I have recently had some more interesting conversations with my Dad. We got on the subject of his Brother Bob. I wrote about some of my Dad's memories in Depression Babies One and Two. His adolescent self and his oldest brother Bob are particularly mentioned in Two. Somehow my Pop and I got on the subject of airplanes and he reminisced;
Bob had died. He was very young 29. His whole life he had been sickly and lived with an enlarged heart. He battled heart disease most of his twenties and succumbed in 1953. Bob was living with his girlfriend in Florida. My mother was devastated and I was asked to retrieve the body down in Florida. At this time none of my other brothers were talking to Bob. I can't say they were totally wrong. At one time or another Bob had crossed, failed to pay back, or stolen from each member in my family. No one trusted him, nor was he very well liked. But to me, family was family. No matter the transgression I always let it pass. You knew how Bob was so you just accepted him and not allow yourself to be put in a position for him to use you. He however would still manage to really get at you even with your guard up. This was probably why he lived in Florida away from us in Jersey.
My Mother bought the tickets for the plane. It was a prop plane. This was the fastest transportation at the time. A train ride would take too long to Florida. It was a four to five hour ride and I remember landing in West Palm Beach. Landing was actually strange for me. I was a paratrooper in the 82nd. I had jumped 36 times and never actually physically landed in a plane.
I went to the funeral par-lour. There I met Bob's girlfriend. She was blonde and I couldn't decide if she was attractive. She probably was but at the time she was devastated over my brother's death. There were several days of we viewing in Florida. Bob's girlfriend asked if she could make the trip back to Jersey City with me. What was I to say? This woman was obviously grieving and I was not in the position to say no.
I remember the ride to the plane. The loading of the body on the plane and boarding with Bob's girlfriend. Everything was a blur the next couple of days. Again there was a viewing in Jersey City. My mother was mad that Bob's girlfriend had flown back with me. I should have known that was going to happen but I was unprepared when she asked. When she first saw his body she went into shock and screamed for him to wake up. My brother's by now had all changed their attitudes. One brother flung himself on the coffin crying dramatically. I let all that stuff go. A week before they would cross the street to avoid Bob. Death is the leveler, the ultimate motivator for forgiveness.
It felt like I was mourning for an eternity. Between the plane ride, both viewings and the gamut of emotions that I had undergone, I was spent. I was ready to be finished. However, I remember the last viewing and my last goodbye to Bob before he was interned. I walked away. Vividly I remember that the grass was green, the sky was blue, and people and life did not stop. Simply, Life goes on. That was very comforting and often this feeling is the one I draw upon to remember this time in my life. A coping mechanism? A tool to allow myself to deal with a sad time in my life? I believe it is sound reasoning. Still today people die and life continues.