Tony Garofola (1965-2011) We'll miss you, kid!

THE MAN WHO DIED

Forty-six
this was it
too many hardships
too much pain
they were all so good to me
my brother most of all.

This world was not made for people like me
a black hole somewhere inside my brain
tormenting me since the day I was born.
How many times have I stared at the ceiling
crying “Fix me, Fix me!” to whoever might be listening.

Would it be different when I moved up north?
Judy and I, walking hand in hand,
splashing each other in the salty Atlantic
My tears still flowed

Despair had raced me up the coast of Maine
try as I might to shut it out
it crept in like a shadow and
swallowed me whole.

December 11th
Time to say goodbye
Sitting on my bed where Sleep
was my only friend
the full moon crept in the window
for a last goodbye

Thoughts of Judy and her blue eyes
My nephews Garrett and Stefano and their
mother who was good to me
Their father Michael,
my beloved
almost a twin
would’ve given me a
brain transplant had there been one.

Goodnight sweet world.
The party is over.
The tennis game ends in a draw.
I’ve hiked up enough mountains.
My feet are sore.
I shall go up through the ceiling
beyond the clouds
meet my father and my mother
Surely Death will set me free.

Tony's funeral began this morning at 10 at Saint John of the Cross in the Roslyn section of Abington. The funeral listing is here.

Three people from our support group were there. Ada drove me and we met Helen in the parking lot.

On my New Directions' phone list, I list Tony, plus the phone of his brother Michael. When I saw Mike's name on the Caller ID, I knew why he had called.

Three Upper Dublin police officers came to Mike's home the nite he died and rang the bell. It was 11:30 pm. They gave him the news, staying with him an hour and answering all of his questions.

All the police departments in Montgomery County have been trained about mental illness by the smart and caring people at Montgomery County Emergency Service.

Joe Moore from our group would call Tony periodically. Joe called me about a month ago and told me Tony was not doing well. I then called Tony and persuaded him to attend Mike's Hikes, which he did.

We hiked the Mason's Mill path of Pennypack Trust. I can't tell you how happy I was to see Tony. He rarely attends group. After our walk, we all ate at a new pizza place. New Directions paid the bill, thanks to the donation from the jazz concert at Chris's Jazz Club. Tony thanked me profusely.

That was the last time I saw him. Funny, but it seems as if Tony is here in the room with me now.

It was my unhappy task to email people in the group who knew him. Everyone was shocked and saddened. Jack said "my heart is broken. Tony was my friend."

Tony, a graduate of Upper Dublin High School and Temple University, worked as an actuary in Maine. He had a great girlfriend up there. They kept in touch after he moved back to Pennsylvania to live in his father's house. His dad "Rico", 84, died a couple of years ago. Rico was quite a character, a fun guy, according to what I learned at the luncheon after the funeral.

After his dad died, he bought a Manchester terrier as a companion. He named him Tino. He was 2 when he got him at the dog pound. Now he's 6. I met Tino today when I went to Michael and Elizabeth's house for lunch. When I pulled up, cars were parked all up and down the incredibly hilly street.

His nephews, Garrett, 9, and Stefano, 7, are delighted with their new dog.

On our New Directions website last year, I listed under Job Opportunities "Census Worker." I called Tony and told him about it. Since he wasn't able to find a job as an actuary, he applied for the census job and got it. He did really well.

Joe Moore, above, always has great ideas. Although he was working at Gerhart's, he rounded up Tony and Jack and they begin "finishing" people's decks on weekends. It brought the boys a little extra pocket change until they found real jobs.

Tony was a great athlete. He played tennis year-round and did kick-boxing at LA Fitness. He golfed in Maine. One time at one of Mike's Hikes, we needed to climb an incredibly steep hill at Pennypack Trust. Tony playfully ran up the hill and back down again. It was good to see what a joker he was.

The funeral was very well-attended. I'd never met Michael before so it was a surprise to see what he looked like at the church. Tall and handsome like his younger brother, he had some Bruce Springsteen kind of hair below his lip that looked cool. Wife Elizabeth is a tall striking long-haired blond. The kids, who were playing with those whatchma-call-its in their hands, are both dark-haired and looked cute in their suit and ties.

When Ada and I left, the boys were being coached by a tall nun in street clothes who wore a long necklace with a cross on it. They performed some sort of ritual at the Mass.

The chapel was very beautiful. When New Directions used to meet at the Willow Grove Mall during the day, a few of us would often take a long walk and end up at a church, always going inside to see its beauty, and I believe we ended up at St John of the Cross. Tony would often be among us.
Side view of the church

One woman who was powerfully moved by his death was Virginia. I had introduced the two of them b/c Ginny needed someone to drive her places. Tony became that man. She saw him nearly every week and they had a lot in common and would share bits of information.

For me, poems are a way to collect my feelings and wrap them up like a gift. I kept revising it, whispering it to myself, so I could get the rhythms right. A man read it at the very end of the Mass.

Beforehand, the gold-framed poem was displayed in a prominent place and the ushers directed people to take a look at it. How thoughtful!

Elizabeth and Michael Garofola. I got to know them a bit and see why they have so many friends. She's quite the feisty woman and he's quite the joker.

Exactly one week ago the Garofolas hosted a party with this same group of friends and relatives. Tony was there. He left early, which Mike thought was strange. He had actually gone home to do the deed. A woman at today's party told me she saw him standing over by the sink, waved at him but he didn't see her. "Oh," she thot, "I'll say hi to him later."

But he wasn't there.

With suicides, everyone wonders what they could have done differently to help the deceased individual. Nothing. The individual had made their final decision and nothing we could have done would've stopped them.

My own brother David, the family photographer, took his own life over 30 years ago. He suffered from autism, just as Tony had Asperger syndrome, two brain conditions on the Autism Spectrum. Two days ago a comprehensive article on this subject appeared in the LA Times.

Vat else? she said in a Yiddish accent. No, we don't speak Yiddish anymore. That was in the days of Gramma Zali. Zali is my middle name.

These amazing likenesses of Garrett and Stefano (fantastic names) were done at one of St John's craft shows.

Here they are, taking a rest from playing video games. But only on the weekends!

Here's Tino, who had been following Lizzy all around the house since moving in with them. You can imagine what poor Tino went through, losing his beloved master. Tony had put Tino outside when he was ready to die in the very house he lived in his whole life. It's somewhere behind Sam's Italian Market.

I watched Garrett and a friend who took Tino out for a walk. Garrett was amazed at the way the dog sniffed every little thing. He'd never had a dog before.

This beautiful credenza is from the home of a potato farmer up in Michigan. It's quite old and once belonged to Elizabeth's father or grandfather.

Inside are Michael and Anthony's old toys. The doll to the left was crocheted by Elizabeth's grandmother. Her family boasts amazingly talented craftswomen.

Look at this old telephone. It's got the OL 9 exchange which is now 659. I know it well, since it's my own exchange. For a hot date call 659-2142.

Talked to so many interesting people there! Irene and her husband are neighbors. We shared diabetes info and I told her about all the diabetes updates I get online. When I arrived at the party and sat in my car, I injected 14 units. As I walked up to the house I told myself to "be good."

I had a Coors Light but only drank four huge sips. My first beer since I was diagnosed in April. Irene's husband - is it Joe? - works near the Boulevard for a company that makes all the Gideon bibles that are placed in hotels all over the world. One million are produced every week.

Now Rocky Raccoon, he fell back in his room, only to find Gideon's bible

When I said goodnight, I had many choices how to get to the faraway sidewalk. There were a couple of sets of stairs which, quite honestly, wouldn't be as much fun as walking down the steep hill. I had told one of the guests, who mentioned her sciatica was acting up, that I had a life-changing operation for my sciatica in August. It felt great striding down their steep hill.

And to all a good night!

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