There is a saying, "May you live all the days of your life." That was Gene, for whom every moment was interesting. The last time I saw Gene, a few days before he died, when he could barely speak, when he was expending all his energy just to breathe, he told me that others had given him last rites and he asked me if there was anything I wanted to say. His eyes said to me that he was done fighting and he and I knew that this was the last time we'd see each other. He noticed my hesitation and said, "You don't have to." I told him I'd miss him. He said likewise. By this time, Gene was so weak that his eyes remained closed most of time I was there. But suddenly he opened them and said, "In our relationship this is the only time I've had nothing to say." I laughed. But the truth was, even on this day, when he was barely alive, he still had something to say, but he was too weak to say it.
Gene always had something to say; he was a story teller. His stories were not the kind people make up; they were all based on his keen observations of life. He came into my office once while I was talking to a student, and later he asked me about the student. He told me that he suspected that this student was mildly autistic, and he explained his diagnosis. That helped me when working with this student. Next time we were together he asked me about the student, by name-someone he'd met for 1 minute. Gene was a curious student of life.
Gene did not just tell a good story-he could also listen. He would listen carefully, thoughtfully, actively. But never judgmentally. He was interested in understanding, not evaluating. We'd go for a beer and we'd each have some topics or stories that we planned to talk about, but we'd seldom finish more than one item because with Gene, the point was not to accomplish anything in particular, but rather to engage honestly and authentically. We'd talk about work, sports, our relationships. It did not matter, because the process was one of honestly sharing. He'd tell me his thoughts about losing his mother or about his aging father. When talking to Gene I always felt as if we were on a journey. And on this human journey, it was just fine to be our imperfect selves. I once shared with him something I said during a disagreement with my wife, and he looked at me and said, "Well that was stupid." I smiled. You could always count on Gene telling it like he saw it, but because he was not judging me, it was safe to hear what Gene had to say. That was stupid; he was right. But with Gene it was ok to be stupid, because Gene knew that sometimes humans are stupid, and it was ok to be human. I think Gene liked Gene, maybe because he understood that it was ok to be stupid sometimes. That was part of being human.
Gene told me to call him "compa," which was short for compadre. I'll miss Gene waving to me as he walked by my class as I was teaching. Or greeting me in the hall with a hug. I'm going to miss my Compa.
And, finally, our nephew Jason. An incredible young man, who, with his beautiful wife Nancy, continues as well to provide me with support, caring, friendship and love. Jason thinks in outline, but spoke volumes about Gene. Many people who attended the SDSU memorial shared with me that Jason's remarks were especially meaningful to them. For me, I think often about his comment that Gene did not leave too early, he did not leave too late (what, not late?) but left exactly when he should have. I've reflected on this often and I know that he is correct. How does he have that wisdom, at such a young age? I have also come to realize, with regard to this, that the days Gene lived after coming off the ventilator... about two and a half weeks...while filled with the most incredible suffering, were also, such a gift. Several doctors and nurses shared after the fact that they did not expect him to live through that, to come off the ventilator. And upon waking, for several days, Gene made comments about being already dead. He asked, "Am I still alive?" on more than one occasion, and he related experiences to prove that he could not be....he was just at his dad's house and everyone was there. ......his dad could not be alive because "he died the same day I did". If the other side is non-temporal, I've started to wonder....did he pass over and then come back? It was after this that he began to tell me that he needed to die. Although I accepted it and let him know that I did, I still held on to hope. But it gave us some time, not enough time, and I now wish I'd been able to keep myself awake for more of those 3AM conversations that he wanted to have. It gave us some time for him to share his concerns about dying and to express some of his wishes. That was an incredible gift, that not everyone who must let go of a loved one gets....though of course, I wish I could have had more. So...Jason's words resonate deeply for me, and his talking points below, capture just a bit, the essence of his moving, sometimes humorous, always accurate, reflections on Gene's life: If you are curious, you'll just have to ask Jason!
LUCKY TO KNOW HIM AS CHILD AND AS ADULT
*Valles time
* he is an event
- entertaining
- interesting
- wise
- deep
- funny
- uncle brother
* what did he just say
- put downs
- roses
- Kd Langy
- humpreys concerts
* hospital
- valles
- tj hot dog
- love - valentines day
- anger - even during bad times
- how to be ill
- everything happens for a reason
- even the strong have to go when it's their time
- gene didn't leave early, he didn't leave late he left on time
- 2 lasting lesson
1 leukemia is tough and it's even tougher for latinos. The donor base is narrow and it shouldn't be - gene helped get so many more added to the donor base that would not other wise be there, because of him, someone's life could be saved
2 life is beautiful, it is exciting, it is dangerous, it's full of adventures and interests; so don't wait to start living yours, it's never too late
Refreshments & more reflections in the courtyard.
Write in his book and Please take a packet of seeds and plant them to share gene's garden
