Chris Thomas Cunico (29 Jan 1950 - 27 Aug 2014)

I want to thank everyone for being here today to pay tribute to my brother Chris Thomas Cunico. His life was tragically cut short on August 27th. We are gathered here so that together we may acknowledge and share both our joy in the gift that his life was to us, and the pain that his passing brings. In sharing the joy and the pain together today, may we lessen the pain and remember more clearly the joy.  It's an especially sad day for those who included Chris in their lives, but my hope is by sharing a few words about my brother will help alleviate some of your grief. It is the fond memories and personal attributes that made my brother such a wonderful person.

Chris lived his life persevering but we can take solace knowing he was strong in his faith and his relationship with God was unwavering. He was full of love and forever giving. His passing was no accident, this was all part of the Lord's plan. Out of tragedy must come good. From the carnage there must come comfort. From the despair, there must be hope.

With a telephone call from Pastor Tim, I knew my life would never again be the same. I drove to Denver from Chicago through tear filled eyes and during that 1000 mile trip, new thoughts of my brother kept popping into my head. When my son Jesse died the entire week was a fog to me. With Chris, I want to remember every detail, so I jotted down every thought on my trusty notepad.

Chris was only a year and a half older than me, but at times I think he felt a lot older than that. He was always overly protective of me. When I was younger I remember that this bothered me, but now that I look back I know that he just wanted what was best for me. He was always there for me when I needed him and I knew that I could talk to him about any problems I had. With 2300 miles separating us, we had weekly phone calls for which I'm eternally grateful.

In many ways Chris and I were a lot alike. In other ways we couldn’t have been more different. We were both successful in our professional careers and we both did well academically. I admire the fact that he was able to resume his academic endeavors after an early marriage that took him away from Western Illinois University. He did this while working during the day and going to college at night…. something I wouldn’t have the fortitude to do. He thrived at the challenge. He was one of the smartest people I know and you’ll never find a kinder heart.

OK, I know you’re looking at me saying “Is he really Chris’s brother… he’s so short”! Yep, he had me by 10 inches. Our father was even taller… he was 6’4”, and even our three beautiful sisters were taller than me. And you’re looking at my attire thinking “Is he really Chris’s brother… Chris dressed like he was right out of Gentleman’s Quarterly”. Yep, I’ve always been more into comfort!

Chris and I shared a similar sense of humor, although I would like to think mine was more refined. He would say something at a family gathering trying his best to be funny, but people didn’t get always laugh. He’d ask me, “Why do they laugh at you but not at me”? Humor was so very important to him… sometimes he just tried too hard.

He loved to talk about politics… I avoid these discussions like the plague. He was afraid of exposing himself on social media sites like Facebook. I spend hours on Facebook renewing acquaintances and pursuing my genealogy work.

My son Jesse was diagnosed as a TYPE-I diabetic when he was 7 months old. When he had questions about the disease, and there was no one else who understood what he was going through, he would pick up the phone and call Uncle Chris. I lost my son and only child Jesse Rae Cunico to this terrible disease we call diabetes when he was 32 years young. Chris gave a rousing talk at Jesse's funeral in 2006 in Florida about the rigors and tribulations of diabetes. The audience was completely captivated until about three quarters of the way through when Chris stopped talking. He developed that all too well known blank stare and I knew he “wasn’t there”... his glucose levels had bottomed out and he required immediate medical attention.

My brother Chris was diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes when he was five and a half years old. This was at a time when doctors said he probably wouldn't live to see 50. He lived with diabetes for 59 years, and throughout those years he endured most of the serious complications often associated the disease. Most recently, he battled recurring diabetic ulcers on a foot that had already gone through two amputations. He had four stints in his chest, suffered three heart attacks, multiple mini-strokes, severe arthritis, neuropathy in his legs, and he endured multiple eye surgeries. He had gone through so many vascular surgeries in the most recent operation they were no longer able to harvest veins from his body… they resorted to using cadaver veins to restore blood flow to what was left of his foot. I don’t think any of us really understand the complete ramifications of a life with diabetes. The last three years Chris spent more time in hospitals and rehabilitation centers than he did out. Such was his life.

A few months ago his cardiologist told him he had another major blockage but stints or surgeries were no longer an option. He was told his kidney counts were very close to requiring dialysis. Throughout, he managed his diabetes and the threats that it carried with a combination of intelligence, discipline, and a refusal to let diabetes define him.

My siblings and I were fortunate enough to be raised by a very loving family with the best virtues humanly possible. We call each other on every birthday and sing the birthday song. Chris made this into a competitive thing. He always wanted to know if he was the first to call. Then as we got older he started to cheat… he would call a day or two in advance of the actual birthday. This escalated to calling a week in advance. He called me this June (a week in advance) and sang to me. Yep, he was first! Then in July he called and sang again. I said “Chris, you already sang to me in June and you won.” His reply was “I know, I’m calling you for next year because I probably won’t be here”.

Chris said it best in a letter he wrote a letter to a Sacramento radio host when he heard a solicitation for assistance in Haiti:

"In my life, God has given me one more day of life countless times with strong mental and emotional health as we battle my many infirmities…I say “we” because He is with me; God gave me two college degrees instead of med school; He gave me six homes, four Corvettes and countless sports cars; He gave me a beautiful, precious daughter; He gave me the best team of physicians and specialists available in Sacramento and perhaps the country; He has given me a loving “family” of coworkers and the privilege of working in a Christian organization; He gave me a Bible-teaching church with loving friends and supporters there. He has given me so much more, and more than anything…He gave me Everlasting Life through my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."

Chris knew and understood that his salvation assured him a seat in heaven. The work was done by Jesus Christ on the Cross at Calvary, for you, for me, for Chris, for all who will believe and trust in Jesus. I will shed many tears for Chris while the sky weeps around me as he makes his own journey to God.

Chris was a man who made his mark in the world not with grand gestures or fancy titles, but by the basic goodness and generosity of his character. By the quality of his involvement with his fellow man, and how he brought out these qualities in others. He was very close to his family, and to his friends. He will be remembered as a wonderful brother, a great friend, an uncle, a cousin, a scholar and a caring adoring father with great integrity. Chris was exceptionally brilliant, generous, thoughtful, kind, good and prolific!

Despite his many achievements, Chris was modest and unpretentious; not just when it was irrelevant, but even when a little self-promotion would have served him well. He was one of those rare people whose accomplishments were greater than his ego.

He cared about the world around him. In all these ways and more, he made our lives richer and fuller.

Now that he has left his earthly home, of course there is emptiness and pain, confusion and maybe even anger at death coming to a man of only 64 years, but in many ways, the gift of Chris’s life is still here with us. He lives on in our memories and stories, and in what all of us have become because of him. So I encourage you to share today, tomorrow, and in the years to come, your memories and stories, and to share the pain of your loss as well. In this way we will keep the gift of Chris’s life alive.

My life feels so empty right now; I will miss my brother more than words can say. While I feel cheated at not having the chance to have him in my life longer, I am grateful for the time I did have to be his brother and to be his friend. He may be gone but his memory will continue to live on in our hearts and minds forever. We should all be thankful for knowing him and for his time on earth. I hope that everyone here remembers what a wonderful person he was and on behalf of the rest of the family, I’d like to thank you all for coming here today. We are all grateful to all those who were there for Chris!

Bro', I love you and always will. I’m proud of all that you accomplished and I’m proud to be your brother. We will remember you through the many people still left behind whose lives you touched so positively. With your beautiful daughter Victoria, you leave an amazing legacy behind. Through her you leave this world a better place than when you found it and for that you have to be very proud.

We will always remember you with respect, admiration and love. While our hearts ache from our loss, we should take comfort in knowing he is safe and he is in the hands and arms of his loving family who have gone before him. He is with a loving Heavenly Father who needs him in Heaven to continue on in his Eternal progression.

There is a quote that says, "By the time that I die, I want it to have mattered that I have lived". It mattered that Chris lived. We are all the better to have had the privilege of knowing and loving him. Now it is our turn to "make it matter" that we have lived. May the Lord bless and take care of our beloved Chris. Until we meet again, in heaven! Rest in Peace Chris and God Bless!