I remember when I was very young, I hated goodbyes. If someone I really cared about was leaving home, or getting married, or going off to college, I would lock myself in the "little bathroom" in my parents' house until that person was gone. I am sure one of the reasons was that I didn't want people to see me cry. Being a kid who cried a lot, it almost became a joke....uh oh, Leslie is crying again...I know, too, that my heart hurt to the point of feeling sick, and I didn't know exactly how to make it feel better. Whatever the reason I locked myself away, eventually I saw that person again, and all was well.
A few years back, I lost my Dad to Parkinson's Disease. That was a horribly sad time. Little by little, over a few years, we watched him slowly slip away. When he finally passed, it was almost (almost) a relief. No more suffering, no more pain...but oh, how my heart hurt!
This past week, I received some news that shocked me and still feels like I am dreaming and can't wake up. The phone rang, and my mom told me that my brother Gregg was gone. No warning. No time to prepare. No place to hide and cry. My heart still hurts so much at the thought of him being gone. I just spent Christmas in New York with my family and Gregg came around more than he usually did in the past when I visited. We had lots of laughs, some tears, and reminisced about lots of things. It was a really great visit with him. It was plain to see that life had been hard for Gregg. Yes, he didn't always make the best choices, and yes, many of the difficulties he faced were because of those choices, no doubt. But setting all of that aside, I couldn't help but to love that guy. He had the ability to make you mad and then laugh hysterically within the same sentence. So many memories...now all just memories...
Memories are funny...sometimes we remember things because we were there...and sometimes, we have heard about things so often, that we just think we were there. Either way, I think my earliest memory of Gregg would have to be when I was probably 8 or 9 years old...which would have made him 17 or 18. I can't remember who else would have been there (except for my little sister Jenny - she is in almost all of my childhood memories!). We were in the living room and mom had a scratchy, stretchy blue crocheted blanket. Gregg would put us in the blanket like a cocoon and swing us in it. I remember him telling me if I didn't stop laughing he was going to throw me in the bushes...I would laugh even more.
Gregg loved making us laugh...the harder the better. I was an easy target. Dinnertime was at 5pm every night during the week. Jen and I would set the table, plates, forks, knives, tea cups for mom and dad in the winter, ice tea glasses in the hot summer months. When the food was ready, we all sat together. "Gregg, put a shirt on" was often heard in the summer, as Gregg would always be outside doing something without a shirt. Dad would say grace and we would all close our eyes...well, all but Gregg who would open just one....and knowing I would be easy prey, he would stare right at me during the prayer. I remember thinking, "don't open your eyes, Leslie...don't open your eyes"...but the temptation was too much and I just had to see. Of course, as expected, Gregg was waiting, staring at me with that one eye open making the craziest face. I would laugh right in the middle of grace, and then Mom would ask if I wanted to be excused from the table. Well, no, I really didn't, because that meant Gregg would get my portion, too...which, now that I think of it, was probably Gregg's master plan all along! haha
Gregg had the knack for making up the funniest stuff...he would often recite his memorized book titles. "Antlers in the Treetops" by Whogoosed the Moose is the only one I can remember right now. One of my other sisters had a friend named Elise Hyde....I remember him saying "Elise Hyde! The cow's outside!". He could be crude, like any teenage boy can be....and he did some pretty gross things. Trapping farts (sorry mom!) in a glass was one of the grossest. Of course, he didn't tell us that is what was in the glass...he would just say, "smell this" or "does this glass smell weird to you?" and like a little mouse, I walked right in to the trap. Then he would say, in his best Italian accent, "Fuchi que pesta...my eyes are burning!" Gregg loved to prove how strong he was. And honestly, he was really, really strong. Right down to his toes. He use to tell me he would give me a quarter if I could bend his big toe back. I would push and push with all my might, but that toe was made of steel. Never did win that quarter!
I was always the scaredy-cat of all the little sisters. I wanted to do all the stuff that Jenny did, but usually didn't have the guts. Every once in a while, I would muster some courage, and hop on the back of the motorcycle with Gregg. He would tell me, "Hold on, and lean when I lean, or else we will wipe out"...not really what a scaredy-cat wants to hear. So, you better believe that I held on for dear life, and I made sure to lean at just the right time, in the right direction. I would cry because he went too fast...but then when he would let me off at home, I would want to go again. Winters were the best because he and Steve always has snowmobiles around. I remember him pulling us so fast through the trails in the woods on a sled that was tied to his snowmobile. Every ride was terrifying and exhilarating, all at once. He was a lot of fun, and he never seemed to complain that we were always around, begging him to do stuff.
Our home was on the smaller side...4 bedrooms and 1 1/2 baths...with ten people at once. You would think with 6 girls, we would have been the ones monopolizing the bathroom with the shower. Of course, we probably would have, if Gregg would have gotten out of there! He would take 30 minute showers and sing while he was in there. Our plumbing had some kind of cross connection, so if you flushed the toilet in the little bathroom (half bath), it would make the hot water in the shower go cold. Gregg would bang on the shower wall when that happened! I think sometimes, people flushed it just to get him out of the shower! ha!
When I was in High school, I remember a certain birthday. Mom made baked ziti for dinner (my favorite!) and she baked a cake. Gregg came in right in time for dinner. He brought me a present...three Billy Joel cassette tapes! Even though he used the aluminum foil from the pasta (which still has mozzarella cheese on it!) as wrapping paper, I remember thinking that was the best gift!! He was always full of surprises.
Gregg was rarely serious when he was younger, but that never stopped us from knowing he loved us. He never lost that sense of humor. Even as an adult, when life and choices made things hard for him, he would always say something to make us laugh. I think the only time I ever saw him cry as when Dad died. It hit him really hard.
So, I am here trying to process this final goodbye. One that I am really not ready to make. He is the first of my siblings to go. It is all very surreal. My heart breaks for my Mom who shouldn't have to bury her son. My heart breaks for my older brothers and sisters who spent their childhood with Gregg and knew him much differently than I did. And my heart breaks for my little sister, who was his favorite, for sure, if he had to choose one. I still hate goodbyes. Especially when they are the kind of goodbye that doesn't have a clear end in sight. So, I will just say, goodbye, for now, Gregg. I love you and I will miss you, I will forever hold in my heart all of the fun times, all of the laughter, and all of the love.
