Cherish people, not stuff.

Inspired from my brother-in-law, Robbie.  Things are just things.  Too often people attach memories to the objects rather than the people associated with the item.  An argument could be made that it’s too easy to forget about that person or act if you got rid of the item, but the real solution there is to find a better way to preserve memories or signs of affection, perhaps through words or actions, rather than becoming a collector of stuff.

Three years ago today, around 2pm, I watched the color from my dad’s face dissappear.  it was a Monday.  I held his left hand in my left hand.  I almost got sick at how he changed colors so fast and drastically.  J’aime, Serah, and Robbie were in the room too, but I’m not sure which ones were watching too.  A week before, almost to the hour, he found out he had a brain tumor.  He went into surgery that Friday, and never woke up afterward.

I’m going to recount the first night I went to see my dad, but only what I directly experience, and only what happened that night. 

.J’aime had called me from the hospital that Tuesday before and said that daddy wanted to talk to me.  I talked to him briefly and said that i’d come down to see him.  I didn’t right away.  It wasn’t until a day later when J’aime called me and said she needed me to come down right away that i actually went down.  I ran down to Mercy hospital since it was only a mile or so from my apartment.  Turns out, Robbie was trying to marry my dad, and that was a lot of emotion, at a very emotional time.

I got tried to get some alone time with my dad to talk about whether or not he wanted this.  The tumor had been causing him to forgot things and say things that didn’t make sense, and he just seemed out of it.  I said, "So, i hear something about you and robbie getting married, do you want that to happen?"  He immediately went from a dopey happy face to an embarrassed child’s face that knows he did something wrong.  He slumped down a little and looked away and said, "Oh.  I don’t know."  I only had a minute or so before some guy that knew daddy came in and sat down to interrupt us.  then Sarah Slavic came in too.  I didn’t get what time I wanted, but it was enough for me to know that it was out of the question to let talks of marriage continue.

Robbie had gathered all her relatives in the chapel downstairs.  They came with a ring and they were expecting a cermony.  I hadn’t talked to her family for quite a few years, but I always loved and missed them.  Robbie’s brother-in-law, Scott, was one of them that I felt I could really connect with because he just had a very easy going personality and was religious.  J’aime and I asked Scott if we could talk to him about what’s going to happen.  The 3 of us went into a room and talked very calmly about it.  J’aime and I said that there was no reason to rush this decision, they’ve had 7 years to get married and they never were able to comit to eachother then.  We said that he is not in any state of mind to make such a life changing decision, that not only affects him but everyone, ESPECIALLY if he died.  Scott said that we shouldn’t deny Robbie the chance to marry someone that she loved.  We failed to see eye to eye on the topic, which was shocking to J’aime and I because of how obvious the right choice seemed.

Robbie called for a Catholic priest she had been familiar with to marry them.  The priest wanted to meet with my dad before hand, as he always did, to make sure the two people want to unite.  As he did that, we called my dad’s best friend, Bruce, and let him know to come down.  I called my step-grand father, an attorney, and asked him what we’re allowed to do legally to stop this, or if we can’t what are we looking at in terms of the estate, life insurance, and anything else if my father dies and they are married.  It wasn’t pretty.  (but honestly, neither is what ended up happening anyway)

The priest came out and said that my father seemed very lucid but that my dad simply seemed like he didnt know if he wanted to marry Robbie, and on that ground, he wouldn’t marrry them.  Honestly, we all chuckled a bit at the relieve because the priest called my dad lucid.  As Robbie went to tell her family there would be no wedding, Serah and I went in with my dad.  This is where "Mr. Lucid" pointed to his IV and asked me if I knew what was in it.  I think i said something along the lines of, "the good stuff, I’m sure."  He said, and I’ll try to quote this as best as I can, "The mon valley express way.  they point it in there and it flows from here (points to bag) to here (points to forearm).  heh, i’m tearfully laughing here…wow dad, you really loved that express way.

A few minutes later, we were watching something on the TV and it hinted the mentioning of this dutch colony in the middle of the state somewhere.  For the life of me I can’t remember the name of it now.  But as he talked about it, I remembered going there as a kid in kindergarten.  I remember seeing their bread ovens.  I remember riding on the bus there.  I remember putting the wood bar that held pales of cow milk on either end on my shoulders.  A rush of these childhood memories came to me, that I don’t think i ever thought about until that moment.  It was quite overwhelming and refreshing, that these memories were coming to me, but not only that, but that my dad was reconnecting me to them.  how Ironic, the man that forced me to block out so much of my childhood was helping me remember some. 

When it came time to leave, everyone hugged daddy and told him that they loved him.  I wasn’t ready for that, because I expected him to come through that surgery fine, and I didn’t want him to think this was an open door to my life once he got better.  I waiting until last and just smiled at him and said, "hey, take care of yourself, I’ll see you this weekend when you get out." 

It’s present time, and me and my sisters are over at the estate doing random work inside the barn.  Keren’s boyfriend, Robbie, is there as well.  He and I are loading some bags of garbage into the back of the my truck.  Keren and my mom are around too, and we’re talking about me forgetting to get Keren a present  (Keren’s birthday was friday, and I didnt get her anything) but while we we’re talking, I said that no one told me who I had for grab bag, and I just assumed it was Keren, but that is why I didnt get a present for anyone, as if it were christmas.  We’re on the side of the barn where the pool used to be, but just enough infront of it, that if I turn around, I can see over to the park.  I do just that, but as I do, everything goes black and white.  I’m confused at first, but everything is so silent, everyone else seems to have disappeared for a moment.  I keep turning clockwise and there’s a large healthy tree where the pool used to be, still in black and white, but there’s a large section of the leaves on the tree that are bright red and orange.  So bright, so rich, it’s almost as if someone threw a bucket of red and orange paint into the tree, but the two colors are blended in so well to eachother.  I start to walk around the house, and I here music.  Not off in the distance, but everywhere, all around me, a turbulent classical peice, violent violins, booming drums, and a piano in the style of Rachmoninov.  It’s very intimidating and commanding.   As I come to the front steps, there are small flowers all around the steps, painted in the same thick, chaotic red and orange pattern as the tree, while everything else remains in black and white.  All the way in the front yard now, I look down the road to the left, where the trees form a sort of tunnel over the road, and I see Michael Galis, Robbie’s younger brother, in full color, but almost too much color, as if his color is was painted onto him.  Bright blue jeans, and a black shirt with a patterned stripe about 3 inches wide on either side of the chest running from the shoulders to the waist.  He’s got a semblance of a smile, but it’s what he’s doing that causes me to slowly back away from him as he comes towards me.  His hands are playing the piano to the piano in the music.  No piano, just his hands, so accurately and purposefully striking the air with every angry note of the piano music.  I keep walking backwards, struck dumb and just staring at him, watching him play, and I start to really get emersed in the music, and I get the sense of some impending presence, not so much doom, but just that "something" is coming.  My mom is on the deck on the side of the house, and the right side of her face is showing color, but only reds and oranges.   I’m standing there in the driveway for a good 5 minutes, listening to the music and waiting, waiting for something to come down the road, or something to happen, but nothing ever does.  I just look around and see these touches of color in this black and white world and I’m amazed at it.  Then, the music stops, I turn quickly, I think I let out an audible "whoa", and everything is back in color and I’m standing in the driveway next to the barn with Serah, Keren, Robbie, and J’aime.  I start telling them about what had just happened, I’m a bit shaky after the experience, and Serah gets mad at me for sharing it with them, and Keren starts to cry telling me it was just too much, and I feel bad for sharing it.  A car drives by and I jump; my nerves are shot.  I think that they don’t believe me, or they easily discredit my crazy dreams as nothing more than dreams.  Not that I was looking for them to take some prophetic meaning to it, but they couldn’t see the dream as something beautiful, as I did, and do.