» Andy Sudduth's Faith Journey
(told by himself on June, 27, 2006)
» Sudduth Family Eulogy
(read by Rob Sudduth)
» "Bone" - A Poem by Mary Oliver
(read by Ruth Sudduth)
As kids we got used to having Sunday mornings free. Once in a while we were forced to go to church. We hated going to church. We had some amazing ways of hiding. So that sort of contributed to my early aversion to organized religion. I saw religion as something man invented to explain his existence.
The meat of my faith story is the way I learned that it wasn’t really all about me.
I think the most significant part of my life was getting separated from my wife, Saiya. At that point, I didn’t have a lot of friends. Most of the people I knew were people who knew Saiya. At that point, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my life.
I have friends Belle & David Ting. They were Saiya’s friends but we did things together. I knew they went to Grace Chapel which was just down from our house in Lexington. I had seen all of the cars . . . Grace Chapel seemed to be such a big, strange church. My kids were taking music classes during the week, so I sort of knew what the building was like. I wasn’t sure how it worked, though. Wasn’t sure what happened on Sundays. So, I called David and told him that I was interested in attending Grace Chapel.
We met outside in the parking lot and went to the 9:30 service which was the one that worked best for the kids – the more traditional service with the choir and it was beautiful. I was really struck by how nice the singing was, how even the simple stuff like being able to read the lyrics while looking up on the big screen and not always looking down and the hymnal.
It was quite different . . . and I was swept up in it . . . I remember we sang some specific hymns like one entitled, “Walk with Me.” It struck me that there was Someone out there who was going to take care of me. I was struck by how the sermons were so relevant to my life. I also began to see God working in my life through some funny sequences of “coincidences,” things that seemed only God could have known about like what was happening in my heart.
One Sunday there was a very moving sermon about Fear. It was about the apostle Peter talking with Jesus on the beach after the resurrection and receiving Jesus’ forgiveness for denying Him. It had a lasting effect on me. It was at this point that everything crystallized for me. Christianity is a two-way street . . . it’s not a one-way, just accepting the blessing of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross for my sins. So I gave Jesus all that I knew of myself to all that I knew of Him. I embraced His forgiveness and leadership in my life . . . and this relationship with Jesus has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Good Morning:
On behalf of our family, thank YOU for being with us here today. Thanks to those who traveled and those who couldn’t whose thoughts and prayers are with us. Thanks to the folks at Cisco Systems for being supportive during his illness. Thanks for sharing your love over the last nine months and thank you Andrew for living a rich, full life doing everything well with remarkable intensity. We are gathered to celebrate your life and mourn your death, two opposing forces, Celebration and Mourning, Life and Death. Life was amazing which is cause to celebrate; you were taken at age 44 with years of potential left which stinks and is cause to mourn.
Andrew started out strong and smooth – sailing in Marion, growing up in Brookline and Exeter an avid reader, model builder, rocket launcher and brilliant student. Once I asked him for Sci-Fi book suggestions for Christmas. He thought about it and replied ‘There isn’t any science fiction I haven’t read’ … literally. He was serious.
There was almost nothing Andrew enjoyed more than a good practical joke. And being younger, Jennifer and I were often the target. His favorite holiday was April Fools Day. We always suspected something; salt in the sugar container, rubber bands on the kitchen sprayer, short sheeted beds, he thought of everything in detail. When he was a freshman at Phillips Exeter Academy I took over his paper route. I started at 5:00 am with a bowl of Raisin Bran. On April fools day, I wandered into the kitchen, turned on the lights to find the table upside down, placemats perfectly set while precariously balancing on the legs of the table – n-i-c-e, I thought… little did I know, THAT was the diversion. I opened the cereal drawer, bent down to pick up the RB. There were wires leading out of the Rice Crispies box and a battery, a buzzing, a thought- something’s wrong, but no time to react; Two Black Dragon Fire Crackers with cut down fuses simultaneously BOOM, Rice Crispies in my face, in my hair on the counter, everywhere. Ears ringing, I shake my head, pick out the Rice Crispies and reach for the box of Raisin Bran – the bottom falls out, cereal everywhere, scoop it into a bowl, test the sugar – yup its sugar. I turn over the chair balance my bowl on the leg of the table, pour the milk, and take my first bite… SALT!!! He sugar coated the salt. Unbelievable!!
When he left for Harvard, his life was rowing and computers and rowing and falling in love and the crash B Springs and school and family and rowing and entertainment and falling out of love. Andrew realized when he devoted himself to become the best oarsman he could, that human beings have an absolute capacity of 2 1/2, which means he could be an Olympic rower, an A student and the rest of the us here today were vying for the remaining ½. When you were not part of his hyper focus, you were sometimes on the back burner, but never forgotten.
Anyone who spent time with Andrew over the last few years knows that he was a changed man: fully himself. He was a fully realized person. It began with having children. He often said that Zoë (and later, Sophie) were the best things that ever happened to him. They made him feel loved. But with many good things in life, it was a struggle. The difficulty of balancing his children, his marriage and his profession, forced him to confront himself. Typical of Andy, he threw himself into that work with intensity and honesty. Fortunately, there was plenty of good in what he found in himself. It all fell into place when at the suggestion of friends he found his way to Grace Chapel – and was overwhelmed by the sense of love and acceptance he felt there. He realized that he was loved by God and that opened him to the possibility that he was loved by all of us gathered here today. He later said that he “felt prepared for death, in a surprising way. Just by being,” he said, “by being nice, and having people like me for the way I am. You need to love yourself. When you do that, there’s a peace, and you show other people how to love you. If you’re fighting yourself, people will pretty much believe you. If you aren’t loving yourself, and someone else says ‘I love you’, you are already at a disagreement.” Andy celebrated the people he loved and the people who loved him.
Andrew savored his role as a father. He was keenly focused on influencing the
people Zoë and Sophie would become. He taught them lessons that reflected
the way that he lived his life:
• Keep thinking, ask questions
• Tell the truth
• Speak for yourself
• Do the right thing, NOT the popular thing
Andrew often challenged himself under his breath with “WWJD” or “what would Jesus do?” and pushed the kids to the same standard. Conversations in the car on the way to school were convention-challenging discussions of global warming, statistics or sociology. He knew how to just be with the kids, too, rolling Sophie around in his arms or holding her, tight, when she’d cry.
Zoë and Sophie, we will help keep the spirit of your Daddy alive for you and help you with his life lessons. We will remember him and love you. We will also laugh with you at tall tales of his adventures, dangerous or just plain silly. Challenge yourself with “WWDD – What would Daddy do?” We will do the same.
Andrew lived a full life, did things well and with intensity which is how he died; totally his own man, with grace and style. He waited until we were all gathered around him two Saturdays ago. When we could all say that it was ok for him to leave the body that had served him so nobly for 44 years. When we could all speak with one voice, a voice filled with love, love that he reciprocated a thousand fold in our lives with him. Then, at exactly that moment, he left. All we could do was say “Way to go Andrew!” and give him one final round of applause. A race well rowed, a life well lived.
THANK YOU ANDREW
YOU WERE A GREAT BROTHER
WE LOVE YOU
"Bone" - A Poem by Mary Oliver
1.
Understand, I am always trying to figure out
what the soul is,
and where hidden,
and what shape
and so, last week,
when I found on the beach
the ear bone
of a pilot whale that may have died
hundreds of years ago, I thought
maybe I was close
to discovering something
for the ear bone
2.
is the portion that lasts longest
in any of us, man or whale; shaped
like a squat spoon
with a pink scoop where
once, in the lively swimmer's head,
it joined its two sisters
in the house of hearing,
it was only
two inches long
and thought: the soul
might be like this
so hard, so necessary
3.
yet almost nothing.
Beside me
the gray sea
was opening and shutting its wave-doors,
unfolding over and over
its time-ridiculing roar;
I looked but I couldn't see anything
through its dark-knit glare;
yet don't we all know, the golden sand
is there at the bottom,
though our eyes have never seen it,
nor can our hands ever catch it
4.
lest we would sift it down
into fractions, and facts
certainties
and what the soul is, also
I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
truly I know
our part is not knowing,
but looking, and touching, and loving,
which is the way I walked on,
softly,
through the pale-pink morning light.
from Why I Wake Early (2004)
A Memorial Service was held at the Wickenden Chapel at Tabor Academy in Marion, MA at 11:00am on July 28, 2006, with a reception that followed at 522 Point Road, Marion, MA. Donations in lieu of flowers may be made to the Pan Mass Challenge benefiting the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute where Andy received his treatment. Andy had hoped to ride this year, and his brother Matthew will be riding in Andrew’s place. The website is www.pmc.org, to make a donation for Andy, enter Matthew Sudduth’s name or his number, MS0301.