s wonderland instead of mine. I finally
conceded, and Charlie smiled gently when I gave in and become his assistant. I couldn’t top the master. Then there were those times that Charlie and another kid in our neighborhood named Kurt, produced and directed elaborate shows in the backyard garage.
Charlie also organized the rest of us kids in our endeavors to build an in-ground pool in the dirt behind our house. It seemed we dug halfway to China but the massive muddy puddle just wouldn’t hold water.
We built boats and houses and even our own backyard toilet. Charlie was the architect and the quiet, unassuming chief engineer. And in spite of his mild-mannered ways, we all responded promptly and with precision when the alarm was sounded by Charlie, the Fire Chief of 10 Engine 10.
As he got older on several occasions Charlie spoke to me about his dream of one day creating an amusement park when he reached retirement age. He never lost his creative, playful ways. If it wasn’t for all the pain- in- the- neck logistics, I’m sure he could have created the best Amusement Park in all of NY State.
In a way he was always creating amusement parks, always wanting to share fun and games with children. Christmas lights transformed his Gun Lane Home into a magical cottage at the North Pole where even Santa came to visit personally on Christmas Eve. He loved sharing the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, the trains and quaint little village and gifts that crowded around the bottom of the tree. No matter how chaotic it got, Charlie truly seemed to enjoy the pandemonium of all the Santa festivities with his children, grandkids and grand nieces and nephews. Christmas in heaven should be very special this year.
Another word that comes to mind when I think of my brother is “humor”. Charlie had his own unique, intelligent brand of humor. He could be really hysterical without being the least bit raunchy or boisterous. And, he never, ever put anyone down. He was way too kind for that and people were always more important to him than a laugh or two. At our mother’s 80th birthday celebration, Charlie
stood up to say a few words in her honor and he began by saying, “I met my mother at an early age”.
Charlie was recently made the Chaplain at his local American Legion. He was truly honored by this appointment but shared with me -with a bit of humor- that he was wondering when exactly he had gotten ordained. He expressed some concerns about his ability to meet the requirements, but knowing Charlie
as I do, I was certain they couldn’t have picked a better guy. Still his humor shone through when got up to offer an opening prayer and started off by asking if the parking spot marked with the C meant it was reserved for the Chaplain. I’m sorry I never got to see him perform his duties at the Legion.
When Charlie met Ellen he transformed into a guy named Chuck. I find it difficult to call Charlie, Chuck because he has always been Charlie to me but sometimes I would get caught up in the moment and call him Chuck. It was obvious he liked being Chuck.
Charlie was a happy guy.
He was filled with love.
His love overflowed onto everyone.
He loved unconditionally and without reservation.
He was not pompous or showy.
He never said a bad word about anyone.
He was a relatively quiet man. He was a gentle man. He wasn’t boastful or conceited or unkind.
He was a wise man, a rational man, a thoughtful man.
He was very much in control of his emotions, except possibly when someone cut him off.
And even then, he didn’t act foolish or stupid. Can you imagine, he simply pulled the driver over, wagged his finger at her as
he reprimanded her sternly for cutting him off.
Some might say that in spite of his laid back nature, but I say precisely because of his laid back nature he
was a marvelous police officer reaching the rank of Police Captain on the NYPD.
He was never trigger happy, his gun remained in the holster as he used his peaceful, calm nature to
diffuse anger, comfort the distraught and calm the aggressor.
He forgave instantaneously and never held a grudge.
He loved people and they loved him back.
If there is a heaven and I hope there is I can assure you without doubt or hesitation that as I speak this good man is there already
I would like to conclude with the words that Chuck shared with his wife Ellen on July 16, 2011 less than 2 weeks before his death.
Dear Ellen, Know that I’ll love you forever….
Even though it is hard for me to describe how much you mean to me,
Know that I love you more than any man has loved a woman before
Know that I love you with all my heart….
Your smile, your touch, your caring nature…
Everything that combine to make you a one- of- a- kind person,
A once-in-a-lifetime love,
Know that I’ll love you forever…
Because the best part of my life began the moment I fell in love with you.
Always remember that the words you speak to someone may be the last words that they ever hear from you.
On Thursday evening, July 21st, at my brother-in-law's wake in New Jersey, I sat down on a chair next to my brother, Charlie, just before he and Marty and their wives left to go home.
I kissed Charlie on his cheek and told him I would call him next Thursday. We had been speaking quite a bit on the phone lately about medical issues and also about our upcoming trip to Italy, planned for this Fall.
Two days later, Charlie went to sit down in a plastic molded chair in his neighbor's backyard. The chair fell backwards and Charlie hit the back of his head on some concrete. He was able to walk into the house, but had a headache and some nausea and an ambulance was called. He was brought to the closest hospital and a CAT scan was taken which showed a subdural bleed. The Neuro Surgeon looked at the scan and prepared the OR. But, after speaking to Charlie and observing how alert and oriented he was, the Surgeon canceled the surgery. He understood that there were tremendous risks to a surgical procedure since Charlie was on Plavix and aspirin (for previously placed coronary artery stints).
The plan was that Charlie was going to stay in the hospital in order to be closely observed. He told his wife and my brother and sister-in-law that there was no need for them to stand around the hospital all night, they should go home and get some sleep. In his usual, laid-back manner he said, "we'll see what happens". A couple of hours later, Charlie became non-responsive due to the increased intracranial pressure that was building up inside his skull. His wife, Ellen, was called back to the hospital to sign a consent for emergency surgery. The first surgical procedure was deemed a success. It would just be a day or two before Charlie regained consciousness. Then he began to bleed and the intracranial pressure sky-rocketed. Another surgery was performed. After-wards, we sat around a "crying room" as the Neuro Surgeon told us that he "used every hemostatic agent in the hospital" in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Sadly nothing worked.
Charlie's heart stopped beating at 8:35AM on Saturday morning, July 30, 2011 as we (Marty, my Dad & I) ended the rosary with this petition, " Dear Lord, if he is not going to recover, then please take Charlie swiftly to Your Bosom."
This is a quote that my son recently shared with me to help me get through my horrendous grief and sorrow. I came across it again tonight while going through my e-mails and decided I needed to remind myself and share it with others.
On Happiness
"The way to experience ultimate happiness is to let go of all worries and regrets, and to know that being happy is the most satisfying of life's feelings. Reflect back on all the progress in your life and allow the positive, creative and joyous thoughts to outshine and overwhelm any sorrow or grief that may linger in the recesses of your mind. Knowing that disease and disaster are natural parts of life is the key to overcoming adversity with a calm and happy spirit. Happiness is waiting there in front of you. Only you can decide whether or not you choose to experience it. Take this to heart.
Toshitsugu Takamatsu"
I can't believe how broken I feel. What is wrong with me? All I do is cry and when I am not crying I push myself to move as if I were a robot. The world does not seem real or kind. I do not remember ever feeling this sad. Why am I such a baby? Other people have lost loved ones and they survive, so what in God's name is wrong with me? I feel alone and separated from my family. I am hurting so much, the pain is visceral. My whole family is hurting and each person is reacting in different ways and I am useless to reach out or comfort anyone else. I'm acting weird; I'm even sleeping with "Honey", my little stuffed, worn-out puppy from my childhood. Maybe they should take me away. In fact being taken away sounds OK about now.
How will I get through the weekend? I will have to pretend that I am an actor in a play. I will have to plaster a smile on my face and put one foot in front of the other and beg God for help. Life is not the same and it will never be the same again. This earth is barren and vacant without Charlie.
Mary Beth
