About a year ago I was in Ontario as my own father was in failing health. I discovered a letter from Fr. Hugh Foley in my father's house and made an effort to inform him of my father's demise.
The picture is that of my father, William C. McTague.
It was during that first conversation with Fr. Foley that I learned that he and my father had been best friends at St. Mikes and that they had won the handball championship together in 1942. They had vacationed together as children and my father had given Fr. Foley his navy ring when he went off to war in the RCNVR.
Father Foley even told me that his family had lived, very briefly, in the house next door to the one I grew up in.
Father Foley became part of the family as we proceeded onward toward my father's memorial service. He said we were being kind to him but I told him we were just doing the right thing.
At one point in my father's memorial service, I called Father Foley and I held the phone up and had everyone gathered there say, "HI, FATHER FOLEY!!"
At the end of my summer last year I was lucky enough to have lunch with Father Foley in his room at Anglin House. He was not robust and remained in bed throughout my visit but his kindness and gentle nature were all about him.
I left feeling so good about the care Father Foley was getting. He was surrounded by true friends and kindred spirits.
I have to admit that I wasn't overly saddened by the news of his passing as, sometimes, it is time to go and I understand from one of his confreres that his passing was a good one.
I can go on thinking of Hugh Foley and his friend, "Beau" McTague, going for fish and chips, playing the many sports they enjoyed and being best friends on the streets of Toronto a lifetime ago.
If his soul is like his personality he should be resting easy.
So long, Hugh, Tim