Category Archives: Family

It hardly seems possible, but my niece and nephew turn three years old today. I still remember the slightly rainy and overcast day they came into the world, knowing that they would change our lives in the best possible ways, turning this previously-child-unfriendly chap into a doting Uncle. They continue to be a bright spot for all of us – two little points of light that enthrall my parents in ways I never could. Happy Birthday Emi and Noah!!

God, kids get up early. And for what? They don’t have a job, they don’t even have to go to school at two years old, but still they’re up at the crack-ass of dawn, waiting for someone to join them. The problem is, when your fun Uncle doesn’t get to sleep until 2 AM because you’re screaming, he’s not going to be able to get up that early. That’s what Dads are for.

Give me a couple of hours to adjust to daylight, and then we can begin again.

That said, there’s no better way to greet the morning than with these two smiling faces.

Donning our pajamas (and a terry cloth robe I found in my childhood closet), we hung out on the couch for a Friday night in the same spot where we used to watch ‘The Dukes of Hazzard’, ‘Mr. Belvedere’, and ‘Dallas’. Tonight it was a DVD – ‘Adventures in Babysitting‘ – fitting for any number of reasons.

We had but one incident of trouble, when Noah looked at me out of the blue and said, “I will hit you.” Huh? What did you just say to me? “I will throw you in the garbage!” At that my brother started laughing, but while Fun Uncle may be fun, he doesn’t tolerate that type of talk. I told my brother to stop laughing, and I looked at my nephew and said sternly (in the unmistakably-non-joking tone that means serious scary business to children and adults alike), “Don’t ever talk to your Uncle like that. That’s disrespectful. Your Uncle loves you and would never say anything like that to you. You will never talk to me like that again.” And I took him into the other room for a time-out until he said he was sorry (all of about a minute.) We rejoined my brother and Emi for the movie, at which point he promptly told my brother, “I will throw you in the garbage.” Where did he learn that??? Needless to say, the second time-out was worse than the first, and I wasn’t the one giving it.

I’m told this was the result of not having a nap. (But I did have one!) Luckily, the rest of the evening passed without incident, and we watched the remainder of the movie in relative peace. It was one of the nicest ways to spend a snowstorm – memories of my childhood intermingled with the memories my niece and nephew may one day have of their Uncle.

(As for my wardrobe, Emi & Noah didn’t seem to mind, unlike the rest of you bitches that will no doubt come for me on FaceBook…)

Bringing it on home this weekend, I spent Friday night at my parents home, with my brother and the twins. When I arrived, the house was empty (I wanted to get there before Nemo hit) so I walked around in the quiet and surveyed what was happening to the house under the presence/pressure of the twins, starting with crayon on a number of doors.

Soon the twins returned, and it was time for a nap. That’s the kind of plan I can get behind, and I made the most of it, sleeping for about an hour and a half. Unfortunately, the twins did not follow my example, staying up with my brother and resulting in some crabbiness  later on. (Oddly enough, I can be crabby with or without a nap. I will say this: being awakened by the gleeful shouts of two younglings is much preferable to the shouts of an impatient husband.)

For dinner, I roasted some winter vegetables, and we had the asado that Dad had made earlier in the week. (Well, my brother and I did – the twins had a little rice I believe.) The light was growing dim, and the snow was starting to come down. It was time to get into our pajamas… and a robe…

This week we celebrated Dad’s being honored with a Medical Professional Excellence Award given by St. Mary’s Hospital. On a snowy night that also saw sleet and ice and frozen rain pour down from the sky, we traversed the back-roads of upstate New York to Johnstown, making a rather treacherous journey to see my Dad accept a long-overdue award for excellence (in a rare moment of acknowledging what a stellar career he’s had). It was well worth it.

Despite the weather, it was a great night, and it was good to see how many of his colleagues and friends turned out to help him celebrate.

Most of all, it was good just to spend some time with my family.

Today is my mother’s birthday, and we’ll be celebrating with a family dinner at our home later today. The menu is a robust lasagna, a side of roasted garbanzo, some greens & beans, and one of Andy’s Birthday cakes. I’m also giving her one of the best presents I’ve ever given anyone, and hopefully she’ll enjoy it as much as I think she will. Most mothers form the backbone of the family, and ours is no different. If there’s one person who has always worked to keep us together, no matter how wayward and wrong we were, it was, and remains, my Mom.

It couldn’t have always been easy for her – the lone female in a house of guys (though I did my best to help with the whole gay thing and all, which probably wasn’t the ameliorative prospect I thought it would be) – and surely she missed out somewhat on raising a daughter, but she never let that diminish her love for my brother and me.

Today she is still the person to whom I turn whenever I’m at a loss as to how to handle something, the voice of reason and reflection whenever I’m in doubt. Though our roles sometimes switch as we both get older, she’s still my Mom – and I’m proud to say I’ll always be a Mama’s Boy.

There is no better way to start off a New Year than with the hope and excitement of our littlest ones. Here are some photos of my nephew Noah and my niece Emi from New Year’s Day (with a special guest appearance from our littlest one of all, my cousin’s latest addition Phoebe!) It’s just enough to restore my constantly dwindling faith in the world.

One of the many things that has always struck me about my father was his disdain for Doctor vanity plates. All my speeding tickets and run-ins with the cops might have been somewhat easier had it been for a little ‘MD’ sign on the license plate. But my Dad was not that kind of doctor. He was never in it for the glory or the name or even the money. He had the old-fashioned doctor’s aspiration only to help and comfort the sick. Next month he will be honored by St. Mary’s Hospital with their “Lifetime Award for Excellence” – and it couldn’t go to a more deserving person.

It’s long over-due, as my Dad was one of the hardest-working and most dedicated doctors right up until his retirement a couple of years ago. Whatever shreds of humility and honor I have were instilled in me by his example. Any altruistic notion of goodness that resides in me was mostly his doing. He never complained about being awoken at 3 in the morning for an emergency call, or missing out on vacation days – his family did, but he didn’t. It was his vocation and calling, and the community of patients loved him for it. They saw a side of him that his two unruly boys didn’t always grasp, though as I grew up I understood more and more.

Recently, he stepped into a new role as Grandfather (or “Lolo”) to his twin grandchildren, and he might be just as good as that as he was at being an anesthesiologist. Congratulations to one of the most noble men I’ve had the privilege to know. (And I promise to wear something respectable to the Awards Dinner.)