Hey JaJa,
It pains me to be writing this, because it means you are no longer with us. Being away at school these past few years I didn’t get to see you often, and I’d do anything to get a couple more hours with you, as I’m sure we all would. With my being away, and the progression of your Alzheimer’s, I was never able to tell you how much you meant to me, and I deeply regret this. So, I’m going to try and do that here. When I got home last week, we knew the end was near, our family spent a good deal of time reminiscing and recounting our favorite stories that included you. During this time, I realized just how big of an impact you were on my life, and the person I have become.
The first thing I noticed when I went to visit you this past week was the quilt that was covering you. It was a quilt Auntie had made for you from some of your t-shirts. Man, did Auntie ever do the perfect job of capturing your personality with that quilt. Besides the few Detroit Tigers or Red Wings shirts, every other shirt had something to do with our family. You were the quintessential family man, putting every one of us before yourself. This was evident to everyone around you, as it is noted in various people’s Facebook posts in addition to your obituary. However, the things I specifically remember are your insistence on always paying for meals when our families went out to dinner. Or on road trips, you’d always pay for the gas. Brent, Max, Mary Kate, Libby, and I could always count on you to be in the stands at our sporting events, as you were always our number one fan. You spent countless hours trying to get the hot new product for us, whether it was a Tickle Me Elmo or an Xbox 360 for Max and Brent. However, the way you most often showed how much family meant to you was through the innumerable lessons you have given to us.
Looking back now, I do not know how I would have made it to the place I am at now without the wisdom you have shared with me. First, the way you raised your kids has had a profound effect on me, whether you know it or not. See, my dad has been a great father to my sister and I, and has made sure to pass on a lot of the wisdom you have given him. First and foremost, you have always preached the importance of doing well in school, and it has become a key importance to me. I first started hearing about this through my dad, but as the Alzheimer’s progressed and your memory faded, I learned more about it from you. When you and Nonna were selling your house, I would cut your grass every week and you would always come to pay me (a generous amount) for the task and we’d talk. This must have been right before I went off to college or after my freshman year, because we always talked about school. In fact, you told me about your college story, and the importance of school nearly every week. I credit a large part of my success to these conversations, because whenever I feel burnt out, unmotivated, or tired of studying, I can hear you saying the moral of the story “short term sacrifice, long term gain.” I love this saying, and have taken it to be my motto. It pushes me to become a better person in addition to helping me set myself up for a bright future. I will continue to use this to drive me on my journey to becoming a doctor, a journey which I desperately wish you were traveling with me.
There are so many other lessons you have given to me; my cousins, your kids, and anyone else close to you, which have made us better people. Through your treatment of Nonna, I have learned how to be a gentleman and treat a lady. I’ve never seen someone care for a person as much as you cared for Nonna. When I was growing up, I could always count on you to be at my sporting events as well as give me some advice as how to play better. You taught me how to play sports with the utmost sportsmanship as well as with my mind. Actually, using my mind not just in sports but in the rest of my life is something I can attribute to you and my dad, as you both have drilled working smarter, not harder into me. Ultimately, there are many more ways in which you have had a positive impact on me, and I will never forget the wisdom you gave to me in these past 21 years. Rest in peace, JaJa.
