PIRC-Gram 04/08: “He’s Gone”
Sent: Fri 8/03/07 3:32 PM

Hi Folks,

A nice summer day, a bit on the hot side, but rather pleasant under the apple tree. Cousin Sammy and I have been spending some quality time under the apple tree this past summer season. This is the apple tree that Cousin Mike and I spent an entire Friday afternoon under working out some world issues with the help of a few beers. We needed to do some conference calling, so we called Cousin Ernie.

This is the apple tree that Papoo (my dad) planted when he and ya-ya spent that summer with us back in 1977. In fact he planted six in my back yard. Took him a long time as he slowly got around with his cane He also put in a garden that summer season. Said it helped fill in his time. Those trees were his babies. Told me to cover them up for the winter. The harsh winter that followed killed five of those trees, but the one that survived is now 30 yrs old and provides a nice shade on those summer days when it’s too hot to sit in the sun.

So as I reflect under the apple tree with Sammy zonked out on the grass, I remember Uncle Dave calling me to tell me the end was close and to consider coming down to visit. He mentioned that as the emergency crew were wheeling him out of the house for what would be his last trip to the hospital, he somehow reached over to grab what has become that famous family picture of ya-ya, papoo, and their seven children. Took it with him. Perhaps he sensed his time had run out. That picture was his life………We thank Uncle Titus for that picture taken back in 1974. He had a time delay camera that he set up. We all posed in front of the Beach house and Uncle Titus asked someone to tell a joke. Uncle Tim told the joke. Got the picture at the punch line. Maybe it wasn’t a time delay, maybe Uncle Titus had a remote control. In any avant, it has become one of our family classics.

Wish I had acted sooner. Uncle Dave called me to tell me he had died.

It would be a little less than ten years later, Uncle Dave called to tell me that ya-ya wasn’t doing well and slowly fading. Perhaps we should make a visit. We all went down for a visit. Uncle Joe and his entire family went down also. Uncle Titus and Aunt Claire made a couple of visits. Uncle Tim visited and good naturedly offered his all curing wine. Uncle George’s and Aunt Priss’s family were visiting her often. It would be the 89-90 winter that things were looking grim. In the spring of 1990, as I was working in the bowels of the filter building at the mill, word got to me to call home. Somehow I knew as I walked to the central office at the pipe shop. Aunt Nancy gave me the news. I must have said something to someone in the office, and headed back to the worksite. I walked down the long stairs to the pump I had been working on. Sat on the wet floor and proceeded to cry like never before. They must have gotten word out to my foreman to check on me. He arrived, leaned down, put his arm around me and said he knew what it was like to lose a mother. Told me to put my tools away and go take a shower……….Some weeks later, something funny happen with one of the kids, and I remember saying to Nancy that I was going to call my mom; she’d like hearing about it. I picked up the phone and started dialing……….WHAM. No more mom or dad to call; the ones you call first when your children are born, when they make that first step, when they get sick, when they get off to school, when they plan to get married…. They are the ones that really care the most. (Earlier at the funeral, Cousin Deb and I talked about having a family reunion in honor of ya-ya, feeling bad that we didn’t get one in before she died.) I hung up the phone and was now on a mission. Ya- ya passed away in the spring of 1990. No one was ready yet in 1991. We started planning for 1992. As 1991 passed I had heard that Uncle George was sick but didn’t think of it as being too serious until, once again I hear from Uncle Dave. As our planned for 1992 reunion approached, my brother George’s condition was deteriorating and my brother Dave was again pressed into service. He was there and the family once again leaned on him to get them through this difficult time. Family issues being what they were, Uncle George wasn’t planning to come. Uncle Dave explained to him how important it would be for his children to come. He decided to come and remarkably went into a brief remission to be well enough to come. Uncle Tim and Aunt Anne made provisions to take him in for what would be about a week and I was surprised at his acceptance of the invitation. Because of his medical condition, he would fly up and I was expecting my brother Tim to pick him up. I was in for another surprise. I was asked to pick him up. I was very apprehensive. As I mentioned, there were family issues. My brother George and I had many angry words over the years. It would be a 2 1/2 hr drive, but how grateful I am that I did go pick him up. It was the best 2 1/2 hrs. of my life with my brother George. What a poignant moment as he came strutting out of the plane carrying his medical accessories in his hand. We arrived at the Farm, and he strutted into the house like he had never been gone. Wanted to know were the utensils were; he planned to do some cooking. Turned out to be a great visit.

The family in general didn’t have a clue what Aunt Nancy had planned for the main meal of the reunion. We just told everyone where to show up. Aunt Nancy knew what she wanted to do, and all the work and tears that went into the preparation paid off big. The real compliment came unexpectedly from my brother George. He called me aside and said to me: “UNO CLASSA!”.

The reunion ended a two week vacation and I was off to work Monday, the day Uncle Tim would drive him back to the airport. I regretted not taking off that one more day as they came by the house on the way to the airport. My brother George wanted to say goodby. Nancy told me that he said he wouldn’t see me again. I didn’t want to believe that. But once again I got that phone call from my brother Dave. Even though I was being kept well posted, there was something about the timing of the call. I reluctantly picked up the phone and in a low somber voice: “he’s gone”. To this day, 14 years later, I have a little trouble when I think if those two little words. I’m now 64, the same age he was when he passed. Young by today’s standards. He loved his children and his wife, and at the bottom of his tombstone are the words written: “We Love You Dad”. He went down like a champ.

Folks, have you ever noticed that no matter how many loads of laundry you do, there is still some laundry lurking in some odd place to do? Come next July (2008) it’ll be time to turn off the washer, kick aside that laundry, and come to our PIRC 0-2008 Reunion in New England to celebrate our lives as the Plomaritis-Mantis-Varkas family.

Your loving uncle, brother, nephew and dad, Uncle Tony