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February 22, 2008
Letting Go
I had my suitcase packed and was almost out the door to catch a plane when the phone rang around 7am. I figured it was Rob reminding me to bring something he knew I would forget. And it was him. "He just passed away."
I took a cab to Union Station. The cab driver was a li'l Chatty Kathy. Somehow he talked me into having him take me directly to the airport in Baltimore, instead of the train station. I think it's when he asked me how old I was, "What are you, 25, 26?" I was like, "Oh you're so sweet. Actually I'm 24, thanks. *giggles* And yes! I would love for you to take me all the way to BWI." I managed to talk the price down considerably. I think he just wanted someone to hear him out.
He brought up politics, crime, race, life, death, etc. He spent quite a bit of time telling me how he doesn't really like black people. This was kind of odd since he was...black. "But I'm from Trinidad!" I said, "Uhhhh...they're not all bad, except for Jada Pinkett Smith. There's rotten apples in every bunch." Then I looked around to see if maybe I was being Punk'd.
Anyway, I'm sitting at a coffeeshop in New Hampshire. It’s snowing like crazy. Everyone is yelling: “My cah wouldn’t staht this mahnin’!”
It's all very surreal when we begin to face the mortality of our own parents. You start to deal with things that your peers are also going through, things that you still feel too young to acknowledge.
A lot of people are saddened by the death of Rob's father. He worked in the school district for 37 years; first as a gym teacher, then as the athetic director.
He was quoted in a local newspaper as saying, I never had a lot of money, but I did have a very rich life, full of wonderful memories with friends and family, and a soulmate of over 46 years. A cliche, maybe, but one I wish more people would realize.
In the 12 years I’ve known him, I never saw him sad, depressed or angry for a long period of time.
He was always sweet to me, but after his cancer diagnosis, and my own issues a couple years ago, we became closer. Strange, I know, but it's true. When I said goodbye to him after my first visit to see him since his diagnosis, he gave me a big hug, and then he did something he had never done the previous ten years -- he kissed me on my cheek. "You take care of you," he said.
That's how wonderfully unselfish he was.
And despite the toll it was taking on his body and how he was aware of the inevitable, he held Rob's hand and occasionally kissed it and kept smiling until the very end.
"You take care of you."
Posted by durban bud at February 22, 2008 03:07 PM
Comments
Sorry about Rob's Dad. That's a bummer. He left you with a great inspirational message to always ponder. I like it. You should take care of you because you ARE special.
Are you really 24 years old? I don't know if I believe that. We are talking about actual years and not maturity years aren't we? I pegged your actual age to be about 34 years old. Am I right?
DB: Of course I was joking. Any true reader would know my real age -- which actually changes tomorrow. GULP. Shhhh.
Posted by: brettcajun at February 22, 2008 05:13 PM
It's time like these that not only bring up the issue of our own mortality but the way in which we lead/live our lives. Sounds like Mr. XXXXX (aka-CONNIE from the newspaper ads) really did try to live his life full/happy.
My best wishes and love for both you and Rob through this period. You boys are much loved by us all!
With admiration and love,
the Sarge
Posted by: sarge at February 22, 2008 06:14 PM
sorry about Robs loss... and you don't look a day over 21
Posted by: Kelly at February 22, 2008 06:16 PM
This was a beautiful story. Thank you! What a great way to be remembered
Posted by: Guillermo at February 22, 2008 06:23 PM
Sincere condolences to you, Rob and all Robs' family and a MASSIVE happy birthday sexy fella. Tomorrow isn't it? Take care D x
Posted by: Dillon at February 22, 2008 06:41 PM
My condolences to you and Rob and your family. My own family lives in the Granite State (and the Bay State, on the bordah.)
Happy 67th Birthday, in gay years!
Posted by: Mike at February 22, 2008 09:18 PM
You and Rob are going to be 37 like me! WHEW!!! I was so tired of being older than you, Rob, and Moby. Thank God my 38th birthday aint until June! Whew!
Posted by: brettcajun at February 22, 2008 09:29 PM
Condolences to you Rob and the family. Hope you are able to sneak in a little happy birthday as well. As we say here in Chicago...You take care of da bod of ya's.
Posted by: Boomer at February 22, 2008 09:46 PM
For such a sad topic, that really was sweet ;-)
Oh, and here - it's already tomorrow. Happy Birthday.
Posted by: matticus at February 23, 2008 12:11 AM
Sorry for you and Rob's loss. Also Happy Birthday to you and Rob too.
Posted by: Sarah at February 23, 2008 07:54 AM
What a sweet, lovely post and thank you for passing on "You take care of you."
My condolences at your loss.
Posted by: Herb at February 23, 2008 08:48 AM
Give Rob a big hug and be there for him, which I know you will be. It's hard, I know. Condolences.
Posted by: ivan at February 23, 2008 11:10 AM
Lord, this post made me cry. I love hearing about Rob's dad's life - it sounds like he appreciated everything he had. Sending my thoughts to both of you guys.
And happy birthday to my pisces brother :)
Posted by: Long Story Longer at February 23, 2008 02:54 PM
Oh, honey I'm so sorry for the loss for you both. Do take care of you; this life is really, really good and is meant to be lived with as much joy as possible every minute. Sending lots of love to you both!
Posted by: Raybob at February 24, 2008 12:15 AM
Sorry to hear of your and Rob's loss. {hug}
Posted by: sandy at February 24, 2008 06:27 AM
Please give Rob our condolences.
Posted by: dumbek at February 24, 2008 07:37 AM
TJ, really sorry for your and Rob's loss. Thanks for sharing that very sweet message from your father-in-law. We all should be so lucky to have that kind of love from our families. Thoughts are with you!
Posted by: BobScott at February 24, 2008 10:00 AM
Hi buddy. You and Rob are in my thoughts at this time of loss. Rob's dad sounds like a wonderful human being who left behind a legacy of love and peace for all who knew him. Oh, and 'cause I don't wanna forget -- happy birthday, TJ. Love you bro!
Posted by: Rob at February 24, 2008 10:56 AM
Gosh, I'm very sorry for both of y'alls loss. I hope... well, I hope that everyone is okay.
Posted by: cb at February 25, 2008 09:02 AM
Very sad...sounds like a wonderful man.
Bob always reminds me that that the verb "to linger", while sometime carrying a pejorative connotation, also describes one who hesitates before going on a journey to survey the faces and venues of life and love. As the journey begins, the love is not lost, but remembered and cherished.
Posted by: stebbins at February 25, 2008 10:33 AM
Oh God, I'm so sorry.
Posted by: atari_age at February 25, 2008 11:52 AM
I'm so so sorry. I wish I had something thoughtful and poetic to share that could ease your suffering, but sorrow generally quiets me, so I leave you with this: you and Rob are in my thoughts and prayers. Love and hugs to you both.
And, despite the awful circumstances, happy belated b-day to one of my favorite picses.
Posted by: 'stina at February 25, 2008 03:41 PM
Thanks for all of the well wishes and thoughts these past few days. It has been a sad time and spending our birthday at his wake was surreal but I have decided we can be 36 for a few more days and celebrate our birthday when I return to DC.
As far as his passing, thankfully, I was able to work remotely from my parent’s house the last few weeks and had some real quality time with my dad (and mom) as well as being able to lend a hand, as things became more difficult for him. He never grew bitter about his circumstances and even after he could no longer speak or walk, he blew kisses, held hands, gave hugs, and smiled at all those who came to see him. His last words to me were "I love you."
As the wake and memorial service are now over, I have been analyzing my feelings and the events of these past few weeks. I have to tell you being gay was a liberating force in my father's passing. I was not hung up on any of this machismo bullshit that so many men in our society are constrained by. I was very affectionate with my father these past weeks. I often held his hand, rubbed his back after a nightmare, snuggled in his hospice bed as best I could and affectionately rubbed his arm as I told him not to worry, that I loved him and I was so thankful for such a wonderful dad. I also told him not to worry he could go now, we would all be ok as a family and of course we would miss him terribly.
Our family took solace in the hundreds who attended the wake. The funeral home was filled with overt thirty bouquets of flowers. He touched so many people’s lives in ways that I never knew. He was a good man and he will be missed.
Below is his eulogy. It gives a small glimpse, of my father. I removed some names to respect their privacy.
Our family struggled these past few days to find the precise words to express what he meant to us - and to all those who knew him. How can you possibly convey such a rich and rewarding lifetime in only a few paragraphs?
Yesterday morning, as we compiled our thoughts together, we received a thoughtful, touching and heartfelt note from our next door neighbor. We felt strongly that she had captured so much of his spirit in her humble note.
She said and I quote,
“He was the first person to say ‘Hi’ to me in this neighborhood. He had a rake in one hand and a smile on his face. I didn’t realize then how special he was. He was more then the caring neighbor or the father that I never had, he was the kind of person I could only hope to be.”
There are so many warm stories, fond memories and well wishes that we have shared as a family and that all of you, his friends, students and colleagues, have shared with us. We have been told repeatedly and I emphasize, “He was a very special man and he will be missed. “
Our neighbor’s words eloquently describe many of his exceptional traits that we believe capture a slice of what made him so special:
He made people laugh.
He didn’t like unhappy thoughts.
He was the first person to help.
He was kind.
He was humble.
He was generous.
Our neighbor emphasized, “His greatness was his ability to make people feel uniquely special. He believed in the best of everyone and he made them believe it too!”
Our family acknowledges and is humbled by the fact that there are far too few people in this world who could be described with such loving and genuine words. As we prepare to part with one another, we ponder and reflect upon:
He was a wonderful husband and father.
His love for his family and for his friends was everything to him.
He was a dedicated and caring teacher and coach who touched many lives in a positive, meaningful and lasting way. We cannot tell you how many times people have said to us, “He was my teacher and he meant so much to me.”
He felt so fortunate to have found a career that he believed in, loved to be a part of and excelled at.
He was a gardener and took great pride in his yard. We will think of him whenever we see a beautiful garden and a perfect lawn – and I mean perfect.
He will be missed terribly, no one can ever replace him but we will preserve and find solace in every fond memory.
We will smile each holiday season when we see a Christmas village…or each fall when we see harvest moon above the ocean.
We will chuckle when we think of him “misplacing” his glasses.
We will discover his passion as a collector of all things - when we clean the basement.
We will recall his wit, when we struggle for words.
We will cherish his priceless sense of humor and borrow a few of his practical jokes when we are feeling playful, and we will embrace the fun-loving kid in all of us, when we loose site of it.
We will delight in each former student or former classmate, who stops us on the street to share their stories.
We will thank every colleague who described him as a friend.
And most of all we will cherish what he gave to us so unselfishly, his unbiased love, his ability to make us feel special and his gift for enjoying life. The memory of his beautiful smile will always make us smile.
Rob
Posted by: rob the other half at February 26, 2008 10:42 AM
aaaw, big hug to both you guys
Posted by: Brian at February 27, 2008 01:25 PM
OK Rob I am sitting here at work in tears. What a beautiful tribute. You are lucky to have had such a special Dad.
Posted by: Boomer at February 29, 2008 09:25 AM
Such beautiful words from both of you. Rob's father was obviously a great man. Big hugs to you both.
Posted by: rodger at February 29, 2008 09:53 PM