For Tony
2013 and the last few years have proven to be difficult ones. I have reached a certain point in life where people are just as likely to be dying as they are reproducing. In the last few years, we have had to face quite a bit of death unfortunately. Last week, one lost his battle and didn't make it. He and I barely knew each other, we had had maybe three or four conversations since I first came into the scene sixteen years ago. Tony played in many Cleveland bands such as Sissy, Backmonkeys and, most notably, Starvation Army. I knew his wife before the two of them got together, and when they did, it was a wonderful yet tragic moment.
Without getting into too many details, it was a wonderful meeting of two people who met and fell in love. Although they were both over forty (and I'll be there before I know it as well), they had a baby because neither had given up that it would or could happen for them. A few days after their son was born, Tony found out he had cancer. Over time it was revealed that this was an especially rare form of throat cancer, less than 300 cases a year, very aggressive and there were no FDA approved drugs or treatments for it. He checked himself in for hospice care in late June for pain management and to make him as comfortable as possible. I'm sorry to say that our last communication was through a Facebook IM. I had attempted to come over and help babysit their son so that his wife could run out and run an errand or two, but I had some conflicts. Tony put up a post about how wonderful the staff at the hospice was and how he was well rested and out of pain at the end of June. I did not (nor anyone else) realize that this was his good-bye message. He ended it with "Thank you for all that you have felt and done. You have made my life an amazing gift. And I love you all". I'm glad it was not a post about food or beverage, something silly or obscure, it was a message.
The memorial was held last weekend at Beachland Ballroom in Collinwood. In keeping with the punk rock / rockabilly theme of the venue, I wore jeans and a denim vest with the sleeves ripped off and patches sewn on it. We had an open mic and slideshow presentation of Tony's life and kind words said. I did not do the open mic because, after all, Tony and I did not know each other very well. Instead, like many, I wanted to see his wonderful one year old son toddle around in his overalls and smiling at me when I made silly faces at him. It was in Cyrus that we found such joy and knowing that he had a father who loved him. And we will love him just as much since Tony can't be here to do that.
I will not close this blog with more of those hackneyed expressions like "life is a gift", "we must not waste one moment", etc. even though those sayings are certainly true in this and all other cases similar. We have to look towards the future with hope and knowing that we came together for one of our own, and recognizing that we were brought together over our mutual love of his son Cyrus. Blue skies wherever you are, Tony. It will be hard to carry on without you but we will try.
Without getting into too many details, it was a wonderful meeting of two people who met and fell in love. Although they were both over forty (and I'll be there before I know it as well), they had a baby because neither had given up that it would or could happen for them. A few days after their son was born, Tony found out he had cancer. Over time it was revealed that this was an especially rare form of throat cancer, less than 300 cases a year, very aggressive and there were no FDA approved drugs or treatments for it. He checked himself in for hospice care in late June for pain management and to make him as comfortable as possible. I'm sorry to say that our last communication was through a Facebook IM. I had attempted to come over and help babysit their son so that his wife could run out and run an errand or two, but I had some conflicts. Tony put up a post about how wonderful the staff at the hospice was and how he was well rested and out of pain at the end of June. I did not (nor anyone else) realize that this was his good-bye message. He ended it with "Thank you for all that you have felt and done. You have made my life an amazing gift. And I love you all". I'm glad it was not a post about food or beverage, something silly or obscure, it was a message.
The memorial was held last weekend at Beachland Ballroom in Collinwood. In keeping with the punk rock / rockabilly theme of the venue, I wore jeans and a denim vest with the sleeves ripped off and patches sewn on it. We had an open mic and slideshow presentation of Tony's life and kind words said. I did not do the open mic because, after all, Tony and I did not know each other very well. Instead, like many, I wanted to see his wonderful one year old son toddle around in his overalls and smiling at me when I made silly faces at him. It was in Cyrus that we found such joy and knowing that he had a father who loved him. And we will love him just as much since Tony can't be here to do that.
I will not close this blog with more of those hackneyed expressions like "life is a gift", "we must not waste one moment", etc. even though those sayings are certainly true in this and all other cases similar. We have to look towards the future with hope and knowing that we came together for one of our own, and recognizing that we were brought together over our mutual love of his son Cyrus. Blue skies wherever you are, Tony. It will be hard to carry on without you but we will try.
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