Wednesday, December 7, 2011

On the path from Vernon to Giverny, 2007.



Love said to me. 

Thomas Salem Manganaro


Hi all, I just got back from visiting Michael [in hospice November 14, 2011]. First I went to the house, where Pam was, gave her a long hug as she sobbed, happy to see me, and sat around in the kitchen with their friend Jeanne who was visiting from NY and staying with Pam. I just saw Alex and Jacob quickly, they were running in and out. Then I followed Pam to the hospice center, and was able to sit with Michael one-on-one (Pam left us there) for at least 30-40 minutes.

First thing I did was read the two letters to Michael. He laughed at Dad's story about the trip to Glastonbury, and after reading mom's letter, he said, "It required some effort and diligence to find postcards at each location." I told him how Anthony has been eager to hike the Appalachian trail, and remembered recently how we hiked up the "blue" trail in High Point to the top, and Michael said, "Well...Maine or Georgia?" Michael said he remembered we would take a few steps in each direction. He also remembered dad telling us at 7 a.m. after camping (maybe chastising us), "Guys, this is not TV". Michael's memory for these kinds of things is spot-on; I told him he was talking clearly and coherently, and he said, "Good, I appreciate that." Of course he talks slowly and softly, and I often missed things he said. I think I caught him at a good moment though. He remembered about my burnt foot, and how Dad was en route from the west coast at the time; Michael added that "We never thought you were going to make it," and remembered buying prescriptions for me regarding ear/antibiotic problems. I reminded him how Rania was doing theater stuff in Chicago, and Anthony was doing an English PhD like me, and he said, "Amazing" (he had remembered us telling him last time we visited); I told him genetic determinism must be strong, and he offered the anthropologist's answer that being around certain kinds of people must have had a strong effect. I told him my earliest memories were those first years in Highland Park, because I was just 2 coming over from Hawaii, and Michael remembered how "Rania was still in diapers." Later I was reminiscing also about Marjorie as a prevalent friend early on, and he said, "Your parents managed to surround you guys with the best people." I told him I was really glad to be able to babysit Jacob some years later, as a kind of reciprocation, etc. I told him my earliest memory of him was with Sasha, though I didn't remember much about him, so Michael told me about how he was a foster child he took on (age 14-16), who was a good companion because of his "affinity to nature," but that it was mainly a comfort for Michael . . . . At one point he said, "I feel like I have just been tiptoeing down memory lane." I asked him if he had been in contact with George Levine, he said he had written a beautiful letter, and that revisiting memories with George were almost "too strong" and difficult to handle. He asked me what I was doing later that day, I said I would go back and read and read some more, and then do some more reading; he asked what I was reading, I told him Beckett, Heidegger; he said, "Ah, light reading." After I unsuccessfully tried to snag a nurse at one point, I told him I wasn't a very good hospital assistant; he said, "Not your discourse;"  I said, "No, my discourses are much less practical"; he said, "Classic Manganaro." I asked him what he remembered about the Lebanese family, he said he remembered Paul taking one of Michael's adventure stories (though he may have been referring to our canoe trip) and turning the story into "a version of 'Heart of Darkness.'" I told him it was odd coming upon academic works as a grad student by people that I knew personally; he thought that was interesting, said "Different matrices."

Michael has a birdfeeder outside the window. He looks extremely thin and sick. At one point, he said he was getting tired, I stood up, then he started to lose bearings, saying, "I don't know where I am," but then I looked at him and said, "It was really nice to be able to remember these things with you, Michael," and he said, "Yes, yes," and I think he came back. Then I got a phone message from Dad, and talked to him on the phone, and I could tell Michael was hearing Dad's voice through the phone. He said it would be difficult to talk on the phone, but I relayed Dad's message; I could tell it meant a lot. Pam returned, big smile, big hugs, she was extremely grateful I was there, very very warm. I said goodbye, and the goodbye was in the context of "Come back and visit, we'll be here for a while." I may return and visit, it doesn't seem clear what the timeline is. I could tell Michael was very glad to be able to talk and reminisce. There may be more that I'm forgetting. Pam will be putting up both letters on her blog. I would like to return and see them; I feel naturally close, and it feels important and powerful, and it was nice to see Michael's personality and memories still shine through.

Monday, December 5, 2011

At Carolina Beach August, 2010.

Rania Salem Manganaro


About Michael.  I don't have any particular memories to share that are any different than the ones that you [Lisa Salem] might remember.  For example, going to his house on Halloween after Thomas burned his foot...or his true care and compassion towards me while I was experiencing my unfounded fears while canoeing.  The treasure of receiving a series of golden paged encyclopedia books.  Tales of faraway lands.  

Most importantly though, I'd like to emphasize the lasting impact Michael had on me (and Anthony and Thomas) through the fact that when I think about him I am overcome with the largest swell of warmth, joy, and trust.  The rarest thing is that Michael, as an adult, treasured us (Anthony, Thomas, and Rania) as--what seemed to us like---friends.  I always remember thinking of Michael as an owl.  This wise and powerful force, sometimes cooky and awe-inspiring, but a staple to our household.  The ease, pace, and patience to which he carried himself has left a lasting affect on me.  As I grew older I began to realize that these qualities are rare for adults.  Maybe growing up I didn't even see Michael as an adult...but just..."a michael".  And I continued to see all those qualities, with Pam and Alex and Jacob throughout our time together.  I think when kids are growing up, one of the greatest tragedies is a lack of encouragement and acknowledgment of fears...but Michael would come over to play with us, or read with us, and open our minds in one way or another testing and encouraging the boundaries of a our imagination (obliterating any fears of "failure").  Michael.  Adventures.  Storytelling.  FUN!  And look at us now.  Anthony, Thomas, and I's most important qualities sometimes seem to be those that were nurtured by Michael.  This urgency to play and explore and ultimately EXPERIENCE LIFE...FULLY.  Take it in and love it...all the details...from the grand stories to the little birds in the trees.  These are the things that shape people.  And I treasure it.