Category: Family

As I sit here on my 39th birthday, I am contemplating life. It seems to go in phases doesn’t it, or rather in decades. You’re a child for ten or so years, then a teenager. Soon enough you’ve made it as a twenty something and then that pivotal thirty crops up. By then you feel just a little pressure…you’re not quite middle aged yet, but it’s just around the corner, so watch out. Before you know it the big four-o is looming. You reflect on your life and wonder ‘what the hell happened to my thirties?’ ‘What did I do exactly?’ You don’t even remember half your twenties, and it’s not just because of the alcohol consumption in college. Or maybe it is. Your childhood is so far away in the past it seems like a dream. A very nice one too! Ah to be a child again. But I digress.

When I was growing up I used to hear the phrase ‘life begins at forty’ and thought ‘man that’s a long way off’. In fact it seemed like a few lifetimes away. It’s amazing how it creeps up on you, isn’t it. I just hope and pray it’s all true.

I’ve got ONE year left…and the signs are there …so here we go… Thirty nine signs the big ‘four-o’ is coming.

You know you’re pushing forty when:
1. Your son asks “who’s Billy Ray Cyrus?”
2. You ask your kids “who the hell is Hannah Montana?”
3. Teenagers annoy the heck out of you!
4. You start eyeing the suspenders when you go shopping at Wal-Mart. The boxers look pretty tempting too.
5. You hear ‘Get into the Groove’ on the oldies station and remember dancing to it when it first came out.
6. You remember where you were when President Regan was shot.
7. You know what a Commodore 64 is!
8. You’re still happy with your cassette tapes… thank you very much.
9. You start going to more funerals than weddings.
10. In second grade you thought your teacher was old… now you are even older.
11. You remember life before cell phones.
12. You still use a VCR.
13. Grandparents don’t seem so old…you’ve met Grandparents your same age.
14. You never thought you’d see the day when a black man and a white woman were fighting for a presidential nomination…how old is McCain again?
15. Your wife’s co-worker says she was only 8 when 90210 was on TV…after doing some simple math you realize you’re 14 years older.
16. A good night on the town means eating out.
17. When they find out your age young people say ‘I didn’t know you were that old.’
18. You start hanging round with sixty year olds so you can feel like the young one of the group.
19. Family members start saying annoying things like ‘you’re not getting any younger.’
20. You start seriously thinking about the pension plan you haven’t got.
21. You start complaining that the music your neighbors are playing is too loud.
22. You’d just as soon have cereal for dinner.
23. You remember when you had three television stations to choose from and they all went off the air at night after playing the national anthem.
24. You just can’t stay up all night drinking any more…and show up for work.
25. You start thinking that maybe you need to act more responsible and mature.
26. You fall asleep during movies.
27. You start saying things like ‘when I was a kid, things were different’ or ‘kids today have it easy’, and ‘we had to walk to school…and back.’
28. You think today’s music is crap, just like what your dad said about any music you listened to that wasn’t Country.
29. You remember when all kids played outside…where are they now?
30. Someone offers you a seat on the bus. And you don’t refuse.
31. You start paying attention to the medical ads on television.
32. Step one of any exercise program begins with ‘get off the couch’.
33. The grey hairs begin to outnumber the black hairs.
34. And you pray that the grey ones won’t fall out.
35. You have more in common with your parents than you do with your kids.
36. First thing you do in the morning is the obituary column, and if you name isn’t there, you get out of bed.
37. You lived through the Eighties the first time around, which means today you’re wise enough to avoid hideous style revivals like luminous clothes, jump suits and leg warmers.
38. You are no longer carded when you purchase alcohol
39. Paul Newman movies start to make sense.

They say when people die, they go in three. For me, the three who recently passed away, never knew each other, in fact one, never even met me. But all three has some level of impact on me and who I am today.

The first person to pass away was Meet the Press moderator Tim Russert. This was an unexpected death that caught America off guard. Tim was one of the few on-air talent who you could watch and actually learn something. Most interviewers I watch have their own agenda and their interviews tend to come off very bias. CNN and FOX are both guilty of this and, at least for me, makes me change the channel faster than a gas station attendant changing the price of gas on a billboard. (yeah, that is pretty damn fast).

Perhaps this is why folks tend to feel disassociated with many of the political driven shows. Whatever happened to unbiased interviewing? I think the only one left now with any creditability is Larry King, and from the looks of him, he’s not far from joining up with Tim.

Getting back to Tim, he was one of those interviews who weren’t afraid to ask the hard questions, no fluffball questions from him. But what made it truly unique is that he let the person answer the question that he asked. How many times have you watched an interview and the interviewer interrupted the person answering the questions before allowing them to fully answer the question? To me that is just plain disrespectful. If you are going to ask a question, at least give the person the chance to fully answer the question. You can always rebut after they are finished.

I see myself a lot in this manner. I am not afraid to ask the hard questions, when I feel they need to be asked. People do need to be accountable for their actions and if they say something they should stand by their words. This, my friends, is what we call integrity. I have much more respect for someone who is honest with me than someone who tells me what they think I want to hear. I know that life is about differences and it’s okay to agree to disagree.

Let’s hope that in death, Tim will become a model for other interviewers and moderators. Then perhaps Americans will turn the channel from watching crappy shows like “Desperate Housewives” and “SwingTown” and begin to be more involved and educated in the Politics of America.

The second person to pass on was Ann Kittredge, mother of Dan Kittredge who happens to be married to my Aunt Lilly thus making him my Uncle. Ann, for those who have not had the opportunity to meet her, was a woman who loved her independence. When I met her in 2000, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. Although she was disabled, she got around by pushing a cart in front of her. But it was her constant smile and positive outlook on life that really set her apart.

This cart of hers that she pushed around always contained an assortment of goodies. Foremost of which were doggy treated for Uncle Dan’s three legged dog, Coco. It was a happy day for Coco when ever Ann came to visit. Her cart also contained gifts and cards for who ever was celebrating a special occasion such as a birthday, an anniversary or, baptism.

What struck me as unique about Ann was her ability to be interested in just about any topic. She was able to talk about anything and if she didn’t know she wasn’t afraid to ask. Perhaps her knowledge of life came from her love of books. I doubt I will ever meet anyone who enjoyed reading more than she did. Whenever I took my boys by to visit her house was overfilled with all sorts of books and it wasn’t uncommon for her to be reading two or three books at a time.

She appeared to be a very good listener, I say appeared because her hearing was not the best and I think at times that she just smiled and nodded in hope that the talker wouldn’t feel put off.

My dad commented to me recently that Ann appeared to be more interested in learning about others than she was in letting others know about her. One could argue that she did this in order to keep others from knowing more about her, but I suspect it was her way of making the other person feel special. There is a secret, if you will, in getting other people to feel better about themselves. People love to talk about themselves and if you can get some to talk about themselves and their experiences, they will warm up to you very quickly and leave with a better impression of you.

I think it was her independence or reluctance to rely on others that lead to her death. It is sad really, since she had much more life to live. The medical conditions that led to her untimely death could have been prevented had she allowed those close to her to intercede. I know that both my wife and I were planning on visiting her when she was released from the hospital. So you can imagine the surprise we got upon learning of her passing. We never did get that chance to see her. She died before being able to see our youngest son. She adored our older two boys and always sent cards to them on their birthdays with something special inside, usually money or a savings bond.

Our youngest is turning one next month and, perhaps as a final goodbye, Ann had left a birthday card for Jordan to be mailed out next month. Right now it is sitting on our piano waiting for Jordan to turn one. It will be sad opening the card, but I know that the joy and love that Ann had for our kids will be contained inside the card until it is opened and then it will be released for all to enjoy.

I would be amiss if I didn’t tell at least one Ann story. Ann always had a fascination for money. Not so much for creating wealth but more about the history and uniqueness of it. On one occasion she had given me a card for my birthday and told me I couldn’t open it until then. Since I was flying back home to Oregon, I placed the card in my carry-on luggage without a second thought. That was, until I went through security where I was flagged for carrying an unknown object. The TSA folks took a thorough looking into my carry-on to find out what this object was. It turned out to be a silver dollar encased in a plastic box complete with a letter of authenticity. I guess my birthday came early that year.

The last person in this trilogy to pass away was my favorite teacher in high school, Larry Larson. I suppose he wasn’t my favorite while in high school but in retrospect he was probably one of the best high school teachers one could ever had. I had him for two classes, accounting and business law. It was in business law that for the first time I discovered my true ability to learn. While I did make honor roll in high school I was by no means at the top of my class. Extracurricular activities such as sports, band and taking care of things at home often took president over studying. However, to pass Mr. Larson’s class one needed to study and be prepared for class the next day.

Mr. Larson had an uncanny way of calling on one of his students to answer a question. He never looked directly at you. In fact he would look directly at another student when he asked you a question. Suffice to say, it was always a good thing when he was looking at you. I am pretty sure I wasn’t his favorite student, but I have no doubt that I was one of his most memorable students. I think I may still hold the record for most questions asked in his class. I guess it was my way of testing him to see if I could get him to break. Inadvertently, I suppose, it was my asking all those questions that actually caused me to learn the subject matter. So much so that when I competed in Future Business Leaders of America competitions, I won in the area of Business Law. I did so well that I found myself competing in the national level in Cincinnati. While I didn’t win at the national level, it was nice to know that I was one of the top students in the nation when it came to business law. Not bad for some little bastard half-breed kid from a Podunk town in the middle of Oregon.

I guess it was around that time that I felt that there was something more to life to learn and while it wasn’t easy making the transition from high school to college, I was able to get three degrees over a ten year period, mostly by asking ton’s of questions to my professors and bugging them to no end.

One thing that stood out about Mr. Larson, apart from the fact that he was colorblind (which opened large doors for those who loved to play tricks on him i.e. painting his podium a bright orange) was his foresight to understand that most of what we need to learn in life isn’t taught in regular classes. He was the first one to address death and how to deal with it. For many of us in his classes, death was not something we had to deal with; after all we are teen agers and were going to live forever.

During that week that he taught us about death and the stages of grieving thank in part to Elisabeth Kübler Ross, most of us learned skills that would prepare use for the inevitable. Sadly a week after our graduation one of our classmates dies in a head on car crash. For me as an EMT and being on the first ambulance to arrive and the one to identify her, death, it seems was not so distant. I know that what helped many of us deal with this sudden death was our ability to recognize the stages and use the skills that Mr. Larson taught us just weeks before.

Over the ten years that I spent as an EMT, I experienced death first hand in many forms. What was hardest about it for me was not seeing the person who died, but seeing the people who were directly or vicariously affected by the death. Observing how loved ones reacted to the death is not an easy thing to behold, especially if the death was unexpected, which tended to be the case in the Indian Reservation where I worked. I only wish that more students would learn about death and dying in high school. If they have time to teach our kids on how to have safe sex I’m sure they can make time to teach them on how to deal with death.

So I take my hat off to Mr. Larson and quietly say a quick thank you as I remember him and his love of the classroom. I only wish that more teachers, especially English teachers, had the passion and love for teaching that he had and made it a point to challenge their students.

…..Rest in Peace Tim, Ann and Larry, You will be missed.

Today is Memorial Day, Formerly known as Decoration Day, it commemorates U.S. men and women who perished while in military service to their country. First enacted to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War, it was expanded after World War I to include casualties of any war or military action.

Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery.

Growing up in Central Oregon, Memorial Day, much like Veterans Day, was just another holiday that gave us a day off from school and a chance to play outside, have a BBQ or go camping in the woods. It really held no significance to me at the time since we didn’t really have or know of anyone who perished while serving their country.

Fast forwarding to today, a lot has changed since the 1980’s. The biggest change in my life is arguably the locating of my birth families and discovering the legacy they have left behind. My grandpa, who just turned 91 years old this year, is a former Filipino Scout and US Army Captain. He was a POW during WWII and part of the atrocious Bataan Death March where he was able to escape with his life, but not after witnessing his two brothers succumb to death at the hands of the Japanese. He was also a part of the Korean War where he served on behalf of the US Army based out of Fort Hood, TX.

My grandpa had 8 children, seven girls and one boy, the oldest name Eulalio Arzaga Jr. who was born on April 9, 1942, ironically this was the same day that Japan invaded the Philippines. After General McArthur liberated the Philippines, many Filipino solders, including my grandfather was absorbed into the US Army. In 1951, along with his wife and now 5 children, they came to the US through San

Francisco and made their way to Camp Campbell in Arkansas where they stayed briefly before moving to Killeen Texas, home of the largest Army base in the free world, know as Fort Hood.

While growing up in the military town of Killen, Eulalio Jr., or Junior as he was known to everyone (expect his sisters who knew him simply as brother) aspired to serve his country and opted to join the Air Force after graduating from the University of Texas. While in the Air Force he rose to the level of Captain where he was a pilot with the 86 MAS out of Travis AFB. This was during the Viet Nam war and he spent much of his time flying between Vietnam and the United States.

Tragedy struck on November 25, 1970 when Ely’s plane, a F-4 Phantom, malfunctioned while landing and he was ejected from the plane killing him upon impact. He was flown back to Killen Texas and laid to rest by his parents and 7 sisters. His name, along with 12 others from Killeen who died during the Vietnam War was added to a memorial honoring the brave solders from Killeen who died serving their country.

11 months before his untimely death, Junior became a father of a baby boy. He was not aware of the actual birth as the mother, a nurse in the Army who was to be wed to him, got cold feet and called the wedding off. She then traversed her way up to Oregon where she gave birth to a boy who was immediately given up for adoption.

After his death, Junior’s sisters began a nationwide search for the runaway bride in hopes of tracking her down and locating the child that she gave birth to. Unfortunately for them their leads never panned out and they were unable to locate her.

Fast forward 30 years later to Oregon, where the voters approved a bill that allowed Adoptees access to their pre-adoption birth certificates. Junior’s son, being one of the adoptees was able to obtain his pre-adoption birth certificate. Regrettably it only contained the name of his birth mother as the birth fathers name was left blank. To keep a long story short, he was able to track down his birth mother and subsequently track down his birth family on his father’s side.

It was a glorious and bitter sweet reunion when the long lost son reunited with his birth fathers family. He was able to finally reunite with his Filipino family who embraced him with arms wide open. It was especially memorable for Eulalio Sr, who has lost his only son in the Viet Nam war to be reunited with a grandson. For you see, at this time, there was no one to carry on the family name as both of his brothers died in the Bataan Death March and his only son died on Thanksgiving Day in 1970.

It was during this reunion, that Junior’s son, along with his birth mother, was able to finally visit his father’s grave site. This was the first and last time the three of them would ever be together.

As you probably know by now, the boy who was born to Eulalio Jr., the one that Junior’s sisters spend countles

s hours search for, the only one who could carry on the family name is me.

I still remember the day that I found my birth family only to learn that my father died when I was only 11 months old. It was a day of mixed emotions. I had finally found my family, only to discover that my birth father, the person I most wanted to meet and talk to, was dead. It wasn’t until I visited his grave site that the full impact of my emotions hit me. It felt good to cry that day, something I don’t often do. There are so many questions I would have liked to ask him and stories I would have loved to hear from him. For just one moment I would have loved to see his face and his smile as he gazed upon me. To have him hold me in his arms to let me know how much he missed me and how happy he was to finally meet me.

But that will never happen. The cold reality is that he has passed on and as he lays next to his mother in a cemetery in Killeen Texas I am comforted by the fact that he is survived by 6 sisters and one terrific father (and one run-away bride) who have been able to tell me stories about him.

So on this day, Memorial Day, I set aside time to think of the father I never met, who unselfishly gave his life for this country. Thank you for protecting my country and thank you for giving me life. I will always miss you.

I love you.

Joseph Roley-Arzaga Sr.
Memorial Day, May 26, 2008