TIME-TO-SEE-26
Fall was fading fast and winter had nearly arrived. A chronic cold, rainy, drizzly pall hung over our short days, just as a chill hung over our little family huddling together sharing Nicky's loss.
Lloyd had died on Wednesday. Hugo and I decided that on the Sunday following there would be a simple, grave-side service: yes, to say good-by to Lloyd, but also to demonstrate to Nicky how much caring there was for him in his grief.
One afternoon at the end of that week- it was Thursday or Friday; I've forgotten which- Nicky and I were alone together.
"Kevin, do I have to go?" Nicky asked me, seeming really to be in need of the answer.
"Well, I guess you don't HAVE to," I answered. "But people will want to be there to say good-by to your dad, and show that they thought your dad was a good person and that they really care about and love YOU, and that now they want to help you... "
And I also said, "And they want to be with you to help you say good-by to your dad."
There was a very long pause...
"But I already told him, good-by," Nicky said.
"Yes. You did," I agreed. Then I was silent.
The boy was always so simple, innocent, and truthful.
Right up until that very weekend I wasn't sure whether Nicky would even attend the service. But late on Saturday afternoon, he came to me as I sat in the kitchen sipping some hot tea and said:
"Kevin, I think I want to go to the funeral for dad."
"Good, Nick. I'm glad. I think that later, you'll be glad that you did."
Nicky went on speaking with me, "I think he deserves to have me show other people that I don't think he's bad or somethin because he was a alcoholic. I want em all to know that I loved him, and I still love him, and I'm sorry he couldn't live longer."
"Yes, Nicky," I said, "That's exactly what you should say to everybody. That's what a really good son would do too."
Our conversation paused for a moment while Nicky was thinking.
"Do you think I'm a man yet, Kevin?" Nicky asked, looking directly into my eyes.
"I think you are right at the doorway of manhood, Nicky. And you're showing me that you have everything needed to be a very smart, secure, and kind man, when you have finished learning all that you can from the good people you are certain to meet in the days ahead... Learning how to feel and accept the loss of your dad, the way you are doing, takes a real man to handle."
I said, "So, I'd say, you took a giant step into that doorway this week, I'd say you're nearly there, Nick..."
He looked at me but didn't say anything. He sat down in the booth and slid over until he was leaning right up against me; then he leaned his head over on my shoulder and said, "Would you give me a hug?"
"Only one?" I replied. And I embraced him giving him a kiss on the head, in the middle of his mop of fiery red hair. "If this weren't the greatest and most loveable kid on the planet... (Well, right there along with Jilder...," I thought.)
The lingering drizzle finally let up about forty-five minutes before eleven that morning, the hour Lloyd's service was to begin.
People sat in folding chairs under a large white awning erected over the open grave; cemetery workers had to bring in more chairs just a short time before the service began, as some people were still arriving at the last minute. Lloyd's casket was positioned just under the awning and above the open grave itself, and Nicky sat in the center of the front row of chairs, right in front of the grave, between me and Hugo. Jilder sat next to Hugo on the end.
A conspicuous abundance of the most gorgeous flowers were arrayed all around the white and gold casket, just overflowing from the space under the awning out onto the surrounding hillside. It was a remarkable display of caring for this father and son, our Nicky.
Most of the people were Nicky's friends; only a few, like Mrs. Munoz, the upstairs neighbor, and another neighborhood man, actually knew the deceased. We simply couldn't locate family members on such short notice.
The Emergency Room physician and his wife; Dr. Gilmer, Nicky's surgeon, and his wife; both nurses from the Seventh Floor ward of Children's Hospital and their husbands; Jake Vaio, my nurse; the two EMT technicians; Howard and his wife; and numerous friends and the minister who would officiate, from the church I attended, were present.
I was over-whelmed by the response of everyone who knew Nicky and our little family.
Soft music played from speakers placed discretely among the flowers, and the music director from our church made sure that we had his personal copy of the recording Adagio for Strings.
After it appeared that all of the mourners were present, our minster began speaking to the gathering, reminding everyone of the traditional Christian view of this moment in life. He spoke kindly and with caring about Lloyd, not mentioning anything specific. Then he held out his arms to Nicky and spoke again to the whole group:
"Lloyd's son, Nicky, told me that he would like to say a few words about his father." And he motioned to Nicky to stand up and accompany him there next to the grave.
No one had spoken to Nicky about what he would do or say to the gathering. The kid was on his own, no preparation, just speaking from the heart, and he began:
"I wanted to tell everybody that I am very sad that my dad had to die. I didn't want him to die. I loved him, and I still love him. (He lost it for a moment.... but eventually he sucked it up and continued.)... "But nobody asked me if it was okay...." He went on...
"Everybody knows dad was a alcoholic. But I want you to know that he was a good alcoholic. He didn't ever hurt me, and when I was really, really sick, he called the ambulance for me. He just couldn't stop drinking, even though I tried to help him. And he tried to stop by himself sometimes too."
"I want everybody to know that I ain't mad at him for bein a alcoholic. He was a good person. He just couldn't help it.... (Nicky paused for a moment, just to be sure he'd covered everything...) And I want you to know that he's still a really good person, and I love him, and....." (He lost it!)
After a few moments, Nicky began speaking again: "I told him good-by already in the Emergency Room; so's it ain't necessary for me to tell him again, because he knows I said good-by already."
Jilder jumped up and ran over and hugged his brother. Hugo and I rose and joined the boys, sheltering them both with our joint embrace. "Somehow, our little family MUST survive our loss," I hoped. "And please, God, we need help.... Please help us..." I added.
NOTE: Adagio for Strings is the String Quartet, Op. 11, composed by American composer Samuel Barber (born March 9, 1910) in 1936 and broadcast and recorded by Arturo Toscanini in New York radio studio 8H for the first time November 5, 1938. It was played live on the radio to commemorate the passing of President Franklin Roosevelt, April 12, 1945. Samuel Barber composed the piece when he spent a summer in Europe with his partner, Gian Carlo Menotti, a fellow composer with whom he maintained "an intimate relationship". Adagio is "full of pathos and cathartic passion" as Alexander J. Morin described, and it was used in the soundtrack of the 1986 Hollywood movie, Platoon. Barber is a major American orchestral composer and performing talent on both piano, and organ.