Remembering Umberto

It was this time of year 3 years ago I got a phone call from my oldest brother Vic. He is a nurse and at the time he was working in a local hospice program. It seems he had a patient that was up from Argentina and Vic needed someone to translate Spanish for him and Umberto so Vic called me.
I arrived at Umberto's apartment several minutes before Vic. I introduced myself and made inquiries as to what Umberto did (furniture construction), where he was from (a small town in Argentina), why he was here in America (he came for work opportunities to send money home), his family (he was married and had a 5 year old daughter he hadn't seen in 4 years).
When Vic arrived he got right down to business after shaking hands and making sure Umberto and I had met.
"Umberto, you have cancer" Vic said.
I was suddenly shocked but relayed the message to Umberto. He didn't looked surprised or shocked and took the message without a change in emotion. He replied he had felt very poorly for quite some time and knew something was wrong with him.
As we made further conversation we learned Umberto had come into the country illegally and as he had gotten sick, he stayed away from the doctors thinking that might be a situation where he was reported and deported back to Argentina. Because he had not gotten earlier medical treatment he was now in the late stages of cancer and Vic had to tell Umberto the conclusion was he had maybe 6 weeks or so to live.
This was a conversation that was very hard for me to pass on, as it made me very emotional and was a conversation I had never had to make in Spanish before.
Vic continued to ask Umberto what medications he was taking, who he had seen, how weak he was feeling now. Vic also passed on to Umberto what plans were being arranged for Umberto for the near future.
I was told to ask Umberto this next question...
"Do you want to die in Argentina with your family around you?"
It was a blunt enough question but it was the hardest question I have ever asked in my life.
Umberto said he did indeed want to get back to Argentina but he did not have any money to make the trip.
Vic replied back that over the weekend he would see what the hospice program and local people could do to help him. In the meantime he was to take the medicine Vic had brought along to ease the pain and other maladies Umberto was feeling. He was told we would be back on Monday after the weekend was over with results of help inquiries made in Umberto's behalf.
My thoughts and questions the whole weekend were of Umberto and his situation. Why couldn't he find work in Argentina? Why hadn't he gone to a doctor? Why this? Why that?...Just a myriad of questions to situations that each of us have as everyday blessings here in this great land of the United States.
On Monday Vic made arrangements with me to go talk with Umberto again. He said he had good news. We told Umberto all the funds had been raised to get him back to Argentina and he would be flying out in less than a week!
I was stunned and touched. Local people who didn't know Umberto at all had donated money for him. The airline had been called. Arrangements were being made. I was amazed at the goodness of people in my area willing to help a stanger in a difficult situation. At a time when illegal aliens were being pointed out, persecuted and shunned, unknown people were opening their hearts to a fellow brother and helping in his time of great need. As I passed on the news to Umberto I couldn't help but cry. He was not emotional but responded with a simple thank you.
Vic also had to tell Umberto because of his failing condition, there was a possibility he might die on the airplane during his flight back to Argentina so there were medical and legal things that had to be taken care of before he left. We told Umberto we would be back again with all the necessary arrangements before the week was over.
Several days later I met with Umberto for the last time. He was given an injection to thin his blood so he could withstand the air pressure change the airplane flight would bring. He was given a small mountain of medications to hold him through until he could see a doctor in Argentina. He signed several pages, one of which authorized the airline to contact his family should he die on the flight home to Argentina so they could come retrieve his body.....
I only met with Umberto 3 times but the entire situation has affected me greatly the past several years. How blessed I am to be able to see and enjoy my family everyday. How wonderful it is to live in a land where I have constant employment opportunities. What a great thing it is to be able to feel freedom from worry of wondering if some agency will become aware of my situation and send me away from my area when I want to stay....we all have so many things to be thankful for.
I remember Umberto during the Thanksgiving season. He did make it safely down into Argentina and was reunited with his family. He lived his last several days with family but also left a lasting impression on me. I hope his story can do the same for you.

Veterans Day...looking past Halloween

First, I apologize if this entry seems so long ,and secondly it seems self promoting, but I'd like to share a personal experience I had last Memorial Day weekend.I work for Albertson's (a national grocery chain) and it is a tradition at my store to allow veterans to set up a table at each entrance to sell their poppy buddies to raise funds for the VFW on patriotic holidays.The gentleman who manned one of the the tables is a frequent customer of our store and reminds me much of my own father in his appearance and demeanor. As I had several opportunities during the day to stop by his table and see how he was doing, we made small chit chat. I told him my father served in World War II and in the Korean conflict. I told him we could never get him to talk much of his battle experiences, but he would always warm up when we asked of his poker experiences with war buddies or different social interactions with them. "I know exactly his reasons why too" was the reply. As the day wound down and it was time to fold up the tables this veteran went to get some food and personal items and then he came through my line to make payment. I totaled up his purchase and he pulled out his food stamp card a little embarrassed and entered the needed numbers to process the transaction. His purchase took his available funds down to zero and there was still a balance left which I informed him of. I could see immediately he was both embarrassed and troubled. He looked over the items to see which ones he should put back and told me he didn't have any other money for payment. I knew immediately it was close to the end of the month and his assistance funds were gone. This was Friday which left 4 more days in the month. It was also evident he had purchased the bare minimum needed to get him through the day...not the month. I reached into my pocket and said "Here, let me pay the difference for you. "No no, I can't have you doing that" came his reply."That's okay" I replied. "I do this once in awhile for my favorite customers." I was hoping he would let that suffice, but I could still see the hesitation in his face. The pride of a soldier who had been through much worse than this without any help."You can pay me back your next time in if you feel you must" I offered to him in the hopes of easing his angst of the moment."Okay, we'll do that" he said and I could see a little slumping of his shoulders at being less than a man in having to let someone else pay for his groceries. I told him he reminded me much of my own father, a veteran who had passed away last December, as I bagged up his groceries. He offered his condolences and I assured him our biggest concern was with my mother now that Dad had passed on. He flashed a sad smile and informed me his wife had died recently too, for which I offered my condolences. He also assured me his wife was in a better place as she had suffered greatly. For some reason I couldn't help myself. I pulled out my small wad of cash and offered him a $10 bill. He looked at me much confused and almost insulted. He could see I had chosen a $10 when I had some $20's available. I had quickly put him in my Dad's shoes. Twenty would be more than he would take. Five was less than he needed, there were 4 more days left in the month. It might just be enough.He looked around quickly perhaps as if wondering if this was a gag. Perhaps wondering who would see, I'm not sure. Then I said something to him I'm sure he already had heard."Peter Jennings said yours is the greatest generation that has ever lived. I owe you more than this. With that being said this noble man took the $10 and a tear started falling down his face which made me suddenly uncomfortable. I held out my hand for him to shake. He looked at me again with a questioning look on his face and I felt something more needed to be said."Thank you for being my father for the day" I said. Why I said those words I have no idea, but he took my hand in a strong grip and we both stood a little taller."God bless you boy" was about all he could choke out of his mouth. It sounded so strange to me as I am a gray haired man in my 50's."He has blessed me much, this is my way of trying to pay him back" was my reply.We both smiled at each other broadly, he turned and walked out of the store with an upright gait of a man who maybe was just a little more hopeful of the generation he had risked his life to preserve freedom for.This good man came back in again this last week to make arrangements to set up a table again for Veteran's Day poppy buddy selling.Please remember our beloved veterans as this special day arrives next month. I know through the passing of my father there are fewer and fewer of these great men at the end of each day.....