At roughly the same time he left work for as long as I can remember, my father Bill Murphy passed away March 6, 2019 in Hingham, Massachusetts.
It look 11 years for cancer to ultimately get my dad. After his original diagnosis he was given months to live, back in 2008. Through a combination of force of will, scientific miracles, and an abounding love from everyone who ever met him, my father managed to live over a decade longer than expected. He managed to witness my sister and I both graduate from college; me graduate from the grad school he inspired me to attend; for both my sister and I to get and achieve at myriad jobs; and to go on vacations with all of us, as well as spending his passing minutes with the love of his life, my mom.
Cancer dictated the rules of my dad’s life over this last decade, but he lived to the fullest within them. Some of my happiest and strongest memories of my family is holidays that should’ve been marred by impending chemo or radiation appointments, but instead were joyous occasions full of happiness and love, as if nothing were hanging over this family. I am inordinately thankful for all of those occasions we got that we didn’t think we would.
This is not a eulogy, but rather quick thoughts that have come to me on this broken MacBook hours after his passing — better words will hopefully flow when I’ve had more sleep.
If you’ve met my father, you know that he’s effectively a better version what I wish to be. He’s patient, insightful, caring, kind, and loyal. He would listen to you closer than anyone, and probably give you better advice than you’d ever had. He wanted to help get the best out of everyone, and cared deeply for us. He was the one—at a young age—who got me interested in both technology and journalism, by sharing snippets from the International Herald Tribune daily, along with the FT and the Times.
He, like his father before him, would clip out pertinent articles for everyone he knew, leaving his paper looking like monochrome Swiss cheese by the end of the day. I saw the value he put on the truth, and the people who wrote with honesty, and wanted to write like they did. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the advice and belief from my dad, who pushed me to be better than I was the day before.
Details on a funeral service in Massachusetts will be announced soon, and we’re planning on having a memorial service in London in the very near future.