Bruno N. Sonego

Beloved husband of the late Marthe. Loving father of Christine Sonego, Betty Sonego and Dan Sonego. Loving husband and dedicated father. He instilled the confidence to his children that they could do whatever and wherever their dreams took them. He was a man of very few words - but when he did say something, you listened as his words were ones you remembered for life. And when he was done - you knew it because he would said -- "And I have spoken". Nicknamed Dr. Bruno - because anything could be fixed with a piece of string and white tape. Fevers were cooled by the touch of his rough hands - and steely eyes that said -- "you'll be ok - it's not that bad". He taught us that to do a job was to do it well -- or not do it all. He gave us the drive to be the best - no matter what we did. He was handy around the house -- never needing to read the directions because the directions were always wrong. And when there were parts left over - well, they made a mistake and sent too many. He saved everything -- just in case you needed it later. Too many times I had to admit to him that he was right - I needed something that I had just thrown away. And he just smiled a smile that said "I told you so". In the mid-1960s Dad had an accident with a lawn mower that cut his middle finger short - everyone always thought it was because of his occupation. He and I finally had one more thing in common when in 1995 I called him to let him know that the nut doesn't fall far from the tree and told him that I cut short my thumb with a mulcher. All he could say was "And why did you do that?!?!? How many times have I told you 'Don't do as I do, do as I say!!'". And then he became Dr. Bruno again telling me how to take care of it. The first time he saw it - he said "It's not that bad, you'll be ok" He was loved by all that met him - and he left a life lasting impression. The only man that knew how to wear a beret the proper way -- and a handshake that you never forgot. I will miss you, Dad. But I know that you will be up in heaven with Mom looking over me -- and making certain that I do things the Dad way and Mom reminding you that I know what I am doing. And if I don't, I am certain you will help me. It is time for you to rest -- and slow down. The music is now playing for you and it's time to dance again. And, Dad, this time - I have spoken. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Eulogy written and presented by Dan Sonego, son of Bruno: My dad lived a very long and healthy life and saw many changes in this world you and I can't even imagine. He was an only child raised by his parents to have the morals, ethics and pride to live his life and passed his knowledge on to everyone he came in contact with. He was a true patriot and served in World War II. He joined the French Navy to prevent from getting drafted into the German Army and served on a submarine during that time. As I'm sure most of you know from seeing documentaries this wasn't a cake walk. Some of the stories he told of his tour of duty were amazing. I took him on a tour of an American World War II submarine in Cleveland and he told me this was a Cadillac compared to what he was on. He couldn't believe how much room everyone had. I on the other hand thought we had entered a sardine can. Fifty one years ago, my dad and mom, in their 40's, wanted a better life for my sisters and me and made the move to come to America. They basically had to start from scratch and did it with enthusiasm. Here they forged a life for us and taught us the same principles that had brought them through the war and depression. There were many challenges they faced in the basic way of life between the two countries. My dad being the great provider worked two jobs for as long as I can remember and knew how to rub two pennies together and make it come out as a dollar. Thirty-nine years ago he took on the challenge of teaching me how to drive. I remember going to work early one morning and it was snowing like crazy. We approached the West Road viaduct going over the railroad tracks. All of you had to go over it to come here this morning. I'm sure most of you probably don't remember coming across it because it really is not that significant of an incline. But being in my youth and seeing the challenge of crossing the Rockies I just knew we needed more power to forge through the thick fresh virgin snow piles that had accumulated over night. There we were, in a 1968 Chevy Biscayne with manual steering, rear wheel drive, me behind the rather large steering wheel which was the norm back in those days and my dad sitting shot gun. I accelerated to scale this great "mountain" ahead when all of a sudden this tank of a car was everywhere but where I wanted it to be and we were going curb to curb non-stop and traffic coming head on. Now most people would be doing everything but remaining calm. Not my dad. He grabbed onto the dash board and said "Oh boy, are you happy now?" He was always a man of few words but when he said them you better pay attention and follow through. That day the follow through was instant; by the grace of God we somehow came down the other side of that "mountain" in one piece and the car didn't have a scratch. Needless to say the rest of the way to work was done at a much higher rate of caution and quiet as a church in prayer. To this day my driving skills reflect back to that day. I'm sure for those of you that have been in a car with me would agree. Twenty years ago he took on the challenge of dealing with my mom's illness and was always there to help her through her challenges and fight against her battle that she eventually lost. I remember coming home and seeing him work tirelessly to make sure her needs were tended to; getting her to the medical appointments she needed and taking care of the house. All along he always stopped to make sure we were ok during this difficult time. I do remember my mom sharing stories with me when I visited her about their trips to the doctor. She said she wasn't sure what was going to take her first, the cancer or my dad's driving. So you see I come by it naturally and know it is part of my DNA. Thanks Dad! The last couple of years my dad took on his own challenge with his health and never stopped thinking he was going to get better and planned for the future. He once again didn't want to bother anyone and was always worried about them rather than himself. He constantly apologized anytime someone had to go out of their way to help him. He even went to the grocery store by himself and used one of those electric shopping carts to go up and down the aisles. Needless to say the driving skills were still there and he was trying to make a U turn in an isle; he ran into the one behind him knocking it down and when he realized what he was doing slammed it into forward and knocked down the one in front of him. Clean up on aisle 6 please!!! Some things never change. I know there are many stories out there that many can tell and hope that you can cherish them as I am these. Dad, thanks for all you taught us and helped us to become what and who we are today. May you have fair winds and calm seas; you have been relieved of your duties; your watch is over. May God welcome you into his kingdom and start the best years of your eternal life. Donations in memory of Bruno may be made to the American Diabetes Association