Dozens of friends and family and community members came to see him for a last time. Came to pay their respects to my family, came to revel in the love and admiration, came to speak amongst themselves, came to cry, and arrived only to say goodbye. "It's just his body, Yolie," my Dad encouraged. But it didn't matter to me. I held him and cried in anguish. Apologized for not saving him, apologized for failing, apologized for not preventing his loss, and loudly cried on his chest while I clung to his defined features and the soundless beating of his heart.
I can't tell you who was there and how many people appoached me and held me. I can't even tell you what was on my mind. All I could do was stay close to him and stare at my favorite person, my ultimate fan.
How could this happen? Why was HE placed so carefully and beautifully in a box unfitting for his personality. It was wrong. All wrong. The shock and mystified looks on everyones faces came lastly to my own. I built a couple collage boards featuring his smile and his life. Friends, family, Mia- Oh, Mia and their bond, whom he baptized only three weeks before. Their love and joy for one another is so plainly seen to anyone with a pair of soft eyes and precious heart. How could he leave HER? She asks for him all the time. "Nino, Nino!". First couple of weeks she was waking up in the middle of the night crying and pleading for him, and I, I would lull her back to sleep with my own rapid tears and soothing words, "Nino is asleep. Nino is so so tired".
I read his eulogy after the the slide show. I selected PM Dawn's "I'd Die Without You", which I had reserved for my own death and services, and shared it with my brother instead. The song was fitting. So philisophical and on point. "I'm under water and I'm drowning.....isn't it amazing how things completely turn around?" Firstly it's his feelings of desperation and unconditional love and in close second is our desire to take all that pain away from him just to be with him.
"I'd Die Without You" Lyrics
As I stood and walked to the podium, I felt the most immense weight on my heart and in my throat. I stood and looked around the room- over 200 pair of eyes patiently waiting for me to speak and take everyone's pain away. Fill their minds with my own words of comfort and forgiveness. My mouth went dry. I panicked. My heart rate sped up. I felt desperate. Someone tell me this isn't real- I am not standing here reading from a paper I quickly scribbled out 20 minutes before the mass begin.
My brother's drive and confidence stems from our childhood when our father passed away. Charley was a spunky kid and always had a mature air about him. Even as a young child, I looked up to him and wanted to be just like him: headstrong, tough, and blessed with the gift of comedy. I used to follow him around and he hated it. But at the end of the night while we were in our bunk beds, he'd give me the time I so profusely asked for. He'd sing songs to me, tell me jokes and we'd play wih his G.I. Joes. As we grew, so did his love for life. You all know: he always had a smile on his handsome face and would make every person he would meet feel special. He was the guy you can count on for anything. Ask, and he'd say yes. What time? No problem, Of course.
I'm heartbroken. I lost the the man in my life. The man who loved me and protected me as a child, kept a safe distance when I began to like boys and loved me more than ever as adults. He told me in his final weeks that I'd been his rock. And it surprised me because all along he had been mine.
I had always been his audience when he learned how to dance to impress the girls, came up with rhymes and flows when he fell into Hip Hop, made flash cards together for paramedic school exams, his ears to listen to every heartbreak, arms to hold him when he surrendered and the voice of reason to tell him I loved him. And I always told him. I never took him for granted.
He'd been my teacher. I soaked and absorbed his life moments and experiences as though they were my own. We were one. And now it's just me...joined by his spirit.
You all lost him. A son. A friend. A nephew. A cousin. A brother.
But you gotta respect him for the way he left us. Everything Charley did, he did with the utmost tenacity. He always did wht he wanted to do. He was a man of his word and when he gave it to you, he was sincere. When he told himself he'd do something , he would do it.
And so he made a choice- even if it wasn't HIM. He was content with all he'd achieved. And he gave up for the first time in his life, knowing very well we'd get through it. And he was brave. He was sooo brave for the decision he made. We can't speculate. We can only forgive. It's the biggest lesson he taught me. Forgive. Forgive yourselves for the guilt and forgive others and cleanse your soul. Get the most out of life and continue trying to be the best version of yourself. I know he always made me feel my best and instilled an inspiration to be better.
I hope he did the same for you.
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