TO HAVE LOVED AND LOST...AGAIN.

Most of us are quick to agree that it’s “better to have loved and lost then never have loved at all.” While I know deep down it’s got to be true, I can’t help but question that now after the loss of 3 siblings and my father - all far too young and unexpected.

Dad, Don, Donna and Dan

I know there are countless beings in this world suffering the grief of loss as I type, and that my situation is far from unique.  In fact, it’s just one of life’s promises - impermanence.  I try with each loss to find meaning and I keep coming back to the same answer,  this word that I have such resistance towards - impermanence.  I know that death is something none of us really want to think about, yet so many of us get these unfriendly reminders. Saturday, February 21st, 6 months to the day of my father’s death, my beloved brother Dan gave me another one of those reminders.

Dan was the 3rd child among 6;  Don, Donna, Dan, David, Doug, Dana.  Over the years I have loved joking about this “D.A.F.” initial phenomenon that my father (Donald Allen Fuchs) created and how my sweet, tiny, quiet mother (Sandra Marie Fuchs) accepted with good humor her exclusion from this club.   Now with my father, Don, Donna and Dan all gone, the rest of us are left behind swirling in the painful haze of losing most of our family and that joke feels so far away from passing my lips again.  Maybe in time…(Impermanence.)

After the loss of my father last July, Dan became my mother’s faithful companion and chauffeur (sharing that honor with my brother Doug, his 17 year business partner who lives a bit further away.) Dan living so close to my mother was such a healing factor for her as a recent widow.  In fact, Dan texted me Friday night at 7:20pm all excited about the meal he was planning to make for her on Saturday.  (Dan was a bonafide “foodie” and an absolute master on the grill.)   He had already bought the rump roast from Winn Dixie, which he planned to put in the slow cooker the very morning he left us.  

My mother went to wake him for their shopping date Saturday morning and he was gone.  Peacefully and quietly in his sleep.  Remarkably, late that Friday night before, Dan suddenly decided he wanted to go to my mother’s house to sleep.  He phoned her to make sure she was awake and they spent the evening watching Jimmy Fallon and talking until almost 2am.   Somehow, I think he knew where he wanted to just “let go." He knew where he was most safe and loved, in the house where he grew up, in his first childhood bedroom, with his mother just down the hall.

I have had the great good fortune of sharing a special bond with each of my siblings.  Dan was the only one of the six of us who didn’t play an instrument or sing - but he LOVED music.  He made me appreciate Metallica years ago and I got him absolutely hooked on Tom Waits.   He also convinced me to watch Dexter, Shameless and Californication and I turned him on to the poet and author, Charles Bukowski, which seemed to spark the writer in him that none of us knew.  Only a few years ago and totally out of the blue, Dan he emailed me his first short story, “Sunday Morning Paper."  It was Bukowski, Waits AND Dan all rolled into one!  I was blown away.  His sense of humor was so devastatingly and hysterically dark and his writing so authentic and raw.  Just like him.

While working long hours as a contractor, baking in the hot Florida sun to provide for his wife and 2 boys, Dan began to put himself through college online and recently got his bachelors degree in criminal psychology (boy did that influence his comedically dark writing!)  He was the only one of us all to actually finish school.  He was so proud of that.  As were the rest of us.  Dan and I loved talking politics and shared pretty much the same ideals (albeit he a little more radical with his conspiracy theories!) Of the six kids he and I were the tallest and by far the loudest!  Think “Foghorn Leghorn” and you get the idea of Dan.  ;-)  

Throughout most of our childhood, I only called him “Daniel-son” a play on "Daniel-san" from the film “Karate Kid.” As we got older, I affectionately shortened that to just “Son” which is the only name I called him for more than 20 years.  (Often greeting him singing “Son Son Son Here We Come” to that infectious Beatles melody.)  ;-)

Dan was an avid yankee fan and I had the great joy of being able to take him and his wife Patty to Yankee Stadium just a few years ago.  

Dan loved NYC and Mexico City, where his wife Patty is from and where they travelled together several times.   

Dan was my first real fan, coming to all of my local Holiday Inn shows on weekends where I played with my first professional band at 16 years old.  I was so grateful for his company because the band members and audience were all triple my age and none of my friends were old enough to get in!   He wasn’t so into the music but he had a crush on a gal who was coming around. ;-)  In fact,  it was one of those shows where Dan met the sister of his bride-to-be who shortly thereafter introduced him to Patty.   Once they decided (via a Spanish/English translator) to get married I nominated myself as the wedding translator since I was just beginning to learn Spanish.  I butchered the language but at least got some laughs and props for my inflection.  

Dan loved cooking and he loved good wine.  He loved being with family and commanding the room with his loud colorful stories.  He loved impersonating people and had mad talents in that department.  He loved life, even when it “sucked."

When his boys were younger Dan devoted his much limited time to voluntarily coaching their little league teams.  Before that he was part of Habitat for Humanity where he voluntarily helped build homes for the poor and needy.   Before that he was on the volunteer fire department.  Over the years, he rescued dogs and took his 4th stray (JoJo) in just months ago.  He had a big, generous heart and it just gave out on him. 

"JoJo"

Even in death his generosity carried on as within a day, my mother received a call from the Lyon’s Eye Institute, letting her know with gratitude that Dan’s corneas would be giving sight to a blind person.  Dan was an organ donor.  Of course.

54 people signed the guest book at Dan’s last minute service held in our mother’s home on Wednesday - and there were even more in attendance.  Some I knew, some I didn’t.  ALL had the same thing to say about how Dan:  “he was always there for them”.  So many stories of Dan helping people through hard times.  

Stories I never knew and he never bragged about.  

My last days of hanging out with Dan were over the Christmas holiday in Florida, cooking every night at my mom’s with the family, laughing, playing black jack and reminiscing.  FINALLY without tragedy being the all-too-frequent impetus that brought us together.   

That’s when we made a pact to get together more than just once or twice a year and not just for the ongoing tragedies that kept forcing us to drop our busy lives and show up for each other.  

However, time does not wait for us to make time for what really matters.  

So I ask myself,  if it really is better to have loved and lost - knowing we eventually have to lose those we love - then what do we want our memories with them to be?  Filled with regret for not seeing them more?  An argument we never settled?  “Sorry, I can’t talk now?”  Time doesn’t wait.  

Impermanence is the one true promise of this life.  And yes that means nothing stays, but fortunately this includes the pain and sorrow as well.

For all of you who have loved and lost - my heart aches and celebrates with you.  May we continue to celebrate this life right now in this very moment.  I think I’ve decided that death is actually a friend for reminding us to do so.

So goodbye - just for now,  “Daniel My Brother… You’ll be the clouds in my eyes.”  

See you in the next life, Brother...

I will see the rest of you on the road that keeps bringing us together.

Love,

Dana