Life goes on.

and on.

………. and on.

This is an artifact that every molecule in this entire universe shares and holds dearly. In our world life is a very tangible and delicate experience. Life is our most treasured posession. It is respected. It is cared for. And most heartbreakingly, it can be taken.

I have tried to live a life ripe with honest interactions. From time to time you bump into another person who shares this perspective. You can see it in the way they listen to a story you tell. You can hear it in the way they ask a question. You can feel it when a connection is formed.

I met Chris Psarros in the rain. It was late and the clouds had completely opened up in Jersey City. At the time I was dating his daughter, Ann Marie. She had left the light on in her car and the battery had died and she was sopposed to have the car back an hour before we realized that the car would not be starting. Chris drove a hour down to my apartment with my now mother-in-law in the pouring rain through the complicated network of urban sprawling roadways and poorly lit street signs. I was sure the meeting would be an awkward one. It wasn’t. His bigger-than-life smile with his neatly kept moustache and firm handshake laid the foundation for a connection that would last a lifetime. Chris had the kind of presence that would allow you to forget that it was raining.

We met the cancer on a beautifully sunny day. Chris had picked us up from the airport upon returning from a family trip to Disney. We fumbled our way out of the baggage area and into the sun where we were greeted by that smile and that handshake. That smile that will be impossible to forget in even the slightest degree. After driving us back to the house and showing us some generous work that he had done for us in the yard, he was struck dizzy. He lost his balance and almost collapsed to the floor. It was the first time I had ever seen him look afraid. Chris was a strong man. Nothing would rattle him. He was the definition of cool under pressure. But it scared me to see him look a little shook.

From that mark the cancer was in charge. The cancer decided to play out in the worst case scenario at every stage that we held out hope for. Every doctor visit, every test. Shit. Each stage more heartbreaking than the next. What was unthinkable a week before would be a stark reality the next. You begin to talk about filming video messages so my youngest daughter Makayla will see him, and hear him speak to her…. a hope that she will hold a memory of him. But the cancer was too ravenous and robbed us of even these kinds of plans. Before long and Chris wouldn’t be able to watch football games downstairs anymore. Helping him feel comfortable quickly became our only refuge. The act of sitting next to or laying down with him were moments treasured. Loved ones would visit and when it came time to leave, you would see the look and feel the hearts of people knowing this was a true goodbye. Heart. Breaking. It was an awful thing.

Chris passed with his family holding him. Literally. He was enveloped with people who would never say good-bye but had to that night. Watching and feeling someone pass is something. I don’t have a word and I’m not quite sure that one exists. I could paint a picture of the love that was present and the sorrow that had melted hot upon us all. I could describe the sounds that the family made when his final breath had passed. I could show you what my eyes look like when telling this story. But I really don’t think people have created words for that moment. It happened.

I will miss him. Often. My spiritual beliefs tend to vary but I do believe in one thing firmly. I believe that the afterlife lives on amongst the people you influenced in life. Chris lives on in my ability to chase my dreams, love life purely, find adventure, eat and live well, work hard, smile wide and shake firmly. In turn he will live on in my daughters lives for I will pass on all of my experiences and connections and lessons I shared with Chris on to my girls. And they, in turn, will pass these on to the people the interact with in this world. He will be with us forever in so many ways is impossible to calculate. But said simple, I love you Chris. And that will live on. And on……and on.

Related Posts

No related posts found