My brother’s funeral service was last week, and a couple of people asked that I send the eulogy I wrote. I didn’t have a close relationship with my brother because of our age gap, and our lives were very different. I hope I did justice to the man he was and the simple life he led.
“The man who was my brother had a difficult start to life. He was one of twins born at 7 months, his brother stillborn. Our mother had blood poisoning and all of them almost died. I believe Frederick Norman Pepin was less than 3 pounds at birth. Seventy-one years ago doctors didn’t follow their patient’s pregnancies. There were no pre-natal vitamins, or regular office visits. My mother drank coffee and smoked cigarettes the whole time. She was told she was pregnant and to come back when she was in labor. She didn’t even know she was having twins.
Pep was in an incubator for the first few months of his life. Our grandmother was the hospital cook and my folks lived across the street from the hospital, so he was never alone. He fought hard to be here, and was spritely enough that my grandmother named him Peppy. And Peppy, or as we all called him, Pep, he stayed for 71 years.
He terrorized my sister as a child; cutting her hair after his first haircut, making her the brakeman as he stood on the seat and steered my father’s idling van out of the driveway and onto Main Street. I’m sure he was 90% of the reason my mother was on tranquilizers her entire life. And certainly back then children were not assessed for ADHD, Asperger’s, or Frontal Lobe Syndrome, which was his eventual diagnosis. He learned to ride a bike backwards before he could ride it forward. Given a list to remember he would reverse it. He had issues with cognitive function and frustration that led to anger. But as a kid he was just deemed different. He didn’t do well in school, had issues learning, and finally just quit.
My mother protected him but Pep always managed, and he moved out when I was still young. He’d show up often enough to placate my mother, visit my grandparents, and let us know he was OK.
He was a bit of a ladies man, with his Elvis hair and sideburns, nice clothes (I’m sure my grandmother was slipping him cash – he was her favorite), and big smile. He could be funny and kind, he was a hard worker, and he’d help anyone who needed it. He eventually married and had children. And moved closer which meant we could enjoy his kids. I remember the excitement when his daughter Sherry was born. Never one to censor himself he told my mother and I she was going to be tall and fat, just like me. Thanks, bro. And then he had Fred. A son! He was so excited. Later he found great happiness in his grandchildren.
Pep enjoyed simple things and I think he was mostly happy in his heart. He loved going out for coffee, and I think he knew everyplace in the greater New Bedford area where a good cup was cheap. He loved electronics, mechanics, and anything he could take apart. He loved Elvis, country music, action movies, learning the guitar, playing roadie for his friend Dick, and hanging out with his friend Dave.
I don’t have a lot of memories of my brother from my childhood; he was 15 years old when I was born and mostly gone by the time I was five. But I do remember he used to protect me from my sister Lilly when she was being mean to me. And the night before he died he was coherent enough to understand me when I thanked him for it. He laughed.
I know he’s with the rest of my family now, in peace and without pain. And probably helping St. Peter set up his home entertainment system. There is now surround sound in heaven.
I ask that you keep Sherry, Fred and their families in your prayers. God Bless my brother, and God Bless us all.”
