summer of my youth had come and gone, I was beginning my journey into manhood…I was
starting Junior High School! This, of course, for a 12 year old boy was the big leagues. No more
grade school and the treatment associated with being there. This is the year I become a
teenager and because of that, the world will have to start taking me seriously. Yep, I had it all
figured out. Growing up isn’t hard at all I thought. However, the arrangement of time and the
End had not yet been revealed to me.
This story begins in the very place where I saw my future being realized, Jr. High School.
But not in the way I ever thought it would. My grandmother worked for the local school district
as a custodian and because school was back in session, she worked the evenings. One day in
August, my grandfather and I took a trip over to the school to meet my grandmother. She was
working the Jr. High wing of the school, in one of the science classes, when we arrived. I
remember the sun was coming through the windows very strongly! The room was full of light
and very warm. There were no air-conditioners in our school, so you would open all the
windows in the classrooms to get some relief from the heat. My Grandma had all of the
windows open when we arrived. It was still summer and you could feel it in the air. They don’t
call August , “the dog days” for nothing and that day was no different. That’s why,
when my grandpa was telling my grandma that he didn’t feel good, it surprised me. My grandpa
had cancelled his annual fishing trip to Kentucky Dam because he was feeling under the
weather. My grandpa never missed a fishing trip, so, this too, was surprising. He told my
grandma that he felt like he had a bad cold and that his back hurt a little. My grandma
dismissed his initial complaints, because like she said, “He always complained about his back.” I
remembered those complaints as well while growing up.
So, when September came around and our family reunion took place, my grandpa
complained that his back was a mess. Because he was feeling this way for a couple of weeks, it
motivated my grandpa into a doctor’s visit, with the urging of my grandma as well. Our family
doctor, Dr. Rudolph, ordered x-rays for my grandpa’s back. It was here that the mass was found
in his lung; a cancerous tumor. Surgery was offered, but refused by my grandpa. He opted for
radiation to kill the cancer. These facts were not made available to me at the time, but I knew
my grandpa was in a “situation” that needed multiple visits to the doctor. At the time, mortality
wasn’t a part of the equation for me. The most harm I saw take place was the sunburns my
grandpa would get on his shoulders because of the radiation treatments. Many nights I
remember massaging skin moisturizer into his burned areas while we watched the Chicago
Cubs make the playoffs. It was a real happy time for us. Of course, the Cubs lost in the pennant
that year and I remember my grandpa saying that “This team will be back next year.” Spoken
like a true Cub’s fan. Always next year! That playoff season was to be the last time my grandpa
and I would see his beloved Cub’s play a game together.
Into October my grandpa was still working his job at Cerro Copper Tubing in Sauget,
Illinois, a job he worked for 27 years. It looked like my grandpa was fine. He was working and
cheering the Cubs on to a failed World Series run, so it was business as usual with no signs of
the things to come. Signs that, being a 12 year old boy, I was not yet tuned into seeing. By the
end of October my grandpa was no longer working. The radiation had finally caught up to him.
It was one visit to the doctor in particular that put all of my perceptions of what was really
going on into conflict of what I thought. I remembered looking out my back door one day and
saw my Uncle Jeff and a family friend, Todd Nobbe, carrying my grandpa up to the back door.
They carried my grandpa into the house where they placed him in his favorite rocking chair. I
was told that he passed out at the doctor’s office after getting his treatment. I looked at my
grandpa and saw that he was dazed and somewhat confused. So was I.
Going into the holiday season my grandpa was now in hospice treatment. Helping my
grandpa walk to the bathroom and holding him up on the toilet, while he did his business, was
a far cry from the man I grew up admiring and loved. I could see that he did not want me to see
him in that condition. He stopped looking me in the eyes and conversations were beginning to
disappear. However, Thanksgiving brought hope! It was during Thanksgiving dinner that my
grandpa became more alert and ate an extremely large amount of my Aunt June’s famous
stuffing. I remember people were making comments and joking about his appetite. You could
feel that everyone was feeling a surge of optimism and there was that slight feeling that a
corner had been turned. Christmas was another holiday that brought an abundance of hope.
My grandpa kept himself away in his room for the majority of the holiday because he did not
want people to see him in his condition. In our intimate time together, I knew why he was that
way, and I understood. I fooled myself into thinking that he wanted to get better first before
coming back out. The Christmas holiday was the best I had as a kid, because of the shear
amount of presents I got. Christmas morning I saw the tree and was amazed by all the presents
underneath it. What did I do to deserve all of this, I thought? Everyone was very happy!
JANUARY 16, 1990
The day was cold and overcast. The leaves on all the trees had long since fallen to the
brown, frozen earth. Standing in my backyard that day, I saw a world cold and dead. This was a
far cry from that day back in August that had so much promise and potential. My brother Matt
and I were throwing a football back and forth to one another talking about school and various
other things, when time literally stopped. My Aunt June came blasting out of our back door…
“One of you boys go run and get your grandma! Your grandpa has stopped breathing!”
I remember my brother and I locked eyes on one another and were frozen for what
seemed like an eternity. I remember the loud voice in my head scream, “RUN!” So I did. I don’t
remember if I still had the football in my hand or not, but I took off like a rocket down the alley
behind our house, leaving my brother standing in our yard. My grandma was working at the
high school that was only 2 blocks from our house. The alley would take me straight there. Just
three houses down the alley, I came to the back parking lot of the funeral home that was just
down the street from our house. I remember feeling the darkness and weight of the place as I
was running past it. I could feel death eyeing me as I ran by. At the end of the first block, with
one more to go, I ran into my Aunt Toni pulling into the alley. She is the oldest child of my
grandparents. She stopped me and asked,” What was I doing and what was wrong?” I told her
and she replied, “Oh there is nothing wrong. I am sure it is nothing. Aunt June made a mistake.”
This confident response put me at ease somewhat, so when she said get in the car, I did. A part
of me wanted to believe that maybe my Aunt June was over-reacting.
We drove back to the house and quickly went inside. Everyone was crying. Uh
oh…everything doesn’t look alright. I followed my aunt into my grandpa’s bedroom. I stopped
at the door as she exploded into tears and wailing. I was confused. She had said everything was
going to be OK! I remembered getting angry! I said something like, “Why did you stop me!?” I
don’t think she even heard me. I turned around and ran out of the house again. My grandma
still didn’t know. Everyone in the house was devastated and had temporarily gone mad, so they
couldn’t be counted on I thought, to get word to my grandma. Down the alley I went again. I
past the funeral home again, but this time I can hear voices in my head saying stop. Why are
you still running? It’s no use. I feel a strong urge to just stop in my tracks and give up…but I
don’t. I run faster than I ever have before. I just run!
I finally make it to the school where I find one of my grandma’s co-workers and they tell
me she is on the top floor (3rd story) working. I attack the stairs! I reach the top of the stairs
and look down the hallway and see my grandma. I instantly make my way toward her and she
responds with, “What’s wrong?” Looking back, I think she knew. I tell her what is wrong and she
casually puts her things away and says that everything is OK and it’s probably nothing. In my
mind, I’m screaming, “You too! What’s wrong with you people?” I finally get her moving in the
right direction and eventually return to the house. I enter the house and go straight to the
bedroom. I stop at the doorway. I see my Aunt Toni clinging to her father, as she is crying
loudly. She looks up at me, as I make my way to the foot of the bed. She has tears, snot and hair
covering her face. She says, “Robbie, my daddy is gone! Our daddy is gone!” This is my
moment. I am still. I can only look at the man that I knew as my father and stare. He looked at
peace. My aunt extended her hand out and I finally come closer. I grabbed my grandpa’s hand
and kiss his forehead. I fell to my knees, next to his bed, and I finally started to cry.
Later that night, my brother and I, were sitting on the couch in the living room as the
coroner took my dad out in a black plastic bag. At that moment, I remembered running past the
funeral home. As my dad was taken away, I could hear Death whispering, “You ran, but still lost.
I won and nothing you did could change that.” My grandfather went directly to that same
funeral home that night. I never felt so small and alone in my entire life.
Little did I know, looking back, that I would make that transition into manhood like I
thought I would. In just 13 years of my life, my grandfather still had the most positive
impact on me, as a man. My grandfather was always a teacher, happy to share his experiences
and provide a healthy environment for his kids. I learned from him that being responsible, you
make no excuses, being accountable, you can put others at ease, and a home is somewhere
where everybody is welcome. His actions showed me that strength truly comes from within. I
often look back and remember my grandpa working while he was being treated for, at the time,
two cancerous tumors. The man knew he was dying and he still went to work! His family was
the most important thing. He was going to provide until he simply couldn’t anymore, even if it
killed him. To me, this is heroic!
No doubt about it, my grandpa was my hero. If placed in similar situations like the ones
he had to endure, I can only hope to measure up to such a standard. Strength comes from
within. I believe the second time I ran past the funeral home and actually stopped, I would have
never finished anything in my future life. It was my grandpa that pushed me to keep running
that day. His spirit was definitely with me. That day taught me to never quit and to never give
up. My grandfather’s spirit is one that will always remind me that, no matter what adversities
life throws at me, I can always do more with the life I have.
