The Mr. and I went to a wake last night in his childhood hometown. The services were for a well known and loved man who had run a bakery for many years there with his entire family. One of the most generous men you’d ever be lucky to meet – Harry would feed the homeless out the back door of his bakery, lend money to friends he’d never see returned, give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. The line was down the block and although it was a freezing cold day with winds whipping off New Haven Harbor, there was so much -warmth- among the people in attendance. Part of that was because of Harry himself, he brought people together by nature and he was always up for a party. But also… it was about where these people come from.
M and I both grew up in the congested suburbs of bigger cities, New York and New Haven. Blue collar families, police and fire families, immigrant families of different ethnicities as well as white collar families coexisted comfortably in close housing of all kinds. Mostly modest homes, postage stamp lots. As children we went out to play in the neighborhood and no one had to worry about our safety – we were among friends everywhere. That’s not to say there weren’t issues in the ‘hoods, but somehow it all blended in to a comfortable community.
We saw that camaraderie again last night as we waiting in that long line, all of us chattering Harry stories, consoling each other in the fact that we’ll never see him again. We half expected him to be standing at the door ushering people in with a joke and a cigarette and his pastry on a nearby table. People of all ages, ethnicities, economic levels were kind and affectionate with each other. Folks who hadn’t seen each other in 40 years embraced with tears and hugs and love. That kind of togetherness, that blending of so many differences into a likeness – a kindness – a friendly way of being… isn’t really seen as often where we live now. The more affluent shoreline communities certainly have plenty of good folks doing good things, but that relaxed “my home is your home” feeling, not so much.
What’s evident when we visit both our childhood communities is a deterioration of the old home structures, businesses too. Seems we lived in those areas in their hey-day. Sad thing and I’m not sure what economic realities are causing that to happen, or what can be done about it. I just know, growing up in those communities made us a more caring lot of people, an experience no amount of money can buy. It’s all in the heart, and both M and I are grateful for our community upbringing.
Harry died as we all hope to – in his mid eighties, peacefully asleep on his couch. He is being buried as he lived – surrounded by his loving and beloved family, his 1,000 friends in attendance, multiple family pictures in his casket, a pack of cigarettes, a picture of his favorite entertainer, Marilyn Monroe, his wedding ring on his finger – the lifetime love of his life and wife of 60 or so years by his side to help others say goodbye. This quote is Harry all the way –