Mathew J. Raineri

Mathew Raineri Obituary

RAINERI--Mathew J., on November 20, 2007. Beloved husband of 50 years of Florence M. (nee Cuomo). Devoted father of Margaret M. Mattes (Michael) and Joseph R. (Diane). Cherished grandfather of Michael, Christian, Marie, Tyler and Matthew. Funeral Saturday, 8:45am, from the Marine Park Funeral Home, 3024 Quentin Rd., Brooklyn. Funeral mass 9:45am at St. Bernard R.C. Church. Interment Mount St. Mary Cemetery. Visiting Friday, 2 to 5 and 7 to 9pm. He was truly a renaissance man.

To plant trees in memory, please visit the Sympathy Store.

Published by New York Times on Nov. 21, 2007.

Memories and Condolences
for Mathew Raineri

1 Entry

Joseph Raineri

December 4, 2007

I've often thought, "How can you emotionally prepare yourself for the loss of your parent?" The answer is you can't. However difficult this process of grieving, we shouldn't cloud our memories of those we lost.

The Ancient Egyptians believed that upon death they would be asked two questions and their answers would determine whether they could continue their journey, The first question was "Did you bring joy?" The second, "Did you find joy?"

My father often used the Latin phrase "Tempest Fugit" which means "Time Flies." He said this upon hearing of others stories of their children leaving the nest, changes in government or other milestones in ones life. I never fully grasped its significance until now.

My father was the youngest child born to Italian American Parents. As most who knew him would agree they haven't met a more proud individual with regard to his ethnicity. Growing up in Bensonhurst he was unlike those who fit stereotypical labels. Just his physical composition forced him on more than one occasion to defend other religious groups from descrimination. I remember listening to stories where my father had to defend his beliefs in Judaism due to mistaken profiling.

He was the first in his family to attend and graduate college. He was to attend mdical school if it wasn't for his induction into military service. Many of us can recall even envision his experiences in the service as it was the first time in his life that he left the State of New York. He painted a picture so vivid that I can feel my anxiety increase by the rush of the tornado he escaped. The fright of finding a scorpion in his boot or the tiring marathon of an all day all night 4th of July romp that brought him and his buddies to virtualy every bar in South Texas. And of course who could forget those army-influenced rythms he sang to our childeren just to give us a breather from parenting. However profound this experience, one story was always told this time of year. How he travelled home for Christmas on a five-day furlough while standing all the way from Chicago to New York during a blinding snowstorm.

He found his professional niche because of his ntural ability and desire to teach others. This spanned over 40 years during his tenure in the New York City school system. My father's passion for teaching and influence guided others to pursue a career in the same vocation. What he accomplished was memorialized in honors an proclamtions from City, State and school officials.

My father was by all sense of the phrase a "Family Man." His home was his sanctuary from the harsh realities. No matter how chaotic his day or how miserable he was feeling, he greeted me with a smile and an unselfing inquiry of my day. He listened, accepted and remedied my problems whether or not he had a remedy for his own. His zest to explore and share made many family vacations unforgettable. In the days when vacationing by car was economical, he would drive all day sometimes 8 to 10 hours and then stay up late while we slept and plan an itinerary of interesting destinations we would experience the next day. But what made this home experience meaningful was his love for my sister and me and of course his profound love for his wife of 50 years. It is from his example that I too will experience a long and gratifying life with my wife and children.

My father often talked about his "Extended Family." He never fit that classification of the typical "In-Law." Quite to the contrary, he adopted in his heart his daughter and son-in-law as well as their families as his own. When he greeted anyone in his extended family it was with the same intensity as if he were greeting his own children.

To be in my fathers presence was never adull expereince. He would easily command conversations with his knowledge of countless subjects, his expressive stories or experiences. And when he didn't, a smile from him would speak louder than words could express. My mother told me of a time when he could not attend a family gathering at her parent's house due to an illness where my grandmother commented that his absence could only be described as a day that the sun did not shine.

So Pop, I'll answer the first question on your journey. Thank you for the joy you have brought us.
Thank you for a secure family life.
Thank you for teaching me how to "play well and get along with others."
Thank you for my sense of humor even during tough times.
Thank you for being interested in my otherwise occasional uninteresting stories.
Thank you for teaching me archery even when that arrow overshot the target and hit a neighbor's house.
Thank you for singing sea chanteys, folk songs and spirituals.
Thank you for celebrating the culture of every ethnic holiday although I must say I still get confused at Ramadan.
Above all...Thank you for being you!