Well we did get through the horror of Christmas, but not without some drama. Over the past several years the Pagano's spend Christmas eve at my sister Jean's house. Typically we've prepared the Italian favorites like the Spaghetti with White Clam Sauce, Baked Stuffed Shrimp, Seafood Casserole, and many other fishy delicacies. Interestingly, it would seem now, that many of these dishes were prepared for Jimmy. He had his favorites, and we were all ready and willing to indulge, but now, it is simply hors d'oeuvres, as if the rest of us didn't also delight in the menu.
This year we went through the motions of the holiday. Jean did a nice job with the appetizers, but as always we had the elephant in the room. It was painfully quiet and reserved. By 7:30 the kids had opened their presents, and we had eaten the scallops and bacon, stuffed quahogs, snail salad, and pizza. Dad was asleep on the couch, the kids were playing video games, and the rest of us were staring at each other. I couldn't take it anymore. A game of Taboo finally saved all of us.
Christmas dinner, as usual, is mom, dad, me, Uncle Mac and his Diane. My son, Macke, and I sleep at Mom's on Christmas eve...Santa comes there. Macke's dad, Kenny, comes over in the morning to open gifts, and then leaves with him to see his family. Somehow, sometime on Christmas morning Mom decided to lay into me about something. Something silly and totally uncalled for when you consider it is a holiday, and we are all suffering great loss on this day. I am there at her house most often, and complaints and overall misery are typically bestowed on me. I understand she is sad, but it comes out in anger and hostility. Negativity. Directed towards me, as if what happened that horrific day is my fault. This is a concept that will be revisited at a later time...much too juicy to leave behind.
Dinner was stressful and quiet. In fact it was downright uncomfortable for our guests as I would hear later. Mom is angry, and she has a right to be. Her son was murdered, and he is not with us on Christmas. He is not with his children or his wife. Or his sisters. She needs to vent, and it can't be to dad. He is suffering too. She won't see a shrink...she doesn't see the point. No, it's easier to just unload on me. I understand but can't allow her to drag me down. I'll just stay away for a while.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
A Mother's Holiday Moment
Mom called me at work today, completely out of sorts. She is going through the usual motions of the holiday--shopping, wrapping, cooking, all while caring for grandchildren left in her care while their parents are at work. Ordinarily this is all good, as it keeps her busy and distracts her from thinking about the elephant in the room. Except today, she was stricken with grief and sadness, and while on the phone she broke down in tears. She explained that it was hard for her to see other families in tact enjoing the holiday. Ours is broken. That is our reality.
Mom held Jim while he was dying in her arms at the base of the driveway where he finally fell to the ground. She and Dad were trying to save him while the gunman stood over them pointing a gun at Jim. He said "you're all done, Jimmy". This was the last time they saw their son alive.
Mom held Jim while he was dying in her arms at the base of the driveway where he finally fell to the ground. She and Dad were trying to save him while the gunman stood over them pointing a gun at Jim. He said "you're all done, Jimmy". This was the last time they saw their son alive.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Peace and Joy in New York at Christmas
Mom, my sister Jean, Dri (Jim's wife) and I took our kids to New York City this past weekend to get ourselves into the holiday spirit and out of the holiday melancholia...the huge Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, the store window displays, the indoor ferris wheel at Toys R Us, and of course, M & M World. The fact that we endured a blizzard, crowds, mood swings and the usual logistics issues associated with herding small children throughout this city had no real bearing on the task at hand--HOLIDAY SPIRIT, for God's sake!
I would say it was a great idea, but that is because I love New York. My son, Macke who is 6 years old, enjoyed it as well, although he evaluates the experience based on modes of transportation more than anything. Give him a train, cab, and subway ride, and he is fine. The rest of the group will most likely never set foot in that town again. Too much stress, not enough return on investment.
Throughout the weekend I found myself glancing over at Jim's kids, Adri and Louie. I deperately sought to see peace and joy on their faces in the spirit of the season rise above what was obviously missing from their lives...their dad at Christmas. Mom Dad, Jean and I were lucky to have Jim for decades, although the pain of his absence is excrutiating, but his children had only a few. They have been cheated out of a future of Merry Christmases with their Santa Claus. And they will live with the lasting guilt on some level for prompting Jim to make the fatal mistake of confronting the neighbor. I will always try to create peace and joy for my neice and nephew in the face of the unspeakable evil that will forever be entrenched in their memory.
I would say it was a great idea, but that is because I love New York. My son, Macke who is 6 years old, enjoyed it as well, although he evaluates the experience based on modes of transportation more than anything. Give him a train, cab, and subway ride, and he is fine. The rest of the group will most likely never set foot in that town again. Too much stress, not enough return on investment.
Throughout the weekend I found myself glancing over at Jim's kids, Adri and Louie. I deperately sought to see peace and joy on their faces in the spirit of the season rise above what was obviously missing from their lives...their dad at Christmas. Mom Dad, Jean and I were lucky to have Jim for decades, although the pain of his absence is excrutiating, but his children had only a few. They have been cheated out of a future of Merry Christmases with their Santa Claus. And they will live with the lasting guilt on some level for prompting Jim to make the fatal mistake of confronting the neighbor. I will always try to create peace and joy for my neice and nephew in the face of the unspeakable evil that will forever be entrenched in their memory.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Unshared Feelings of Grief
My mom suggested that I attend the local church's special tree decorating ceremony in memory of family members who have passed on... of Jim. It is my parents' way of allowing their Catholic faith to comfort them. She didn't just "invite" me, she also mentioned it to my sister, Jean, and my sister in law, Dri (Jim's wife), her now remaining children. She explained that each family would have the opportunity to place a handmade ornament on the tree once the name of the deceased was read aloud by the local news anchor at the pulpit. There would be a children's bell choir and a chorus to sing holiday hymns, and in her mind it sounded like a lovely evening of rememberance. Mom went on to mention that she did not want for each of us to feel obligated, but we all know the golden rule-- if we don't oblige mom we will indeed feel guilty. It's not her fault. We are of Italian descent.
When she brought it up, I didn't share her love of the idea. In fact, I was speechless at the thought of joining a group of individuals who are also devastated by the loss of a loved one. I could not think of anything more depressing than commiserating over death and the depth of sadness in the midst of an already heartbreaking holiday season. I wanted no part of it. But I went. And so did Jean and Dri. It was painful as I thought it would be, and messed me up for the entire next day.
In the case of a family in grief, each individual feels a different form of it and always at a different time. There is sadness, depression, anger, guilt, withdrawal, shock, denial, etc., etc. And so therein poses the dilemma of the dysfunctional dynamic of a former closeknit family exposed to the layers of pain associated with death, murder, and oh let's not forget, witnessing the crime.
Yes, witness. My family, each member, watched the next door neighbor chase Jimmy down the driveway unloading bullets at him while he ran for his life. It was Jim's son, Louie's, 9th birthday party, and we were all outside that day. We watched Louie's daddy fall to the ground. Louie watched his daddy fall to the ground. At his birthday party.
When she brought it up, I didn't share her love of the idea. In fact, I was speechless at the thought of joining a group of individuals who are also devastated by the loss of a loved one. I could not think of anything more depressing than commiserating over death and the depth of sadness in the midst of an already heartbreaking holiday season. I wanted no part of it. But I went. And so did Jean and Dri. It was painful as I thought it would be, and messed me up for the entire next day.
In the case of a family in grief, each individual feels a different form of it and always at a different time. There is sadness, depression, anger, guilt, withdrawal, shock, denial, etc., etc. And so therein poses the dilemma of the dysfunctional dynamic of a former closeknit family exposed to the layers of pain associated with death, murder, and oh let's not forget, witnessing the crime.
Yes, witness. My family, each member, watched the next door neighbor chase Jimmy down the driveway unloading bullets at him while he ran for his life. It was Jim's son, Louie's, 9th birthday party, and we were all outside that day. We watched Louie's daddy fall to the ground. Louie watched his daddy fall to the ground. At his birthday party.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Holiday Musings
Next week is Christmas, the second without Jim. People say that time eases the pain of loss but in reality, nothing eases the grief of a missing part of a whole--the pulse of a family heartbeat gone. Yes, we go through the motions of everyday life, seek out and appreciate the blessings we are given, find the joy in our children, and move forward in the spirit of Jim's will, but there will always be the constant reminders of good times and laughter yet to be shared, family memories yet to be cherished, and a certain hope for the future never to be realized. The holidays seem to only emphasize the loss, even more so this year because the state of shock was on our side last year.
On May 18, 2008, my brother Jim, Lt. James A. Pagano of the Cranston Fire Department, in fact, was shot to death by his next door neighbor in a lovely cul-de-sac named Daisy Court. When Jimmy told me he was moving his family to Daisy Court in 2001, I said, "Jim, it sounds like a street of complete happiness. You, Dri (his wife), and the kids will be so happy there!" Can you imagine a brutal murder on a street named Daisy Court?
On May 18, 2008, my brother Jim, Lt. James A. Pagano of the Cranston Fire Department, in fact, was shot to death by his next door neighbor in a lovely cul-de-sac named Daisy Court. When Jimmy told me he was moving his family to Daisy Court in 2001, I said, "Jim, it sounds like a street of complete happiness. You, Dri (his wife), and the kids will be so happy there!" Can you imagine a brutal murder on a street named Daisy Court?
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