Welcome to a new week here on the Retirement Quick Tips podcast! I’m your host, Ashley Micciche.
On the podcast this week, I’m going to do something quite different.
My father-in-law, Doug Micciche, passed away on May 22nd, after a very brief battle with cancer. I first met Doug when I was 16 years old, and for the last 24 years that I’ve known him, he’s been a confidant and someone I love and miss deeply.
Doug was also a financial advisor in our advisory practice, and over the years, I learned from him - not just personally, but professionally as well. So I wanted to take this opportunity to share a few things about Doug - the kind of man he was, the way he inspired me, and the things he taught me.
To do that, I think we’ll start at the beginning. I don’t remember the first time I met Doug, but my husband and I started dating in high school, so I’m sure 16 year old me walked into his house acting like I owned the place.
Because my husband and I were high school sweethearts, I spent a lot of time at his parent’s house, countless hours in the family room watching TV and movies with Doug. He and I both shared a mutual love for bad 90s action movies.
By the time my husband moved out of his parent’s home, I had already spent more quality time with Doug than most daughter-in-laws get to spend with their father-in-law in a lifetime, and for that I am grateful.
One of my favorite pastimes was needling Doug, which was a tradition that continued until the end. Back in the early days, I would plop down on their couch so aggressively, I might as well have been working on my high jump, using the couch to break my fall. I would immediately look over at Doug with a sly smile, waiting for the inevitable sigh or eye roll. Eventually, after thousands of forceful couch plops, the spring broke in the exact spot where I would always sit…I still maintain I had nothing to do with that janky couch spring.
Their house had hardwood flooring on the stairs, and like a 7 year old boy, I would fly down the stairs. The pounding reverberation on the stairs irritated him to no end, so whenever I would run down the stairs he would always yell: “stampede!!” I took that as an invitation to pound my heels as loud as possible whenever I came down the stairs, just to see if I could get a stampede yell out of him.
Doug was a great listener, and I often went to him when I had a problem or needed some advice. He was always honest and a no-BS guy. He was great at telling me what I needed to hear, even if it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I could trust his advice, knowing that he always had my best intentions at heart. There was no duplicity in Doug, and I very much appreciated that about him.
Doug was one of the most selfless people I know. Anything you asked him to do, he would do it, and whether he wanted to do it or not, you really had no idea, because he cheerfully devoted himself to other people and their needs. He would give me rides to and from the airport - often picking me up in the pre-dawn hours for the early flights I habitually booked. He always joyfully helped out with school pickups for my kids, and this past year, he picked up my 4 year old, Theodore, from preschool twice a week, always first in line because he was also ridiculously and annoyingly early for EVERYTHING. He and Theoore had their routine - he would bring him some gummi worms that Theodore quickly came to expect.
Doug was so deeply authentic, genuinely interested in other people, and kind down to his core, that he made friends wherever he went. He wasn’t super extraverted, but he could relate to anyone, and making new friends was a superpower he had. He made friends with parents at my kids sports games, with other grandparents at school pickup, and most stunning of all - he made friends and stayed in contact with a guy he sold a car to - a chance encounter that turned into a friendship, and they stayed in touch for many years after.
Doug valued simplicity and he was content to spend his days at home, and as his wife Becky wrote in his obituary - “His pleasures were simple: daily exercise, command of the TV remote and a Friday night pizza, an enjoyable book and a nice slice of pie or cake. He was uncompromising when it came to his faith, to keeping his home and yard well-tended and his cars impeccable.”
What I admire most about Doug was his enduring faith. He was Catholic, and attended Sunday Mass every week. He watched daily Mass on the TV livestream nearly every day. He prayed and read the bible often, and like most men, was quite private about his spiritual life. But I caught glimpses of it often - a spiritual book he was reading, a text from him before a doctor’s appointment or during a hardship to let me know he was praying for me. He did this often with me, but I found out after he passed that he did this with many other people too. After my dad had a health issue earlier this year, Doug texted to tell me that he dedicated his rosary that day to my father and his healing.
Doug was diagnosed with cancer on April 17th, and passed away barely a month later on May 22nd. His decline was so rapid and unexpected. We were all stunned by his initial prognosis of 1-2 years, even with chemo treatment. At that time, the doctors didn’t know how advanced his cancer was, but the oncologist commented on his cheerfulness and energy, despite being so sick. He accepted his fate with grace and even humor on occasion.
At the end, I took great comfort and hope in the fact that Doug received all the sacraments - he went to confession and received last rites, which is very important in the Catholic faith.
In his last days of hospice care at home, they moved his hospital bed next to their queen bed in the bedroom, so Becky could lay comfortably with him, always at his side. I spent a few hours laying there with him too, praying for him and occasionally talking to him to let him know that I was there and that I loved him.
Our pastor visited him twice in the last days of his life, and I was there for the last time he visited, a little over a day before he passed. As part of the blessing and prayers for the dying, the priest read the text from Revelation, chapter 21: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, [for] the old order has passed away.
The one who sat on the throne* said, “Behold, I make all things new.”
Looking at Doug lying there, so weakened and close to death, yet so peaceful, those words captivated me…Behold, I make all things new.
He is at peace now, and I have great hope that he is looking down on us from heaven. No more death. No more pain. No more mourning. Only everlasting happiness and joy with God in heaven, because He makes all things new.
I know I can still count on Doug as a confidant, and ask him to continue to pray for me… I just need to look for more subtle signs of his advice and guidance, not the straightforward, blunt, telling-it-like-it-is advice that I’m used to from him.
Doug’s funeral will be on Wednesday, June 25th, and if you’re so inclined, I ask for your prayers for Doug, our family, and all those who love and miss him. His wife, Becky, needs your prayers the most. She was married to Doug for over 40 years, and this is a great loss and a great burden for her to carry right now.
I want to close with an excerpt from a letter from my husband to his dad. My husband, Troy, wrote this letter and shared it with Doug the day his diagnosis changed from 1-2 years to 1-2 months. It turned out that Doug only had about a week left with us, and he heard this letter from his son only a couple days before the cancer took away his ability to comprehend what Troy said in his letter. Timing is a funny thing. If my husband had put off writing this letter and sharing it with his dad by just a day or two, it would have been too late. But he said all the things he wanted to say to his father just in time.
Troy wrote: “Fatherhood, faith, and my marital life. These are the priorities, and you helped instill them in me…You more than did the job that the Lord asked you to do, and you did it well. I am forever grateful.”
We are all grateful to have known and loved you, Doug.
I hope you have a blessed week. My name is Ashley Micciche...and this is the Retirement Quick Tips podcast.
