Welcome to the memorial page for

Fred B. Wyche

April 19, 1944 ~ July 8, 2017 (age 73)

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July 20, 2017

9:00 AM
Shrine of the Little Flower - St. Therese of the Infant Jesus Catholic Church
3424 Fourth Street NW
Albuquerque, NM 87107

July 20, 2017

12:45 PM
Santa Fe National Cemetery
501 N Guadalupe St
Santa Fe, NM 87501

Wyche, Fred B.

Fred B. Wyche, dedicated family man, passed away Saturday, July 8, 2017. Fred, 73, was known for the exquisite guitars he hand-crafted. He loved music, making jokes, and fixing things.

He is survived by his wife, Monica; his daughter, Jessica, and his sister and brother-in-law, Martha and Dennis Sullins. He also leaves a large extended family, which he cherished. Fred was preceded in death by his father, J.B., and his mother, Nelline.

Mass will be held Thursday, July 20, 2017 at 9:00 a.m. at Shrine of the Little Flower - St. Therese of the Infant Jesus Catholic Church, 3424 Fourth Street NW, in Albuquerque. Interment will follow at 12:45 p.m. at Santa Fe National Cemetery, 501 N. Guadalupe Street. Everyone is welcome.

FRENCH – Westside

9300 Golf Course Rd. NW

(505) 897-0300



Fred Wyche was someone’s husband, someone’s brother, someone’s son. He was a guitar-maker, a machinist, a pressman, a jeweler, and an avid reader, among many other things. He could do anything, and anything he cared to do, he did exceedingly well.

But some people here may not know that he possessed a special genius. He had one area of his life in which his talents and natural ability surpassed all others. His genius was fatherhood. He was truly extraordinary at being a parent. You have shared your husband, your brother, your cousin, and you friend with me. I thank you, and in return, I would like to share my father, my best friend, and my hero with you today.

In 1984, when I was born, my father was 40 years old.  He was elated, but also afraid. He had waited so long to be a parent, and now he wondered if he would be any good at it. A few months later, he was diagnosed with guillain barre. Doctors told him that if he was lucky enough to live, he would be paralyzed. He was fighting for his life. He prayed to God this prayer: "Please let me raise my child, let me teach her about Your love, let me watch her grow up." He not only survived, he walked again, and I am the luckiest woman on Earth because his prayer was answered.

As I grew up, Dad always kept me close at hand. Because we did everything together, we were best friends. From the time I was in diapers, whatever he was working on, he always let me "help", even when my help made the job take twice as long. We hooked up the swamp cooler together every year. We fixed cars. He taught me about woodworking and soldering. He took me to the Publishing Company where he worked. Anything he did, I was always welcome.

But we didn’t just do things he wanted to do. When I showed an interest in something, he was on board with it. When he realized I liked music, he made me a little guitar with a mother-of-pearl unicorn inlaid on the body. He taught me to paint when it became clear I loved art. He took me to galleries in Taos so I could be inspired. When I got involved in singing, he came to all my choir concerts. He was also there for the day to day things. He braided my hair, made me breakfast, and took me to school each morning when my mom was already at work. These things might sound humble, and they are. He taught me that no one is too mighty to humble themselves for someone they love; not someone who was in the 101st Airborne, not someone in charge of hundreds of people at work, no one. 

I’m glad Dad taught me how to do things, and I’m thankful he supported my interests, but none of these were his greatest gift to me. His greatest gift was unconditional love. At times, I have not been easy to love, but my father never made loving me look hard. He never gave up on me. In my darkest times, my dad was there to hold my hand, to tell me jokes and make me laugh, to insist I not give up. Because of his time in Vietnam, I knew he had faced darkness of his own, yet he never shut me out. He never kept me at arm’s length. He always opened his whole heart to me. This is why he was my hero.

At the beginning of my life, when he prayed to be allowed to teach me about God’s love, he probably had no idea how well he would impart that lesson. It is easy to imagine a God who loves unconditionally because I’ve already been loved unconditionally. My father’s life will mean different things to different people, but to me, unconditional love is the meaning of my father’s life. I feel like what my dad wants to me say today is that he loved each and every one of you. I feel like what he wants of me is that I stand before you ready to try and love each of you with the same unconditional love I experienced. I’m going to make myself vulnerable and keep my heart open for each of you. I’m not just going to love you; I’m going to do better at demonstrating my love for each of you. That’s what my father’s life inspired me to, and that is what I hope you feel inspired to do also. Thank you. 

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