Goodbye
I have a massive clear Ziploc bag from the early 80s that holds all the newspapers my parents have saved over the years. They start on December 7, 1941 when the Japanese surprised Pearl Harbor. Then on to Nixon resigning… Agnew resigning, the Moon landings, every instance of them in the paper (favorably and not) and, of course, every photo op they stole. There’s entire Time magazines in there from the 40’s and special pullout sections of Newsday every time a new Pope took over (Dad was Catholic so he had to save them for some reason). The treasure trove of history I hold in my hand is comforting as some of it has to do with me in a bygone era that I can only dream about again (ah, the innocence of growing up with a single-digit age in the 70s) and only wish for in death. As I lay bedridden in the early twilight of my life as this cancer steals my lifeforce, I only think back to those days I could run in the streets of Long Island and peek in the windows of the greasy pizza restaurants and blowing off Black Cat firecrackers in empty Coke bottles behind gas stations. I know I’ll never see the new Star Wars movie, enjoy the Yannetta family sauce recipe that goes back a few hundred years in Italy, or speaking to anyone who knows the family intimately (before my time–since they’re all long gone). We are much farther now away from 1980 than 1980 was to 1947. And believe me, I remember 1980 like it was yesterday. I didn’t much care for it. To life, I’ll say it’s been fun in places, but Holden Caulfield was right, almost everyone’s a phony. But now, my deceased Dad is telling me to just relax since I’ll be in a better place soon. Goddamn ghosts know everything. Hook a brother up with some lotto numbers? Yeah, I thought so. Phony. This is Robert M. Yannetta, permanently signing off. Love ya.
Anonymous
