A fellow team member and GE Proud member requested a short
meeting with me a while back. That
meeting took place today. Although I was
somewhat curious as to why he asked for the time, my curiosity was outweighed
by my busy-ness. As we sat in the conference
room this afternoon, he proceeded to tell me that after 37 years, he was being
let go – his position was eliminated. I
immediately felt awful and expressed my sadness to him along with my sincere
offer to help him in any way that I could.
To my surprise, he didn’t want to talk at all about himself; he wanted
to thank me and commend me for the work I’ve done in making GE Proud a reality as
well as last year’s GE participation in Pridefest. He wanted to reassure me that I’m doing good
work and that change is taking place and that I should continue. Being around my own age, he reminded me that in
“our day” such things would never have even been thought about in the
workplace. He also reminded me that back
in January when his long-time partner passed away, his supervisor told him to
expect to have the same bereavement that a legal spouse would have. Trying to fight back the tears, I kept trying
to bring the conversation back to him and his situation, but he kept bringing
it back to me and GE Proud and change.
How touching his unselfishness and his hopefulness was! I’m still brought to tears when I think about
the conversation. I will miss him.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Last Christmas Tree
Nov. 21,
2012
My uncle “Chubbs” or “Snoopy” as many knew him, was the only
real father I ever knew. December 15,
2012 will be 10 years since he passed away from Pancreatic Cancer at the age of
64. During the weeks and months
preceding his death, though tragic, there were many things for which I was grateful. Perhaps most of all, I was grateful for the
opportunity to be present and be there for him as he was dying – to be able to
give back for the many things he had given me, for the knowledge and wisdom he
imparted on me, and for the values he instilled in me. I will always be grateful for these things –
so many of which shaped me into the person I am today.
I remember after Thanksgiving that year, 2002, we had
planned to go together and get the Christmas tree me, my sister, my aunt and Chubbs. It had been years since my aunt and uncle had
gone through a lot of trouble with a Christmas tree. Most years, if they put a tree up at all, it
was a 4ft pre-decorated, artificial one.
But this year, this year was special and time was of the essence. Everyone including Chubbs knew this would be
his last and so we wanted to go all out.
The day we were to go get the tree, Chubbs was too sick and
weak to go. Upon his urging, we went without him and
picked out a beautiful 6+ foot tall tree – a spruce, as that was his
favorite. We brought it home and got it
into the stand as quickly as possible.
In the back of all of our minds the question of when we would lose him
circled around and around. Would he
still be with us at Christmas? “No” I
thought, “He won’t” and I shuddered at the thought. But he was so sick. He was so weak and he looked so bad. Thanksgiving was an event for him and it took
so much out of him even as he tried to pretend it hadn’t.
We began digging through the boxes of lights and ornaments
that hadn’t been opened in years. We took a walk down Memory Lane and discovered things that had been long forgotten. We reminisced about Christmases
past the whole time we were decorating.
We all laughed and talked and for a short while, the elephant in the room
disappeared. Chubbs sat in his chair the
whole time digging through the boxes and handing us the ornaments to put on the
tree. The whole time Frank Sinatra’s
Christmas music was playing in the background.
We laughed, too, as we put the annoying musical bells he loved (and
everyone else hated) so much on the front door.
In the face of something so devastating, we managed to find a small
window of joy.
When we finished the tree, Chubbs sat back and said, “I
think that’s the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen.” Silence
and tears ensued. Ten years later, I can
still hear those words coming from his mouth – in his voice. I still cry because it was such a beautiful moment. I know he said that to make us
feel good and to express the beauty, not only of the tree, but of the experience
that we had just shared together.
Chubbs did not make it to Christmas. He died December 15 at home as he wanted
to. As me and my Aunt Jude watched him
take his last breath, there was something almost magical about it - a lightness
from finally being released from the pain.
I am grateful to have known him.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)