Matt,
I miss you, brother. That’s what you feel like to me. Even though I have about 8 months on you, you feel like an older brother to me. I look up to you, Matt, for guidance, how to raise a family, prayer life, serving others, and more.
I have only known you for 2 years, yet you still managed to draw me in as if I have been a member of your family forever. That’s what you do—you bring people together. You create a sense of community among what would have been strangers. Your hosting of family dinner week after week is a perfect example.
Your daily sacrifice is part of what makes you a true man of God. Ranging from your diet to your physical strength to your nausea to your pain…you never let anything stop you. Thursday night, when Lucy walked out and said you were asking for me to be with you, I didn’t expect what happened. You asked me to say something encouraging, anything that might help you get through the pain. I felt so unworthy and intimidated! The only story about getting through pain I could get out of my mouth was the one about my cross country days.
The story I really should have told you and the one that fits your situation the best is different than that. It’s the one where Jesus sacrifices himself for the good of others. The one where He takes the beatings, the scarring, the pain, and then carries his own cross, uphill, knowing the end was in sight. He did it all. He never gave up. He accepted help when it was offered, and even fell a few times, but he never gave up. He sacrificed so much for his community and family. Matt, that is what you have done. You got out of bed every day, spent hours a day preparing meals and medicines most of us could not even choke down if we tried, worked a full time job, and spent time with your family and friends. You did all of this while feeling nauseous, full of pain, and tired.
Living your life the way you did is what has caused you to leave the legacy you have left. You resemble Jesus to me, Matt, and you reminded us that the point of life is to continually resemble Jesus more and more. You looked at the end of the road and decided you were going to do whatever it took to stay on your feet until the end, whenever and whatever that was. You never asked for pity, but you asked for and accepted help humbly when needed. Most people wouldn’t know you had anything wrong until someone brought it up or saw your stylish fabric squares on your head for the clay treatments! This brings back a few memories.
I will never forget the time we were standing in your kitchen while you were putting the clay on your head. You turned to me and said it was edible. I didn’t believe you, so what did you do? You scooped out a chunk of clay, put it in your mouth and swallowed! That is definitely something I would have done. I am not sure if you threw that up after we left your house, but that is the type of thing that made you, you. Your sense of humor was right in line with mine…some people get it and some people just look at you like you dropped down from another planet.
Family dinner was the source of several random acts of good-natured brotherhood stupidity over the past year and a half. I won’t ever forget Matt daring Gerry Emig and me to shoot back a tablespoon of cinnamon. The thing I didn’t know at the time was that cinnamon cannot be taken in doses that size at one time. I tried to swallow it and realized very quickly that wasn’t going to work! Instead of blowing it out of my mouth, I actually ended up inhaling most of the cinnamon. The resulting powerful gag reflexes, as you might remember, resulted in the release of my own family dinner. Gerry, on the other hand, prevented all of that by blowing out the cinnamon. He, however, didn’t have the pleasure of cinnamon being stuck in his nose for the next day!
Gerry and I seemed to be the targets for Matt’s joy-filled pranks. Matt had some extremely hot habanero peppers he cut in half and gave us to taste. Gerry and I then turned it into a contest to see who could let it sit on their tongue the longest. Needless to say, after we began sweating, crying, and hopping around like little kids, we then tried everything in the kitchen to stop the burning.
Matt was a true example of how a husband should treat his wife. I remember Erin’s first Mother’s Day in 2009, when she was just a couple of months pregnant for Gabriel. Matt came up with a game plan on what we were going to do that day. We decided that we would let Lucy and Erin watch a movie while we babysat. While spending time outside, we cut some flowers from his garden to bring our wives. We then cooked them lunch and spent a wonderful day with the women of our dreams.
Matt loved serving others. A few months ago, he approached me about joining the Knights of Columbus. After some thinking and praying, we both became inducted several weeks ago. Gentlemen were asked to remove their hats for a certain part of the induction. I immediately remembered him putting all of his clay patches on his head before we left the house. He looked at me, smiled, and gave me a wink. Those two simple expressions meant so much. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed of what people would see or think. It was that he didn’t want to be treated any differently because of those patches. He took that hat off and stood there with dignity, strength, and the willingness to serve others.
A true example of Matt's thoughtfulness, strength, determination, selflessness, and willingness to serve others was shown to me in the beginning of our short relationship.
Erin and I talked briefly to Matt and Lucy about starting a summer class for Theology of the Body for teens. We set a date of Ash Wednesday. The Monday, a week before that date, he was out of town for brain surgery. It was supposed to be straighforward and a trip back home that week. He had a stroke (I am pretty sure) during the surgery and needed to spend more time at the hospital.
After spending a week out of town, Matt and Lucy arrived to Houston a day or two before Ash Wednesday. Knowing how exhausted and difficult a week they had, Erin and I asked to reschedule the meeting to give them time to recover. They were so excited to meet with us, they asked that we keep our meeting for Ash Wednesday.
Upon arriving to the Coles' house, I went to give Matt a hug. He had a tight grip, as usual. He said he would shake my hand, but couldn't because he didn't have much control of it at all. In fact, in telling me this, I could barely understand him because he was still regaining control of his speech. I was in shock! Why would he not just rest and let us meet another time?
We walked into the back yard and sat out by the table where we would have the meeting. Being the hospitalable guests Matt and Lucy always are, they asked us if we wanted anything to drink. I wasn't thirsty so I rejected along with Erin. Matt refused to let us sit there empty handed so he decided to get all four of us water.
Because he only had the operational capability of one hand, he couldn't bring multiple cups out at one time. He also refused to let me help him, telling me to sit down and enjoy the afternoon. Matt instantly won my heart as a brother in Christ and a true best friend when I watched him for the next several minutes. He walked very slowly spilling a little water here and there from the kitchen to the back door. He then put the cup down to open the door, picked up the cup, and walked outside to hand it to one of us. He did it as any noble and true man of God would. He served the women first, Erin being his guest, then Lucy, then me. What a true warrior and selfless person! He walked out four times to make sure everyone was satisfied.
I was not thirsty, but you can bet your life savings that I drank that water until there was nothing left in the glass.
Matt is a true example of the kind of man I want to be for my wife, family, friends, and guests.
One example of Matt’s natural way of leading others prayerfully was when we decided to go to a mixed martial arts competition. A friend of ours was competing and we wanted to show our support. Matt and I arrived to find we were definitely in a completely different environment from our normal lives. I just remember it being something I would have never wanted to take my wife or children to, yet we stayed to support our friend. Before the competition started, I remember Matt stopping the conversation we were having, to lead a prayer for all of those present. I could tell he was concerned for everyone there.
At a newly formed men’s group, we recently discussed praying from the heart versus praying from the mind. Matt, you definitely knew how to pray from the heart. You were genuine and everything you said was no doubt from the heart. I could go on with more stories but need to end it somewhere.
Matt, before I finish this letter, I want you to know how special your family is to me. I love Lucy, John-Matthew, Pio, and Andrew as if they were my own family. I know many men in our community are going to step up and help them. Please, please rest in peace knowing that I will be there every step of the way to help your sons become the men of God you yearn for them to be. The reason this will be possible is because you taught me and everyone around you how to truly live that out. Because of this, your children will learn and live the legacy you have left behind.
I love you so much, Matt! You will forever be in my heart. I plan to see you in Heaven one day (with God’s grace and Erin’s help) J
Your friend, brother in Christ, and family protector,
Michael W. Franco, Jr.
