The Walk

And, so we walked. The beautiful weather was our friend- there is something wonderful that nice weather does to your system. When the weather cooperates, then all is possible. It wasn't that much of a burden, the walk. I joke around a lot , but, the three miles was very doable. I had my sister by me and my cousin Joe. Together, we all joined family arms to pay a little tribute to Brother Tommy.... My cousin Joe Bersani is a guy you want in your life. Smart, strong [ both physically and emotionally ] with the twisted sense of humor that flows from both sides of the family. Joe will always be there for you, it is in his DNA. All my cousins and their spouses and children possess this trait. As does my sister Lisa and I. We all come from good genes, so, being there for each other is part of our souls, just like breathing in and out. Joe was representing that side of our family. There was a family engagement party that kept more of the family from showing up. Make no mistake, these people are as strong a support system as there ever has been. Countless times they are there. When you walk through life with family-- and, a few good friends--- beside you, NOTHING else matters. They are the core of the spirit of life.... This spirit was hovering around us in the walk. Lisa came across this event a few years ago, but, circumstances only allowed us to join the movement this year. Lisa told me about it a couple of months ago with a little hesitation on her part. She knows how I am about many charities. I have an old friend who had a nasty run in with the Salvation Army years ago. The stories I heard about their dealings-- along with post 9/11 stories about where the victims families money went--- has left a bitter taste in my mouth. But, what made this particular organization attractive to me was that no money was to be exchanged if you didn't want it to. The walk was free, beverages and momentos were also on the house. You can donate if you feel like it. We did.... Lisa and I drove to Libertyville early Saturday morning. The location was a beautiful park, with the extraordianry beauty of a lake and footpaths as its layout. We got there early and noticed that the street that the park was on is called Des Plaines Ln. Being that this is our hometown name it was a nice omen if you look for signs like this [ and, I do ]. Already, many hundreds of people were gathered. Many teams had multilple members, and, right away, both Lisa and I made the joint decision that if this goes well, then next year we will have a big team. Lisa and I were dressed for the walk comfortably. We noticed that most of the walkers--- now, these are survivors of suicide victims, remember--- had the names and pictures of their loved ones on their shirts. This was the saddest and most sobering moments of this event. Our brother killed himself at 33, a young age, to be sure, but, he did live many great and happy moments in that short time. The pictures and ages we saw on these peoples shirts brought us to our knees. Children. Teenages. Adults. Lisa saw a shirt of a mature woman who must have had her husband on it. This woman was crying for him. My sister and I had tears in out eyes for these people. Especially, for the children. One shirt I saw was a child that had to be no older than ten years old. How and why the victims did what they did, of course, I do not know. They all have their stories, and, until they openly tell their heartbreak, then it remains private, as it should be.... We registered and then waited for our cousin. Walking around the tents and tables we came across two tables that we stopped at. One was a table of rememberance beads. They were different colors, each one representing your relation to whom you were there to honor. Our color was orange for a sibling. We got blue for Joe because he was a cousin. Then we stopped at a table with small rocks. Lisa wrote a little message on the rock for Tommy. It was expressing our love to him and how we missed him. The beads went around our necks and the rock went in the pocket, to be thrown at a later time.... Joe joined us and we hugged and kissed. My family is a combination of Irish, Italian, German, and French, so, you know that there is a lot of passionate expression of love when we all meet. After Joe checked in, we walked a little about the park waiting for the official start. With family comes the familiar stories of our history. We talked about our departed parents and how proud we were that we were so lucky to come from them. We talked about the craziness that joined our mothers, who were sisters, at the hip. And, the sweet goodness that came from them and our fathers. Tommy and his exploits were mentioned. Many families would tiptoe around the sensitive issue of his death. Not my family, we address the elephant in the room. It has been seventeen years since that horrible day, but, as in all deaths that touch the heart, somehow, it still feels very recent.... We were getting a little antsy. The start time seemed to take forever. I guess other people felt the same because a group of, maybe, twelve, just took a path and started walking. The three of us followed. As we started, I looked up and said, ''This is for you, Tommy!!''' Soon, I looked back and, by now, it seemed a good thousand people or more were joining us. We continued to talk among the three of us about this and that, but, I also detached myself a little in my mind. I was thinking about Tommy. I had this image of him in Heaven looking down. I felt him smiling that wonderful smile of his. The weather was perfect, but, I felt the warmth coming directly from him. That warmth and smile was a nice feeling, a comfort. I also smiled internally myself because I know he was laughing that his little brother was sweating for him [ we fought a lot through the years ]. I silently, and, with good humor, answered him. My answer was, ''You got me exercising for you, you son of a bitch!!!'''..... The walk was nearly over when we stopped at a bridge. We only had a short distance to go, but, it was time to throw the rock. Lisa gave it to me and I tossed. Not the best throw in the world, I grant you. I always had a weak throwing arm. My cousin teased me, ''You know, Jimmy, Tommy would have tossed that across the lake!!!''' We laughed and stood silent for a moment and watched the ripples from the rock hitting the water. The ripples expanded, as they always do, until it filled an area. I thought, somehow, the ripples were touching Tom somewhere. They were sending our love to him. Then, we turned and finished the walk.... When it was over we felt good. No major achievement had been accomplished. Just a little walk for our lost brother and cousin. He would have done the same for us, I know. We took Joe to lunch to celebrate and to say thank you. The talk at the table turned to familiar everyday life stories. It shows again how life goes on. You honor and remember and shed a tear or two, but, you go on. We are survivors in my family, I am proud to say. We go on.... And, my brother, after he watched us do the walk with love, strolled to the plate in whatever baseball game he was playing in Heaven. My parents were in the stands watching him, along with my beloved Aunt Gloria and Uncle Joe..... And, I know Tommy hit a homer.....