... just how special someone is until they are gone. Sometimes you don't even know how special they are after they're gone.
(Sorry if this note gets a little wordy or confusing... I'm still emotional and I'm tired from a long day)
On November 18th, 2008, my Uncle Tony Martorana passed away after a four year battle with cancer. I know that for my cousin Lindsay and her Mom, and obviously Tony, it was a long 4 years. I have the utmost sympathy and respect for the Martoranas and always will. Lindsay and Barbie, if your reading this... I love you very much and am always here for you guys.
Today was the wake for the funeral. The first thing I thought as I went in there was why people weren't more upset about what was going on. The last funeral I went to was when I was 13. That funeral didn't have much of an effect on my understanding of a funeral and I thought everyone should be sentimental and upset (as horrible as that may sound). As we neared the parlor, there was a table with a video of various pictures of Tony as well as some of his favorite music playing. As I watched the pictures flip through, I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't more upset. I saw my Uncle Chris beginning to well up and I couldn't help but feel awkward. I wasn't crying, nor was I close to it. I thought I was supposed to be emotional and saddened at this sight. Then I turned around and saw the open casket. This brought back memories of when my Grandma (Mom's side) passed away. I was in such a state of shock when I was looking at the woman who I had seen every year for the past 13 years of my life at Christmas. While I knew she wasn't there, just seeing her made it feel all to life like to me and I couldn't look for to long.
I guess today was a step towards adulthood as I wanted to see Tony. Like I said in the previous note... there is a strange connection - at least to me - between a Godfather and a Godson. It doesn't matter how close I was to him, the word itself creates a bond between the man and the boy. I will mark this section with an asterisk (*) and come back to this point later. As I walked up to the casket I saw Barbie for the first time that day. She was doing okay until everyone was walking up to Tony and began to cry. Then - for the first time - I saw the pain that must come with losing the person you love most in the world. I put my arm around Barbie and then she turned to me, looked me in the eye and said: "He looks like himself still doesn't he?", and she broke down. As I was hugging my Aunt, I couldn't believe what she had to be going through and I know there is still a long road. Regardless, after she left to go to the casket, it hit me. My Uncle, my Godfather, wasn't around anymore. I knelt down and said a few prayers for him (please pray for the repose of his soul and a quick term in purgatory) and as I got up, all the emotion that I was worried I wouldn't be able to show began to unfurl. I cried for about 30 minutes straight, and it was not your average crying. This was the hyperventilating, gasping type crying. As all of this was happening I started remembering the things that reminded me of Tony.
(*) This goes into the aforementioned part of my note. The link was realized as we were driving up to St. Louis for the funeral. I was trying to think about the bond that I had with Tony, and one glaring memory continued to rear its way back to me. Tony loved the drums. My favorite memory had to be when I gave him a tape when I was about 8 or so and I asked him if he could play the drums for the song. I sat in amazement as my Uncle put the tape on, listened for about 15-30 seconds and began to play along with the song. I thought that was the coolest thing ever and always wanted to learn how to play the drums after. He was my inspiration for banging my hands on tables and probably more of an influence on my musical taste than I actually realize.
Where does this tie into the body? I sat in the parlor most of today (with my eyes throbbing and my temples vociferating at me) thinking about how I hadn't taken the time to get to know my Godfather. I talked to my Mom about it as well. I never sat down and heard stories from him. I didn't get to know his sense of humor... how him and my Aunt met... how he grew up... how his religion affected his life? Isn't that what we are supposed to ask of our Godparents? They are supposed to help us in our faith walk and, as an adult male (as other males know), a guide to help me through any questions I might have about anything. I think back on the times I could have gotten to know him and am upset that I didn't take the opportunity. The old adage seems to come into play often in these types of situations: "You never know what you had until its gone".
I will never forget Tony. Not solely because he was my Uncle and Godfather. Not only because he is the father of the cousin who held the generations parties every year (my cousins and I that are close in age have awesome sleep over parties... no one will ever know such fun :D) but because he has made lasting impressions on me. Anytime I hear drums - I think of Tony and will continue to. Every Christmas, I will still think of Tony when we sit down for Christmas Eve or Christmas morning breakfast. Most importantly, Tony taught me how to be strong. He taught me to never give up and no matter the size of the obstacle; nothing should stop someone from living life. "Carpe Diem" right? He also taught me more about faith than I may ever really know or understand.
Anyone who reads this: don't take advantage of things. You may not have them around forever and you might not get the chance to know something (someone) or fully understand something (someone) as much as you truly want to. Arthur Koestler said: "The most persistent sound which reverberates through mens' history is the beating of war drums”. Tony and his war will always have a special place in my heart and the sound of his drums will be my war drums - the ones I hear when I need that little boost of confidence. I know he will always be with me now when I need that strength and I also know that he is now at rest with God. Tony - I love you very much. I am proud to be your Godson and I will always remember you. Thank you for the lessons you taught me face to face, while you were fighting, and the ones that you will continue to teach me as I go on in life. I miss you Tony. More importantly, I love you and see you upstairs.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Amazing Experience
Alright. I am currently sitting at a table on the front face of the library at Georgia Tech on the 4th floor (I thought I was on the 6th but apparently that was fallacious). I've been teaching myself differential equations for a good majority of this week in the library. I was sitting here working on a problem, when I "met" a rather unique individual. I believe (we never were formally introduced) his name was Noble Shepherd-Albay. It sounded weird to me at first but after this entire encounter it made a bit more sense (at least to me) - the following may make you believe I'm crazy but I enjoyed the experience.
This man was dressed in baggy jeans, and an enormous camouflage jacket with a turban-style hat. He wore huge sun glasses and seemed so humble. There was just an aura about him. Eventually, we caught each others' stare and he began to talk to me for a bit. I believe he said he was a professor (maybe a TA) for a Quantum Mechanics class (not sure if it was here or not - he had a very soft voice). I knew that I had been quick to judge him at first and felt bad about this very quickly because soon after, he came up to me and asked if I went to Waffle House. I, of course, said yes and he handed me a bracelet that gives you 10% off any meal you have their when you wear it in the establishment. So feeling bad, he asked if he could borrow my phone... I decided to indulge him.
I began to listen to this man (unintentionally at first as I had taken my headphones off so that I could be more attentive for when he returned my phone). As I was listening - it was first about charity work - which he then extended me an offer for but I had to decline as I have to still learn the rest of Differential Equations and 3 other classes - and, honestly I felt a tad uncomfortable still). So he continued on his calls and then began a new conversation with some motel's he had stayed with in the past. He was apparently fighting against charges that were incurred against him, when he was due 3 days and 2 nights free. As I listened - I was amazed at how calm this man was. He was very articulate - spoke very softly and had no rise in tone during the 40 minutes or so of conversation. I won't get into the details of all of the dispute but I knew that this man had also been in law as he spoke with these people with the ease of the greatest lawyers. I'm assuming at the end he had been successful or at least made a little head-way.
At the end he asked to borrow a dollar so he could get on MARTA to deliver the food to the charity today. I obliged again and he then said:
"Next time we meet, ask me for $20 on that $1".
I laughed at what I thought was a joke, which was followed by:
"I'm serious. You don't know who you are talking to do you?" (or something along those lines).
At this point I thought he was a huge musician or actor that I had not recognized and he grabbed his bag and brought it over to my table. He began to pull pictures out of bag that showed 'Noble' with Flava Flav, Janet Jackson, and he went on to say that earlier in his career he had helped bands (such as Ozzy Osbourne and some other Rock and Country bands) get their start. I just looked and smiled and he smiled back. After another small exchange of words and his advice (saying I should take me Chemistry major, go Pre-Law and do what his friend does: sues pharmaceutical companies for ill practice [wasn't sure again due to the soft voice but obviously some kind of injustice] for about 7 figures a year), he asked my name, shook my hand, and left down one of the stacks.
I stared at where he had walked away and just smiled at myself. It all made sense to me anyway. His name: "Noble Shepherd". He had religion in his life (albeit Muslim, but still a faith nonetheless). He made mention that he was fighting the motel chains so that they would not step on others as they were trying to do him (and in his own words, he was not one to be silenced) - he was a voice for others). He was soft spoken, continually happy, and very simple but very brilliant.
I was really surprised the way this whole experience had contracted itself and wondered why it was me that had the honor of this man's company. Now some people may think I am naive at this point or that I'm just easily impressed... All I have to say to those people is that you can think what you like but I extend this - what if that man was a "Noble Shepherd". My mind started to quickly work and I just kept coming back to that humble man from Jerusalem many years ago. I know it sounds crazy but my mind and my soul were just calling out that it could have been and that it was highly plausible that it was.
Take it for what it's worth, but to me, I just had a once in a lifetime experience.
This man was dressed in baggy jeans, and an enormous camouflage jacket with a turban-style hat. He wore huge sun glasses and seemed so humble. There was just an aura about him. Eventually, we caught each others' stare and he began to talk to me for a bit. I believe he said he was a professor (maybe a TA) for a Quantum Mechanics class (not sure if it was here or not - he had a very soft voice). I knew that I had been quick to judge him at first and felt bad about this very quickly because soon after, he came up to me and asked if I went to Waffle House. I, of course, said yes and he handed me a bracelet that gives you 10% off any meal you have their when you wear it in the establishment. So feeling bad, he asked if he could borrow my phone... I decided to indulge him.
I began to listen to this man (unintentionally at first as I had taken my headphones off so that I could be more attentive for when he returned my phone). As I was listening - it was first about charity work - which he then extended me an offer for but I had to decline as I have to still learn the rest of Differential Equations and 3 other classes - and, honestly I felt a tad uncomfortable still). So he continued on his calls and then began a new conversation with some motel's he had stayed with in the past. He was apparently fighting against charges that were incurred against him, when he was due 3 days and 2 nights free. As I listened - I was amazed at how calm this man was. He was very articulate - spoke very softly and had no rise in tone during the 40 minutes or so of conversation. I won't get into the details of all of the dispute but I knew that this man had also been in law as he spoke with these people with the ease of the greatest lawyers. I'm assuming at the end he had been successful or at least made a little head-way.
At the end he asked to borrow a dollar so he could get on MARTA to deliver the food to the charity today. I obliged again and he then said:
"Next time we meet, ask me for $20 on that $1".
I laughed at what I thought was a joke, which was followed by:
"I'm serious. You don't know who you are talking to do you?" (or something along those lines).
At this point I thought he was a huge musician or actor that I had not recognized and he grabbed his bag and brought it over to my table. He began to pull pictures out of bag that showed 'Noble' with Flava Flav, Janet Jackson, and he went on to say that earlier in his career he had helped bands (such as Ozzy Osbourne and some other Rock and Country bands) get their start. I just looked and smiled and he smiled back. After another small exchange of words and his advice (saying I should take me Chemistry major, go Pre-Law and do what his friend does: sues pharmaceutical companies for ill practice [wasn't sure again due to the soft voice but obviously some kind of injustice] for about 7 figures a year), he asked my name, shook my hand, and left down one of the stacks.
I stared at where he had walked away and just smiled at myself. It all made sense to me anyway. His name: "Noble Shepherd". He had religion in his life (albeit Muslim, but still a faith nonetheless). He made mention that he was fighting the motel chains so that they would not step on others as they were trying to do him (and in his own words, he was not one to be silenced) - he was a voice for others). He was soft spoken, continually happy, and very simple but very brilliant.
I was really surprised the way this whole experience had contracted itself and wondered why it was me that had the honor of this man's company. Now some people may think I am naive at this point or that I'm just easily impressed... All I have to say to those people is that you can think what you like but I extend this - what if that man was a "Noble Shepherd". My mind started to quickly work and I just kept coming back to that humble man from Jerusalem many years ago. I know it sounds crazy but my mind and my soul were just calling out that it could have been and that it was highly plausible that it was.
Take it for what it's worth, but to me, I just had a once in a lifetime experience.
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