The Way They Were ...

As my sister-in-law’s twin, Gerrie, said at the recent tribute honoring Patty’s life, “It is a rare love story.” She was talking about my brother Bob’s 48-year marriage to Patty, who left us with a huge void in our family on December 20th. On December 29th, a very rainy Sunday afternoon, some 300 people – family, friends, teaching colleagues, students -- gathered in a beautiful setting on Long Island Sound to remember and celebrate someone they clearly admired and loved.

I was honored to be among the several speakers who recalled how Patty touched their own lives in some way. Here’s what I said:

I would spend the night at Patty and Gerrie’s house on Lewis St. in Trumbull, and likewise, Patty stayed over at my house. She had a “crush” on my big brother. When she found out that he and his buddies were going to the New York World’s Fair, she asked me to ask him if we could go along with them. Bob was a junior at William & Mary in Virginia at the time and home for the summer. I had to beg him to take us along. Ultimately he relented. And a good thing, because it was indeed there -- and I swear that I can still see the look on his face when I turned around -- that I saw him fall in love with Patty. And you may not believe this, but I even remember fireworks going off right then. After all, it was the Worlds Fair.

Later that summer I went on vacation with my parents, and Bob and Patty had their first date. She wrote me nearly every day and in one letter she said, “He’s real cool.” And about their date she said -- and I quote, “I wrote you a letter earlier saying it was great, but I’ll tell you again (I don’t mind) it was real real great!!” She also asked me to burn that letter. Obviously I didn’t. I saved them all and I’m so glad I did. Those letters document, in Patty’s own words, their earliest history. I am passing them along to Paige and Elizabeth now.

I’ve watched Bob and Patty as a couple for some 50 years. I have observed her total, unrelenting devotion to her daughters and my brother. They rarely spent a night apart, up until her most recent extended hospital stay, and even then he was with her nearly every moment.

Paige’s husband, Christopher, said something to me at one of our holiday gatherings that really struck a chord. He said, not everyone can have what Bob and Patty have. He was, of course, referring to their loving, supportive relationship. I saw that often. I remember vividly the last time I was with Patty at a get-together at Elizabeth’s house on September 1st of this year, just two days before her AML diagnosis. It was for Bob’s birthday. We were sitting on the couch in the living room chatting about any number of things. Patty’s hand lay gently on Bob’s arm the whole time we sat there.

And the rest is history, as they say. Their strong bond has given them a life of love and joy, two wonderful daughters, and two rambunctious grandsons whom they’ve doted on as well. As I recently told Bob, his love for Patty is beautiful and I realize more than ever that this kind of devotion is the only thing of value on this crazy earth. And that will stay with him forever as will all our individual memories stay with us -- those who loved Patty and had the privilege to share so many wonderful days with her.

JFK and "Joy in the Journey"

I was a young girl when President Kennedy was assassinated. There are many retrospectives on TV as we approach the 50th anniversary of that tragic event. I well up in tears watching them as if it all just happened, still haunted by that day. I can barely tear myself away from TV today just as I couldn’t so many years ago.

I couldn’t possibly do the justice, for example, that CBS Sunday Morning did in their coverage of life in 1963 when “Camelot” was in full swing and the aftermath of the day JFK was shot. It brought back the myriad of emotions I felt so I want to at least try. The program captured many, if not all of the elements that made John Kennedy’s brief presidency resonate so strongly in the hearts and minds of those who lived during that era and even those who came well after, right up until the present day.

My fascination with John Kennedy started on November 6, 1960 when my parents brought my brother and I to Bridgeport Airport in Stratford to watch as his motorcade passed by us. It was a campaign trip and I recall the thrill, perhaps even more so in retrospect after he became president, of seeing him in person.

Yes, it was a fairy tale of sorts, but does that matter? Even as a young girl, I knew that life would never be the same following his death. It’s never really about the reality; it’s almost always about our perception -- how we feel when we see images of the ideal; how we strive to be like Jack and Jackie, the lead players; and how we still mourn the shattered idyll, destroyed so cruelly and so irrevocably.

Many of us who lived during that time can remember those days in November and still feel the overwhelming grief that replaced charm, wit and optimism. I was glued to the black and white TV in our living room from the moment I got home from school that Friday, following the announcement that came over the Trumbull High School PA system. We filed in stunned silence onto school buses. As if the assassination wasn’t enough, the following Sunday, as I continued my TV vigil, I watched, live, as Jack Ruby murdered Lee Harvey Oswald. I shouted down to my mother who was doing laundry in our basement, “Someone just shot Oswald!”  Talk about reality TV.

The day JFK died, I wrote down my thoughts on a small piece of lined school loose-leaf paper. I folded it into a small square and tucked it into the hole in the bottom of a hollow ceramic statue that sat on a knick-knack shelf in my bedroom. At some point, I must have destroyed that scrap of paper. I don’t remember when or why. It was probably too painful to keep, to read and to remember. So when I went to look for it years later, sadly it wasn’t there. But I can guess what I wrote: “President Kennedy was assassinated today. I am very sad and I don’t think life will ever be the same.” And somewhere deep inside of me, I know that turned out to be true.

In June 1985, President Ronald Reagan paid tribute to John Kennedy at an event supporting the Kennedy Presidential Library. I found this excerpt worth reading, and rereading, not only as a tribute to the man, but as a reminder of how fast life comes and goes for us all. If we take these words to heart, perhaps we will find in JFK’s enthusiasm for life and his overriding joy in the journey, short as his was, some remnant of the optimism for ourselves that once pervaded our country.

“Everything we saw him do seemed to betray a huge enjoyment of life; he seemed to grasp from the beginning that life is one fast moving train, and you have to jump aboard and hold on to your hat and relish the sweep of the wind as it rushes by. You have to enjoy the journey, it's unfaithful not to. I think that's how his country remembers him, in his joy. And it was a joy he knew how to communicate. He knew that life is rich with possibilities, and he believed in opportunity, growth and action.”

[President Ronald Reagan, June 24, 1985. http://www.jfklibrary.org/About-Us/About-the-JFK-Library/History/1985-Tribute-by-President-Reagan.aspx ]

Luck

In talking about why he founded the Hole in the Wall Gang for children with serious medical conditions, Paul Newman said, “I wanted, I think, to acknowledge Luck; the chance of it, the benevolence of it in my life, and the brutality of it in the lives of others, made especially savage for children because they may not be allowed the good fortune of a lifetime to correct it.”

My family has been very lucky when it comes to health and longevity. So when my brother Bob’s wife, Patty, was diagnosed with AML (Acute Myeloid Leukemia) this past September 3, it hit us, just like any other family who confronts a serious illness, with a crushing blow. It was discovered through a routine blood test.

I tried to wrap my head around how this could happen so suddenly – no symptoms, no warning. I saw Patty just two days before the doctor called with this news. She was, as always, the picture of health. I searched for insight as I faced reality which was soon followed by thoughts of my own mortality and the fragility of our lives.

Then I read this quote and it began to help me accept and acknowledge that we are all tossed about by the whim of fate:

“To the dumb question ‘Why me?’ the cosmos barely bothers to return the reply: why not?”

Christopher Hitchens, a writer and atheist, said this after learning of his own illness. He died from esophageal cancer a couple of years ago at the age of 62. Writing was what was important to him. His heavy drinking and smoking contributed to his writing, but it also, no doubt, contributed to his death.

What’s important to Patty is teaching, and by all accounts she has been a terrific high school biology teacher since she graduated from UCONN, taking a period of time off to be a full-time mother. I have observed her total, unrelenting devotion to her daughters, Paige and Elizabeth, and my brother. As far as I know, the only night Bob and Patty ever spent apart, up until her most recent extended hospital stay, was when Bob had his appendix out when they lived in Cornwall, NY many years ago with their one-year-old daughter, Paige.

More recently, Paige’s husband, Christopher, said to me: “Not everyone has what Bob and Patty have.” He was referring, of course, to their loving, supportive relationship. I see that now more than ever as my brother spends most of his days by Patty’s side at Stony Brook Hospital, only leaving to do errands around 4 p.m. and coming back soon after that to stay with her until she falls asleep anywhere from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m., or later if necessary.

I’ve watched Bob and Patty as a couple for many years. Patty was one of my best friends in high school. She had a “crush” on Bob and asked me to ask him if we could go to the New York World’s Fair with him and his buddies. We were in high school and Bob was a junior in college. I had to beg him to take us along. He finally relented and it was there (and I swear I can still see the look on his face when I turned around) that I saw him fall in love with Patty. I even remember fireworks going off at that moment. It was the World’s Fair after all.

And the rest is history, as they say. Their strong bond has given them a life of love and joy, two wonderful daughters, and two rambunctious grandsons whom they dote on as well. In so many ways, they are very lucky and we are all counting on that luck to stay with us now.