Papa

11 years have come and gone. Michael Martorana, the anchor of my family, the man who was admired and loved by everyone he came in contact with, was taken from us on this date in 1998. Thanksgiving time always reminds me of this, though this year seems to be resonating with me more. That may be because it's the first time that the anniversary has fallen on a Tuesday since the original day. That also happened to be 2 days before Thanksgiving. Or maybe as the problems that a certain sector of my family continue to fester, so does my yearning for my Papa to set it straight. There is no doubt in my mind that he would not have stood for the things that have caused this rift.

Enough of that- onto the happy memories. My grandfather was a giving person- he not only worked for the same company (Acme Supermarket) for 40 years, he volunteered his free time to his local playground (where he cooked, supervised kids, and kept St Anthonys Park running like a fine-oiled machine), his church, and his family. He loved his grandkids like nothing else, making sure we were always taken care of. And his love of sports- going to Yankees and Phillies games with him, watching football with him on Sundays- was a huge influence on me and who I am today. (see here for my last trip to Yankee Stadium and more about my grandfather)

Time heals these things, but only to a point. The dull pain that you feel about someone you have lost never quite leaves you. And I think that's probably a good thing- keeps us human. At least we had the time we did with someone so special, and those memories that can never be taken away.