Al is now at this point retired (forced out at 62) and lives in Somerville, Mass. in a Senior Complex that friend Joan Rajchel helped him find. He stays there and we who are still on the East Coast visit him regularly. My 4 children get to know him pretty well, although they just see him from time to time and holidays. I think, although he had visits from his other children and grandchildren, and friends, and though he lived in this beautiful place he is still lonely. When son Kevin is married, Evie comes east for the wedding, and spends some time with Al, which was to become her last visit. Loneliness and depression continue to dog him. He has prostate surgery leaving him sicker than he should have been. He has a bout with Lung Cancer and is treated at the best of all hospitals, Mass. General, and never relapses. He does suffer until the end of his life with Emphysema, which makes his life difficult towards the end. Not impossible, mind you, because dear reader, this is Big Al. He just hates toting those damn oxygen bottles around. Sometimes he would just wear the plastic nose cannula like a crown on his snow white hair when it bugged him too much, or leave it puffing away, hanging on a chair arm or bedpost.
Eventually we move him to New Jersey because at least we have family here to look after him. Evie dies in California, of cancer. We bury her in a beautiful spot in Massachusetts, just outside of Boston, that Al bought for them both years ago. He tries living alone here but after a couple of serious illnesses and the beginning of dementia (he's still a handsome fella at age 85 or so, with a great smile that everyone comments on) we bring him home after a major surgery to my house. We rub along together fairly well. At this point, we find an adult day care facility that he attends. He calls it his work, and that's good, because I don't think his pride will let him think he needs day care. He complains about how he doesn't get paid from his work. I smile and explain direct deposit to him. He says ok, but still doubts that they are on the up and up with him. I am now widowed, and alone here, but I have help from my son Bruce who spends alot of time with Al. Bruce finishes his workday earlier than I, and comes over to prepare meals and chats and is just grand company for him until I get home from the office. Bruce is very kind to him, asking Al's help in doing whatever needs doing. If Bruce is doing some carpentry here, he will get Al to hold or measure or mark things for him. This is a kindness that makes Al feel needed. Sometimes when cooking a meal, Bruce will share a beer with Al, who feels like this is old times. He makes a big deal of having a beer, when I get home. It's fun to listen to the old man and the boy. Well not so much a boy, as Bruce is now in his late 30's and a parent himself. It's nice, because it's clear that they love each other, although sometimes, though he knows he loves this young man, he doesn't remember how they are connected. Some days Old Age is sad. He enjoys a love affair with my children, especially the boys, I think, and often wonder if it is accelerated by the loss of his boy. Although Kevin is born after Billy's death, he grows up on the west coast and has limited knowledge and exchange with Big Al. So, Al's time with my boys, Joe and Bruce (I have always called him Skip, but only immediate family have that privilege) are treasured. Joe would come get him and just the guys would go to breakfast. When Joe was small, he played baseball and this was a real treat for Big Al. He went to as many games as he could, always cheering Joe on, good game or bad. Great times for him. In later years they would phone visit, and Al always called him Dodeff (baby name for Joseph) when he talked to me about Joe. My son in laws were his great friends as well. Susan's husband Bob was always ready to hug and welcome Al, no matter the event, and this was something Al enjoyed. He loved to hug, and Bob is great at it! Nuri, Debbie's husband, was another source of help in the difficult days, and when Nuri was between jobs.. Nur is an engineer, and someone Al could talk and relate to about his early research day. And bless his heart, Nur would talk and listen for hours, and walk with him during his last year. Nuri loved to work in the garden and Al loved the results of a garden the beautiful flowers that Nur could grow. I remember them sitting on the couch one day talking, and Al was holding Nuri's hand while they talked. Many would have not been comfortable holding an old man's hand. Such a kindness will be repaid, I am sure.
The end is fairly easy for Big Al, and we who loved him are grateful for that. His body gets tired and has trouble providing oxygen, and red blood cells in his bone marrow. His lungs, now so damaged from the emphysema, make pneumonia a constant threat. On his last trip to the hospital, he was fighting pneumonia and was just tired. Once again he needs a blood transfusion for his low red cell count. He again has pneumonia. He is up and down all week, rallying one day, and failing the next. But I am not too concerned. This is what he did. Frequently. One minute deathly sick. Suddenly he will feel better and be raring to go.
One sunny afternoon, my son Joe (named for big Al, by the way) and I were sitting with him while he slept peacefully.. About 5:20 pm, he awoke for a moment, looked up at Joe, closed his eyes again and left this life peacefully. I'm glad I was there. I wish I'd have known ahead so Bruce could have been there. I called him to let him know, and he came up to the hospital, along with Mary Elizabeth, my sister Mary's daughter. We three sat with Al for several hours, in the room, just talking memories until we were all talked out. I believe Al was with us in spirit. It felt very comfortable. When we kissed him good by, and we left, is when I think that Al left to go wherever it is that we all have to go. And I firmly believe that my mother, Evie, my Sister Diane, my husband Bruce, and both of my grandmothers and Billy were there to take him home. And when time comes for me, I hope they, including Big Al, come for me.
It was a privilege to know him, a source of pride to be his second daughter, and an honor for me when he would stand in for my husband so many times with my children, whose father died when my family was so young.
We love you still, Big Al. We know you haven't gone far.
Alma
