It has been a long time since our last blog post. Mom continues to receive chemotherapy each month and requires transfusions of platelet twice a week and blood biweekly. I have some tragic news that is awful to share through a blog but it is impossible to reach all of you on the phone.

We are devastated to share that we unexpectedly lost my brother Joey at home on November 19th. You have surrounded us with your love and support these last four years. We are asking again that you keep our family in your prayers.

Below are the words of remembrance read during the private service yesterday:

I wanted to try and open with a joke today but then I remembered that Joey was the funny one in our family. Mike and I are still working on our delivery. So instead I’m going to read a verse from Joey’s favorite song:

I can only imagine -What my eyes will see - When your face -Is before me -I can only imagine

Will I stand in your presence - or to my knees will I fall - Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all - I can only imagine

Ironically, this song was written by a young man who had lost his father. He knew that his father had moved on to a better place but he wanted to envision what his dad was seeing. We can only imagine and remember. It’s hard for me to think of Joey and not smile.

Joey and I were partners in crime during the first half of our lives. My earliest memories of childhood were running through the neighborhood with him by my side. Some nights I would sneak into his bedroom to play with our toys. Mom and Dad were unaware of our late night play dates until one night I listened to Joey when he told me to stick my bare foot against a lightbulb in his bedroom. I had 3rd degree burns on my foot and you would think I would have learned then, at five years old, not to listen to all of my little brother’s ideas.

There was the time he promised to teach me how to use the brakes of my roller blades. His method of instruction involved leading me to the top of Quarry Road and telling me, ‘Ok, see ya at the bottom!’ I mean, skating up the hill, what did I think was going to happen?

During our family vacation to Lake Placid he told Mike and I to ‘trust him’ while we let him lead us up to the very top of Iceface Mountain. It turned out he had brought us to a double black diamond course that was the 1980 Olympic downhill.

Joey liked a challenge. When someone dared him to perform a BMX stunt using a homemade ramp by the older neighbor kids, he did not disappoint us. But he did break his nose. He could not let the cross country crew down when they bet him he couldn’t fit in a locker. He didn’t think about getting locked in and no one having a key to get him out.

For as long as I could remember he and Mike would test each other in the weight room. The competition between the two brothers never would end. They were constantly flexing and comparing their muscle size and definition. Mom kept them motivated by telling them each separately that they were the one with the bigger biceps.

I don’t want you to think that Joey was just about thrills. He had a heart of gold and would lend his hard working hands to anyone in need. I remember him agreeing to help build a kitchen table for my first apartment. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving in 2000. I believe those were the days of Joey’s Red Chevy pickup truck. No one can count how many trucks Joey had, but that red one was certainly the loudest. Anyway, we learned the hard way that the Saturday after Thanksgiving is a really tough day to be on 95. Our Joey, who used to swear he’d never leave Lansdale, followed me down in his red Chevy and probably called me 15 times on the way down that day. Instead of a three hour ride, it took us six. During the 15th phone call Joey said, “Sis, I’m definitely not leaving Lansdale again!”

Once we got in and unloaded the table, he worked tirelessly to assemble it. He finished at midnight and crashed on my couch and was gone by 9 the next day. That table moved with me to another apartment, a townhome, a house, and is now in another apartment. My niece and nephew sit at that table every day.

Joey did venture out of Lansdale to visit me a few times. I can’t forget when Mike was headed to the Baltimore Aquarium and Joey asked him to drop him off on his way. The train station where Joey told Mike to leave him at had not been operational for some time. He charmed his way across the city making friends along the way and made it to Alexandria five hours later. Then he swore to us that this time he really was never going to Lansdale again.

More recently Joey would spend hours playing with my kids at the Jersey shore. The kids were proud to have their Uncle Joey to hold them tight as the tide came in. He had the patience of Job to wait in line for the bumper cars on the boardwalk and then have Christian chicken out when it was their turn. I remember Joey trying to squeeze himself into the kiddie coaster that Emma insisted she wanted to go on. Emma was terrified once the ride got started, but found comfort in the arms of her Uncle Joey.

Joey loved his little girl, Isabelle Rose. He was so proud of everything little thing she did that he was able to witness. Shortly after she was born he made a video of himself reading Isabelle the story Guess How Much I Love You. He knew he couldn’t always be there.

Isabelle is still talking about her Da Da this week after visiting with him last Sunday. I think it’s all the candy he snuck her.

Joey had a gift that allowed him to bring levity to situations when the rest of us couldn’t bear to. He could make us laugh when we needed to most.

I can still hear him singing Sugarland while riding in my car at the beach this summer. I can remember the Joey we knew in high school playing Take it Easy over and over while grounded in his bedroom. I will never let go of the image of his wide grin or forget his strong hugs. I will always be proud and thankful for the short time I had him as my brother. I know we all have our own memories of Joey Teklits. Hold them close to you.

Thank you all for being here today. We feel your love and support and it is propping us up today so we appear to be standing during this tragic time. If you haven’t yet, please take some time to view the photographic tribute of Joey in the back of the church. We had a lot of fun going through those pictures. I have to tell you we were hard pressed to find that many photos of Joey with his shirt on.
It is impossible for us to understand why but I am filled with hope that Joey’s been given the strength he could not have here. Joey is finally free. Joey has found peace.

The obituary was printed in our local newspaper, The Reporter:

http://www.thereporteronline.com/articles/2009/11/23/obituaries/doc4b0af6bc6a5d8549253970.txt