Thomas of the Richmond District

This is an addendum to a post I did last week about my neighbor Thomas who recently passed away. Here's the original post Maggie World: Thomas

Thomas was a lovely, sweet, homeless, mentally ill man who spread good cheer whenever her went. When news of his passing spread on the neighborhood blog there was an outpouring of stories of how Thomas had touched various people in the neighborhood. It was the internet at its most pure: no snark anywhere.

My friend Mark also lives in this neighborhood and told me there was a service planned at Star of the Sea church this evening. I made a point to go. I wondered as I approached the church if anyone would be there. I would not have been surprised to find 20 people there and that would have been lovely.

But I was wrong. I don't know why I underestimated my neighbors or the effect that Thomas had on them.  There were HUNDREDS of people there. The large church was full and there were people standing.

There are this many more behind me too

Folks brought food donations for the local food bank and donated to a collection to get Thomas a burial and headstone. He was a good man and a member of our community and we were there to take care of him. It was so heartwarming, especially on the eve of this very contentious election.

The priest talked about homelessness being the lack of a shelter, which was certainly true for Thomas, but he was not lacking a home. He was at home in our neighborhood under the trees. He was one of us.

After the mass I walked over to the reception with Mark and his wife Pat. Pat said that though she was impressed and moved by the turnout, she felt a little let down because she thought they had a special relationship with Thomas. I felt the exact same way.

The truth is, we did have a special relationship. Each of  us. All of us.

I feel very proud of my neighborhood. But in reality it was Thomas who did it. He was just the embodiment of goodness and shared it with us, his "family."  We were all richer for having known him.

Godspeed to a good man.  

Dia de los Muertos

Today is Dia de los muertos or Day of the Dead. It is a part of the Mexican culture to honor those who have died. It is a national holiday in Mexico and it has become more popular here as well. You see these altars set up everywhere.

I just received pictures from Joe, one or Maggie's former teachers at Mission High. There is an altar there for the school community and he put up a picture of Maggie and one of Tyre and his mom Nadine, who have all passed away.

It made me so happy to know Maggie is gracing those halls once again.

Halloween redux

Rerunning last year's post, because
"Halloween, my brother"

Saturday, October 31, 2015

Because Halloween, my brother

Happy Halloween everybody!

This was Maggie's Christmas, Birthday and 4th of July all rolled into one. She loved Halloween and all the crazy costumes Steve made for her.

This photo came up on my facebook "Memories" page yesterday and I had to laugh and send it to her brothers. This is a sentence she made on her talker one Halloween past

If you can't read it is says "Tim I am excited because Halloween my brother" 

It's been a long month of October anticipating this day and missing her more and more as it approached. But now it's here and all I can think of is her joy. That's a good thing.

Because it's a tradition, I offer you the parade of Maggie's costumes.

Have a wonderful enjoyable day...

"Because Halloween, my brother"

Thomas

My neighbor died. He was a fixture in our neighborhood for over 20 years. His name was Thomas.

Thomas was a very kind man and a very gentle soul. I saw him several times a week for many years - more than I see most neighbors. He always greeted me warmly and wished me well. You couldn't help but smile after an encounter with Thomas. 

We all knew him. When my boys Eddie and Tim were little they would point him out if we were passing him in the car shouting, "THERE'S THOMAS!" and wave. He rarely waved back because he wasn't watching passing cars. He lived right where he was. If you saw him while walking, he always had a wave and a kind word. Thomas was homeless and mentally ill. And he was lovely and seemed very happy.

For the last several years, Thomas lived in the trees along Park Presidio and spent his days on Clement Street. When I would see him at 9th and Clement he greeted me like an old friend.  For many years before that he lived in Golden Gate Park off JFK Drive, right by 8th avenue. I know that because at one time he proudly showed me his "home" in the trees.

Thomas was a fixture in the park for many years. Maggie and I were also fixtures in the park and ran into him all the time. He would jump up when he saw her wheelchair coming and spout blessings and wonder and lovely things. He delighted Maggie and he loved Maggie - but then again he loved everyone.  I've seen him many times since Maggie died and could never bring myself to tell him. I didn't want to do anything to make him sad.  

We saw him all the time in the Park or at Safeway or just around the neighborhood. I tried to bring him a plate for Thanksgiving one year, but he was nowhere to be found. Tim tried to give him money one time, but Thomas refused it. He never asked for anything. He just spread joy. 

Once my sister Ellen and two of her kids came to the City for a jaunt to the Park with Maggie and me. Her son Jeff and Maggie were both 3 or 4 years old and her daughter Leigh was probably 7 or 8. As we approached the area that Thomas frequented, I wanted to give them a heads up. They live in the suburbs and and Thomas was part of the colorful tapestry that makes the City so interesting. It was very different for them and it was entirely possible that he might scare them. As we got closer I spied him on the bench and said, "OK guys, this guy knows Maggie and he is going to say hello. He is a very nice man but he acts different than most people." I barely had the words out of my mouth when Thomas saw us coming, jumped up in his tattered clothing, with his beard and dreadlocks and threw back his head in greeting saying something like. "Oh there she is, my friend, she is blessed and she is beautiful and I love her. Hello Hello Hello my friend."  Maggie gave him a big grin as she always did, and Leigh and Jeff looked wide eyed at the unusual man. They took it in stride, though and we went on about our day. 

A few months later Ellen was driving a bunch of Leigh's classmates on a field trip to the Park. As they neared the park she spied a homeless man (not Thomas) walking along and said, "Hey mom, isn't that Auntie Sally's friend?"  Her classmates were starting at her mouths agape wondering who in the world her Aunt Sally was. Thomas gave me street cred with the 3rd graders from Santa Rosa.

I learned of Thomas' passing from Eddie. He sent me the article linked below. Eddie lives 400 miles away now, and has for many years, but this hit him because Thomas was part of our life. I am so glad someone wrote this article and if you have time I encourage you to read the comments. Everyone had almost the same experiences that we did.  

The Richmond District might not be the sexiest or most exciting part of San Francisco, but when you read the kind comments, you will see that it is truly the heart of this City.  Here's the link: http://richmondsfblog.com/2016/10/27/thomas-resident-homeless-man-at-funston-clement-passed-away-wednesday-night/

Rest in Peace, Thomas. And thank you for so many years of kindness and love.  

ExquisITALY

Gourmet store in Roma. The name describes our trip.

Italy was fantastic. The country is beautiful, the people are friendly, the food is wonderful and the sights are unbelievable. We walked and walked and walked - averaging 10-12 miles a day according to the app on my phone. You don't even realize how far you are walking, though, because everything is so captivating.

Our trip started in Florence and then we went to Venice and Rome and the Cinque Terra, finally returning to Florence to fly home. Each place was amazing with its own wonders to offer.

Florence from Piazza Michaelangelo

Dead End in Venice

Colosseum in Rome

Hike in the Cinque Terra (I complained a lot)

If you are in a position to take a trip to Italy, I highly recommend you do so. I watched people throughout my trip and the Italians are very warm. They greet each other enthusiastically and put up with a lot from the hordes of tourists there.  Sure, they make a lot of money from the tourists, but that doesn't seem like the motivation. They know what they have and they are happy to share it. They are taking the time to live and enjoy their lives and they live in a beautiful place with a rich and important history and culture.

Italy has a lot of churches. I mean an incredible amount of churches. The big famous ones have long long lines to get in. We went into St. Peters Basilica in Rome and into the Duomo in Florence. But in addition we went into many smaller churches, especially in Venice and Rome. Every single one was fantastic and filled with unbelievable art. These smaller churches would be unbelievably grand in the USA, but they were more "average" in Italy. 

Suffice it to say I lit a LOT of candles for Maggie in churches all over Italy.

Maggie's candle is in the top row, of course

I also threw a coin in the Trevi Fountain for her.

I have to share one strange and wonderful incident. When we were approaching the Colosseum in Rome I saw a young man in a wheelchair. He reminded me very much of Maggie. He was a tourist along with his dad. There was a musician playing and the dad pushed the boy up to the basket and helped him drop a coin in the basket, just as I did many times woth Maggie. That one moment really took my breath away. I miss Maggie every minute of every day, but in that moment I felt her with me. 

I wanted to say something, but I didn't. What could I possibly say? I just had to enjoy that moment and miss my daughter and return to the sightseeing with a sad smile. I didn't even tell Steve because he was fixated on some ruin at the moment.  Still, it had a profound effect on me. 

A couple of days later we were leaving our hotel, which was on a quiet street just a few blocks from St Peter's Basilica a few miles away from the Colosseum. This was not a big hotel, but a bed and breakfast on the 5th floor of a non-descript building on a non-descript street. As we were leaving a tour bus was letting passengers out. It was the only tour bus I saw near our hotel because we weren't that close to the Square and there was nothing of particular importance near us. I watched as people got off the bus wondering "why here?" Imagine my surprise when I see the same man carry the same young boy off the bus and someone follow with his wheelchair. I felt like it was a sign. Not sure what the sign meant, but I felt Maggie's presence very strongly. 

I guess that was to be expected. I always bring her with me. It has become my habit to pack one of Maggie's scarves whenever I travel. It's a little tangible reminder that she is with me. This is not something I talk about, but it has become part of my routine. When we arrived in Florence and started arranging our things, I noticed a scarf in Steve's bag too.

 He does the exact same thing and we never discussed it.  So she was with us on the whole trip.

 ________________-
Bonus section  I wasn't kidding about the food. here are just a few examples. I don't even have any main courses in there because I always ate it before I remembered to take a photo.

 "Eataly" is right

Italy

When you wake up Friday morning I will be landing in Florence, Italy.

This is a trip we have planned for a long time.  The airline and hotel reservations have been in place for months.  Because our life is more predictable than it used to be, we didn't bother with trip insurance. Of course we were going to go.

Then, early in the summer, Steve's dad got sick and we weren't sure if the trip was going to happen so all plans were put on hold.

We brought my father in law here to our house and have round the clock caregivers. When he moved in here at the end of July we weren't sure what was going to happen. With the right kind of care, however, he has stabilized and is comfortable.  He lives in Maggie's room so our life has come full circle.

Steve's siblings encouraged us to go on our trip and they are both coming here to manage their dad's care while we are gone.  We couldn't do it without that help and I am very grateful.  I confirmed the reservations and made a few more plans. Somehow, though neither of us really got excited about this because of the situation.  I think neither of us believed we were really going to be able to go. Now were are just 36 hours away from departure and excitement is building.

As we make the final preparations for our trip, I find myself in the familiar position of orchestrating the needs of a medically fragile individual.  Though we never attempted a trip this long when Maggie was with us, the similarities are uncanny. Instead of shift nurses and therapists and bus schedules, it's visiting nurses, caregivers, and social workers.  Supplies are laid in and I will stock the groceries for the first part of the trip. There is also the matter of making sure Steve's siblings know how to use the remote and other household things, and know when to put the garbage out. And, because this is San Francisco, we have to warn them of the car break in problem and plethora of parking tickets.

I think it's all done. I think everything is packed. Passports are ready, boarding passes will be printed. Things will be forgotten and we will manage without them.

Ciao.

Just Thursday

Many years ago I went out to dinner with Steve after we completed the last day of the three day bar exam. We had been in a cocoon of studying for two months and the test was finally over. The dinner was supposed to be celebratory, but it was very low key. We were both so exhausted and stressed and relieved we barely spoke during dinner.  As I looked around at other people in the restaurant chatting among themselves I was dumbfounded that they weren't feeling what I was feeling. I said to Steve, "Look at all these people. To them it's just THURSDAY."

Anyone facing a major upheaval in their life eventually comes to the realization that it is not effecting everyone else. It's a necessary first step toward normalization. At first you don't even think about it because you are in the middle of the explosion. Soon after, however, you look around and understand others cannot relate. It's not because they don't care, it's because they don't know. It didn't happen to them. Everything in your life is rocked to its core and people are still waiting for the bus, doing their grocery shopping and heading to work

It's hard to fathom when you life has hit some turbulence, be it good or bad,  that you may be the only one who feels it.  But that's the way it is supposed to work. We need the world to continue, we need people to hit turbulence at different times so that things can go forward. We each move from the center of the explosion to the edges while others are experiencing their own explosions. We become the worker bees while others celebrate or recover depending on the nature of their particular explosion.  That's how life works. 

Though the sadder things in life tend to be more dramatic, life altering turbulence isn't necessarily negative.  Falling in love can upend your life without anyone but the two of you feeling a thing. It's your job to absorb that into your life and move forward to give others room.  It is easier to move forward when the upheaval is positive rather than negative. Some things change your life forever - having children certainly does, losing a child does even more. The positive things become part of the fabric of our lives. The negative ones blow a hole in that fabric.

It was 31 years ago that I had that dinner with Steve. Since then I passed that bar exam, married Steve, started a career, bought a house, had and raised three children, dealt with years of medical crises, lost a parent, lost one child, restarted a career, and so much more.  Each of those has been an upheaval of one type or another.  As Jimmy Buffet said, "some of it's magic and some of it's tragic." . 

Everyone has to find their own way to continue forward with all that life has dealt them, good or bad, magic or tragic. We don't have to forget. We don't have to pretend we aren't forever changed. We just have to go on however we can. We have to make our way out of the epicenter and toward the edges and become part of life. 

I wish I had some sage advice to offer on this subject, but 2.5 years after losing Maggie I am still bumbling along -- faking it til I make it. Admittedly, I haven't moved too far from the explosion, but I am beginning to get some perspective.  

Right now I am back at that restaurant finally lifting my head realizing for everyone else it's just been Thursday all along. 

It's a start.