On what would otherwise be a pretty joyous occasion, the writing of my 101st blog post, instead I am here to mourn the passing of my Uncle Michael. He died yesterday evening at 9PM EST. It was 11AM here in Okinawa and I had a whole work-day to think about how I feel about it. (Well, I did have work to do too, but I thought about it an awful lot.) And I feel like I never really knew the man. That's what I feel like. I liked him, I loved him. He was family and in the Pitrones that means something and a half. But I guess I never knew him.
I remember that his coming, when I was little, was the first time anyone explained what being gay was to me. (And thanks for that one, Tom. It would have been uncomfortable except that I had no concept of it at all. I thought it was yucky. To this day I think that it is kind of yucky, but I suppose that my way of doing things seem pretty yucky from the other side of the fence. As Stephen Fry has said, "When I was born I took one look at my Mother's birth canal and said to myself, 'That's the last time I go in there.'")
He was cool, though. He read a Return of the Jedi book to Frank and I, even though Tom would NEVER read that book to us. He was funny, and I just liked him.
Then I didn't see him for a long time. That was kind of a hallmark of my relationship with the man. There would be long time periods where I didn't see him. I'd hear from him now and again, mostly about him, I guess. But no contact.
Anyways, all this to say that I will miss him.
I started a website in his honor, for those that are interested and want to go it is at michael.pitrone.9f.com
If you have anything to add, please add it there.
12 comments:
He was one of the only people who came to visit me when I was in the Marines. I brought him along with Grandma, Aunty Andy, and possibly Fran (though I can't remember) onto the Defense Language Institute Army Base. It was an interesting day.
Sadly, I never really got to know him. I'd have really liked to.
Hi, I'm your cousin Ellen - Uncle Pete's daughter. I am very sorry that you lost your uncle. He was such a cool guy! When I was a child, we used to go to your Grandpa Frank's house and have picnics. We would play in the pond and just hang out as a family together - all of the cousins from Uncles Carmen, Joe, John, my dad, your Grandpa, and Aunt Mae would come out too, sometimes. We had a blast together. Michael moved away when I was still very young - around 9, I think - and way before I understood what it means when someone moves away . . . I have such fond memories of your Uncle Michael. He really was wonderful. I love the picture of you and he on your blog. He used to wear his hair much longer back in those hippie days! He had a lot of it!
It's hard to lose a family member, no matter how well we knew him. I feel really sad today about his passing. He was a part of all of us, I guess. Family. And you are right about how we Pitrones feel about family. There's a lesson here for all of us. I'm not missing it, and I hope you're not, either.
Much love to you, my fellow Pitrone, although we've never met.
Ellen
Our uncle Michael was one of the most amazing men I have ever known. He lived in the moment more than anyone I've ever met. He made you feel like you were the most important person in the room when he talked to you. He revealed himself without imposing himself. His giggle filled the space you shared with him. He was smart; he seemed to know about everything. He loved music and loved to share it. His generosity touched so many people. He loved life and found joy and humor everywhere he went. He paid attention to the little things in life and had a way of seeing grandeur in simplicity. His creativity was boundless. He was a prolific painter. He believed in the Saints and in miracles. He was deeply spiritual and a gifted psychic. He was sentimental and had a great gift for remembering. This made him a charismatic storyteller. He deeply loved his family and his friends and these two groups often overlapped; friends were family and family were friends. He loved cats and was an avid gardener. He loved the outdoors. He brought Greg into our lives which is a great gift. Together they shared a life filled with a deep love for one another, adventures, meals shared with family and friends, laughter, silliness, art, joy, sorrow, companionship and deep caring for one another. They shared a beautiful home which they both loved so much. I have powerful memories of good times with uncle Michael and even though there are far fewer than I had hoped for, I am so grateful for for each one of them and to grandma and grandpa for giving Michael to the world. I loved uncle Michael immensely. I will miss him very much.
I wonder what recollections you and Frank have from the time we stayed with Michael and Greg in San Francisco.
Two weeks ago today I spent the afternoon with Michael at his home. I was a client of his at Equivita. I absolutely adored him. There are so many things I wish I had discussed with him. I can't believe how close you can become to someone in a such a short period of time. Every other week I visited Michael for my massage. Our conversations were as healing as the massages. Maybe somebody can fill me in on his beliefs on reincarnation. My life is so much richer having known him. His loving client, Cindy in Columbus.
it has taken me a while to post a comment on this blog. had i done it earlier, it would have been backed by more intense emotions-and the anger i carried from the loss of michael may have spilled into what i'm about to write...
i just find it hard to believe that you could open a dialogue about how you felt about uncle michael, but open it by voicing your opinion that his "lifestyle" is considered "yucky." i find this offensive and i'm quite certain-if michael were alive-that he would have had something to say about it, too. (this conclusion is based on 1) knowing michael and 2) his retaliation the LAST time you posted your "opinion" on homosexuality.
i believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinions. but that you start a wonderful memoir of michael by stating something that just, for me, should not have been the opening to your desire to create a place for people to share their memories/photos of michael.
and then to read on that you were shocked and dissappointed that there wasn't more of a response to the webpage you created for michael...i found it almost condescending. like it was more about you than michael. please be aware that he is being celebrated in many, many ways. just not in your space.
i am not writing this to cause an argument. i love this family in every way, shape, form. i love that we can be open w/ each other about thoughts and feelings, discuss and move on. i hope all is well on your end.
we're off to celebrate "super michael sunday" in cleveland. wish you could be there...
love, Jen
Michael was my best friend, lover, and best friend for a short 36 years. I know he has plenty of others who loved him just as deeply.
He could see and hold a person for who they were, as long as that included honesty and compassion. Otherwise, he had no time for games or images if you didn't open your heart. I mean REALLY open it.
That said, Michael lived from deep spirituality, respecting the wisdom of the body, of emotions, and of amusement. I could call him up totally bereft over a spat or even the death of my husband, he'd listen to me cry, and a while later he'd have me in hysterics over the profound absurdity of life.
Michael taught me how to sing;. He put up with my rage when he brought his first male lover to the house we shared (he didn't like that I broke his favorite mug, but laughed for decades that I'd deflated his bike tires). He listened to me live and grow in love, work, relationships, marriage, and being a parent.
Bad days I'd call him several times, and yes, he got sick of me. We had honest arguments, including saying things to each other we'd prefer not to hear. Then laughing. And arguing. And laughing.
Michael, I miss you. I'm so glad you kept growing to be more of who you are, from flaming queen with glitter in your beard, to being a grown-up, to being clear about who you are to family, friends, and yourself. I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I'm still not ready to let you go. I love you.
Sondra (Sandy)
I am the client 2 postings above you. I'm thinking that you are the Sandy that Michael talked a lot about to me. I believe he had just recently visited you in Washington. He spoke very highly of you.
I guess you can't do anything right as far as some folks are concerned.
Outside of our immediate family, maybe no one realizes the Michael and Billy were the classic - Don't leave the baby alone with Uncle ______ - uncles.
I believe that’s how he was first introduced to you and Frank. How could that not color your recollection of him forever? And how is it your fault? If it’s a fault at all, it’s my fault. If I had to do it over again I’d probably do the same thing.
I worked in the same office with Michael in San Francisco. He was such a sweetheart, so cheerful and so spiritual. I'm really shocked that his family speaks so badly of him. He himself was not judgmental of anyone or anything.
Anyways, Thanks for writing this memorial for him. I know you Italians are just really open about your feelings and that's usually a good thing, but, man, you can be hurtful.
Michael lived in San Francisco when I became aware of his declaration of homosexuality. I didn't see him for a few years after that. I was living in a rural town, participating in a Christian community of a distinctly conservative stripe. I had lived in Portland, Oregon and NYC before that, so I wasn't unfamiliar with homosexuals. Kate had had some very close lesbian friends. But I had been away from anything like that for a long time.
When Michael came to visit, I didn’t know what to expect. Owen and Frank were maybe 11 and 9. I felt I had to prepare them for whatever was coming. So I gave them a pretty graphic description of the life-style as I was familiar with it. I told them I didn’t know what Uncle Michael would be like, that he was my brother and I loved him, but under no circumstances were they to leave their little brothers alone with him.
I can’t imagine what they were thinking when they met him. But almost immediately, I felt toward him as I had when we were kids together. I loved him. He was lots of fun to be with and I wasn’t afraid of what he might do.
Owen and Frank were still terrified to leave the little boys with him but not because of him. They were afraid of disobeying me. I eventually realized the problem I had made and released them of the responsibility. Michael developed a special relationship with Drew.
Michael and I later had great differences regarding spanking. Somehow, in the last few years, we got over that too.
I was very close to Michael when we were growing up until our early twenties. I will always love and cherish the time we spent together. He’s part of me and I cannot deny him. Though we weren’t close in later life, I always looked forward to seeing him. I was delighted that we could laugh together and love each other like kids.
I miss him and I hunger for him now.
The only really upsetting thing here is just finding out this May of 2014 that Michael is long gone. We had lots in common. For one thing, we both came from big Italian immigrant families. Michael was very important to me and a good influence to boot. As a gay man with 14 nieces and nephews, I've worried that homophobia (other people's unreasonable fears) would get in the way of being a good uncle. If Michael is in a place to watch over us I'm sure he is understanding and forgiving. He was a wonderful man but not a saint. It's strange to be writing this. It's likely no one will ever see this since the creator of this blog has moved on. This is just one of the wierd things about the internet. i will have to write about Michael somewhere else. I hope you forgave me my hurtful actions. I forgive you dear man and I remember all the good times. With love, Joe Balestreri
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