First off I want to thank all of you for coming today. We really appreciate it. I wish it was under better circumstances, but alas, here we are. I just wanted to share some thoughts I had over the last 12 months as we watched him battle and fight the good fight.
#1
As I was default babysitter, I was default “rig the car to work mechanic”. I cannot even say how many winter nights I held the flash light for him. I was like, “should you be smoking near the gas tank?....Bobby, for Christ’s sake….just hold the damn light…” So I did my job. We’d rig another fix so Mom could get to work. A few weeks would go by and I would forget about it. Typically I had practice and never thought much about it. Until his night shift would end and he would drive by the bus stop in the Caprice Classic, roll the window down in his work clothes and ask me (soph or jr), do you and your friends want a ride to school in this hot rod? I would just say….”dad. Just go home…” ….and he’d laugh….a devilish laugh.
#2
My dad would drive signs for Alto. I really never had an idea when…but we did two trips. One to Chicago and one to Cinci. They were always done at night. Very dark. I can talk to the Chicago trip. We would be on the road in pure darkness. Can I tell you that being with your dad in a car for 3-4 days is a lot? I was like 12-13. I had just seen Eight Men Out, about Shoeless Joe Jackson and the 1919 White Sox. I was so in awe of ChiTown. So we drove to Chicago. We stopped at every McDonalds to get cheeseburgers. George Harrison’s “I got my mind set on you” played every 100 miles. We got to Wrigley to see A League of their Own being filmed. So on the south side of Chicago, we get to Comiskey Park, built in 1910. They were demolishing it with a wrecking ball. These were the days before the internet, so Philly folks getting news out of Chicago wasn’t happening. I was so sad. I had my hands on the fencing. Bricks of the old park, still with paint on them, scattered everywhere. He said, “reach your hand under and grab one….” So, I did. Sirens go blasting….he says, “well, here they come for you….” I was about to shit my pants….but it had nothing to do with me. That brick and the upper facade piece……are still one of my prized possessions today. George Harrison’s song….always brings me back to that time.
#3
We can start back at Upland Street. It’s funny, cause it was my Uncle Joe (Kenney), who really asked me the $64,000 question. He said, “Do any of your sisters even know about Upland Street or Lansdowne?” I looked at him and was like, “No, I don’t know…I was like 4-5.” My memories of Upland Street aren’t that vivid, but I do know I was surrounded by family, a caged in yard to ride my big wheel and my first friend “Boo” which my Mom always asked me if I remembered him.
When we got to Folcroft, it was great. Lots of food, movies day and night, cheese and crackers, Lou’s Pizza, Christmas gifts galore, no issues. And then, my four roommates showed up. A nice spacious house, became a house with very clear boundaries. Lisa, Chrissy, Stacey, Kathy. I say it that way for a certain reason to which I cannot divulge. Things got tough. I ate a lot less, I did more wash, got less presents. I became an expert at wash, folding women’s clothes, and the default built-in baby-sitter. Watching 4 young girls when you’re 10 is not easy. I was always jealous of my Fehrle cousins….cause the dynamic, well, it’s as clear as Adam and Eve. I’m convinced child labor laws didn’t exist in the 80’s. I did my best. 1,000lbs of cheesebread, 2,000 hours of Wizard of Oz, may have locked them in their room to just hang out and I really learned what it meant to be a guardian, but also learning to care, love, and be there for my family. A trait that has never left me. Today I realize my mom and dad were also proud I could be that person.
My bedroom got a key-lock, a peep-hole to see who was knocking, a lock box for my private stuff and really, I was kinda like in a hostel with this “new” family. What I realized later in life, after the 100 calls to Super Fresh from one of the girls saying “Bobby is being mean”...or the time Lisa grabbed a serrated knife and said “I will kill you”, is that, tribes only grow from constant interaction. Even if it’s forced. My cousin Jason and I say that more and more as we both age but also live alone. Community is everything…even your community of siblings. My dad comes from a big family. Our big family at 988 was always special…even if I became a rumor or some mythical creature who was rarely seen. Some of my sister’s friends would meet me later in life and be like, “Wow, never knew they even had a brother…” Later in life, many people would realize I grew up with so many sisters and look at me like I was a POW. I never looked at it like that. Ever.
I bring all this up….cause the last years since my Mom moved on…I could see that the only thing that would heal my father was family and friends. It’s like you don’t realize how much you appreciate the “struggle of life” until there is no more struggle. That constant busy life at 988 had moved on to other places. Something that happens to all families. We would have Folcroft Pizza parties at 988 but we always longed for more. Of course we wanted my mom. It was hard to not hear her laugh or feel her love close by. We just couldn’t replace her. She was the GOAT. I felt really bad for my dad. I watched him thrive on visitors, but I watched him long for the 988 he knew for so long. My mom, dinner at the table, cheese hoagies for two, her Chinese food order with double shrimp and him getting on her for making a gallon of coffee and drinking 2 cups, and the daily “Bob, where is my….?” it hurt me to know I couldn’t give that to him. Privately I would bring up my Mom, but it was just too hard for him to discuss.
All I can say is that this ride, this roller coaster of life…..it’s way more enjoyable and surprising with a group of riders. I have been so lucky to realize that since our Thanksgivings at Saybrook. Cherish those closest to you. Most of you obviously know how my mom passed away…..cherish every god damn moment you can with your loved ones. I say that now as a man who will forever be Bob and Patti’s first born and only son. Something I take pride in every single day. Two crazy hard working kids who shacked up, made me, raised me, and contributed to my growth as a man and as a human being. Their passion for their family is a passion I will always have.
One day you wake up and you can’t call them, you can’t hug them, you can’t do anything. It is a feeling I don’t wish on my worst enemy. Time is the richest commodity.
Eventually all of our trains pull into that last station. Try and do everything you can, while you can with your people. If that means saying sorry, do it. If that means accepting an apology, accept it. If that means changing, change. Even if it’s a call, a text, a quick visit. It will help you as much as it does them.
Dad, the 988 train was one helluva force to be reckoned with. And I’m grateful I got to be a passenger on a train laying its own tracks. We may have not known our destination, but we enjoyed the ride. I’m sure all four of the girls wanted to toss me on the tracks a few times, but thank God you put that lock on my door.
Looking directly at me, one of the last things you said to me was ”we sure have been on a long road together. Sometimes it was bumpy, but I’m still your friend right? You’re my first born and my only son…” When you said that, I closed my hands and sat in silence for a second. Part of me felt you had come to a place of peace. Yup dad. I’m still your friend and I’m not gonna stop Uncle Jimmy from calling me Little Dexter any time soon, but I’m done with the “see my thumb” trick.
We sure were going off the rails on a crazy train weren’t we Dad? I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Til we meet again.
Thank you.
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