Long Good Bye

Yesterday we visited the cemetery where Rocky’s parents are buried. We cleaned their gravestones, weeded the plot and paid our respects. I gazed out at all the other grave markers realizing that each has a story, a biography. Who were they, what did they do during their life that they would have remarked upon, and who were their great loves in life? They came from where, lived where, and died here. What is the interstices connecting all of these facts of this particular life? And how many other lives did he or she intersect?

I know a little of the stories of Rocky’s parents. Born and raised in Italy near Bara. Rocky’s dad emigrated to America, got settled, then returned to Italy, married his sweetheart of longstanding interest, brought her home to America and resettled again. Along the way he financed the emigration of many of his family to America. And he and Clara brought two sons into the world – Joseph and Rocco. Each had their lives, of course, but they were intertwined with Joseph, Sr. and Clara for the rest of their lives. The family business absorbed their interest – a small family grocery store, first in Little Italy in Chicago on Taylor Street, then in Melrose Park.

I’ve heard many stories. Seen photos galore, even an 8 millimeter film or two, or three!

Stories. Biographies of individuals, then couples and finally families with generations of linked biographies. Modern day funerals are immense. I’ve attended a few. Those reminders of the generations are important guideposts. This is true in Rocky’s family. So too in my daughter’s marital family and my son’s as well. Both kids married into large extended families so typical of American life and culture. Liz’s is eastern European while John’s is Cuban and Mexican. How diverse is all of that? And so wonderful, too!

My family was small. Parents and three kids. Today each kid lives in a far separated state – Arizona, New York and Illinois. Not much communication and very little visiting face to face. That is all in the past as aging has added levels of logistical difficulties! That’s part of the biography as well.

In our case my brother married into a small and contained family. My sister did not marry but has maintained extended family ties with two or three families. My wife’s family was also small and contained. Our core family gatherings while our kids were growing up were small and well defined. Christmases were alone with our small nuclear family, or we added an Aunt and Uncle from time to time. Grandparents were also gathered under our roof but rarely in winter. They visited from California and Arizona and were no longer up to the cold Midwestern winters!

All of those folks are gone now. Ann’s parents have passed away. My dad passed away a long time ago. Most aunts and uncles have also passed away. But my mother remains a long lived forebear! At 101.5 years of age, 102 this coming February, she remains in stable health living in an assisted healthcare facility. She no longer travels. Neither do we for the most part. And if we did we couldn’t make it out to Arizona and back on our budget! So mom’s farewell is a slow motion long goodbye. That’s something worth pondering.

I do ponder upon it nearly every day. Not morbidly but historically and biographically. Remembering our roots is important as long as it does not take over our focus on today and tomorrow. The past is prologue to the rich today we live abundantly in this moment. And that is prologue to tomorrow and the long march of future tomorrows.

We are none alone. We are the product of many people, events and movements of history. All have shaped us. all have birthed us in some manner or other. Making sense of it all is our job. We ignore the precursor moments and biographies at our own peril.

Live in today fully but celebrate the past as well. It helps us value today and the tomorrows that will surely come.

September 23, 2015