It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s happened twice in less than a week: This old man has found himself getting choked up. The older I get, the easier it is to become dewy-eyed.<\/p>\n
Let me explain:<\/p>\n
I delivered a brief eulogy for my father-in-law, Stanley Coppock, in Springer last Thursday. Why me? Why not one of Stanley\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s four daughters? Well, to a (wo)man, they emphasized they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be unable to carry it out \u00e2\u20ac\u201d too emotional.<\/p>\n
Since I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not blood, but a son-in-law, and since the daughters had prepared the words I delivered, I was sure I could get through it without shedding a tear. All went fine (and here, I realize, it might even appear that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m describing a performance instead of paying homage to a man I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve known for almost 50 years) until I got to the list (neighbor, friend, father, husband, brother, grandfather, etc.). Something about identifying all the things Stanley was, and stood for, made me interrupt my presentation, pause a second, compose myself, think about it, and conclude it.<\/p>\n
The same thing happened to my son, who was in fact merely reading a note from his Denmark-residing older brother. But that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s another story.<\/p>\n
Back to my lacrimal nature: Is there something in the air, a virus, something contagious, that triggered my waterworks?<\/p>\n
I learned Monday that Jesse Gallegos, a long-time friend, student, former boss and current public relations director for Luna Community College, lost his mother. Jesse was on a talk program on KFUN, with Luna\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s president, Pete Campos, and the subject was transitions, which includes death. Never having met Jesse\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s mother, I listened objectively until he went into detail about his mother\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s last few hours on earth. I was touched. Touched enough to begin to feel what Jesse must have undergone.<\/p>\n
At my relative\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s memorial service, I hope I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t create discomfort in my announcement that \u00e2\u20ac\u0153since we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re celebrating someone\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s life, let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s allow this celebration to be joyous.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d There is room for humor.<\/p>\n
Let me explain this too:<\/p>\n
Some really old clerics who live among us today but whose minds now reflect the Middle Ages, must have decreed that certain things need to be solemn. For most of my parochial school upbringing, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been threatened with the fires of that really hot place if I dared laugh in church, or display any kind of levity.<\/p>\n
There was to be no smiling during mass, no distractions, no gum, no candy, or anything that affects the decorum of the service. I accept this. And that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s why one of my first recollections of feeling true discomfort at Immaculate Conception Church, in the \u00e2\u20ac\u02dc40s, was when the archbishop himself described something comical, got absolutely no reaction, and finally said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153People, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m trying to tell a joke here.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d
\nLaughter ensued.<\/p>\n
So it was in Springer when I put a light touch on Stanley\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s curmudgeonness and noticed a few chuckles in the congregation.<\/p>\n
Tears and laughter: opposite sides of a coin?<\/p>\n
I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve done my share of both. A few years ago, as I was being interviewed by the Albuquerque outlet of National Public Radio, the host asked me about the things I love and hate the most. I had to think: I love laughter, as most who know me will agree; I hate cruelty, bullying and deliberate attempts to make others cry. Some believe tears indicate weakness. Ahh, maybe that accounts for my condoning tear-drop therapy.<\/p>\n
Once again, let me explain:<\/p>\n
Older brothers were created for one purpose only: to make their kid brothers cry. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not enough to overpower the runt, humiliate him, out-smart him. No! The job\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not complete until you can see real tears.<\/p>\n
Then, the bigger, tougher, smarter person can say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Did you see? I made Mannie (my nickname) cry.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Then the chanting becomes more generalized, and we hear a chorus of \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Cry, baby, cry, stick your finger in your eye.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d
\nI believe almost everyone with an older sibling has been a victim of teasing, which begets taunting, which begets bullying. As a result, many of us steel our constitution; we refuse to give people the satisfaction they crave. Their aim in life is to make someone cry, but some of us refuse to allow that, even if it guarantees humiliation and pain.<\/p>\n
Well, little ol\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Las Vegas, with its 5.6 percent drop in population and with its aging population, isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t quite the war zone I pictured it in my youth. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve written many times about needing to try a half-dozen routes to school to avoid Gibber, Trigger, Don, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sopandas\u00e2\u20ac\u009d and the others whose mission appeared to be rearrangement of my dentition.<\/p>\n
The years apparently have worn away my need to conceal emotions, and as I age, I find myself much more sensitive to others\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 moods, joys and foibles.<\/p>\n
And that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s why it doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t embarrass me to admit I was touched by the reaction to how I delivered my father-in-law\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s eulogy and by hearing about Jesse Gallegos’ loss of his mother.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u00a2 \u00e2\u20ac\u00a2 \u00e2\u20ac\u00a2<\/p>\n
But there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s still a bit of pending business:<\/p>\n
I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mean to libel my older brother, Severino, who will probably insist his rough treatment was \u00e2\u20ac\u0153for your own good.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s probably right: it was all for the better.<\/p>\n
Nevertheless, some day I intend to pay him back for the time he forced me to walk a half mile with him, in uncharted territory (for me), and threatened to throw me into the equator.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s happened twice in less than a week: This old man has found himself getting choked up. The older I get, the easier it is to become dewy-eyed. Let me explain: I delivered a brief eulogy for my father-in-law, Stanley Coppock, in Springer last Thursday. Why me? Why not one of Stanley\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s four daughters? Well, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/736"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=736"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/736\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":737,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/736\/revisions\/737"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=736"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=736"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=736"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}