How Old Will I Be?

Posted on 2008-12-04 by admin

Update, Friday, December 5: Blog Widow John and I originally had reservations to fly down and visit my parents Wednesday, December 3, two days ago. Last Friday, while celebrating Thanksgiving with my sister and her family, I got the call that my Dad was back in the hospital, this time for the last time. His kidneys had failed and he was on palliative care, only oxygen and painkillers (hydromorphone/Dilaudid). My sister and flew down first thing the next morning; John joined us on Sunday. My father’s heart stopped at 5:15am on Monday, December 1.

I read this at his memorial service yesterday, December 4, the day after we had hoped to begin our visit. I should have introduced this as, “a reading from the Book of Jerry.” I was able to get through all of it without choking up until the very last line. I also read the eulogy I’ve been working on for months and finished during this hectic week.

He was a fan and regular reader of this blog, and wrote two other guest posts.

This is my father’s last, posthumous, guest post for this blog. The only edits here are for space, and one minor correction. I believe he wrote this in May of 2007, when his health and prognosis was already seriously downgraded. Still, he thought he might have years, not months, left.

Central display at his memorial service. The front of the chapel was filled with photographs and artifacts of his life.

I’m certain it’s true of all of us: as one approaches the end of life, we tend to review our lives and, perhaps, mend some broken fences or open the doors to reveal the family skeletons in our closets. In some cases, like mine, it is an attempt to get square with our Maker.

While disenchanted with the Holy Roman Catholic Church, I was too indoctrinated as a child to ever question the existence of God. Certain of the teachings of The Church I still hold to be absolute. Such as, the existence of Heaven and Hell. Not sure about Purgatory. It seems way too convenient to explain one of God’s great mysteries. Ah yes; the Sorrowful Mysteries and the Joyful Mysteries.

How convenient. [ala Church Lady]

Training and disillusionment have made me the believer I am today. That is, I believe in Heaven and believe I have never done anything bad enough to keep me from Heaven. I will go to Heaven. No question.

Now, about the details. How old will I be when I get to Heaven ?????

Will I be the age at which I pass this mortal realm only without the arthritis and other crap?

How about freezing me at one of the three greatest events in my life: my wedding and the births of my two children?

How long will it be before I get to meet God? He’s always very busy and there were billions before me.

I was promised a seat at His right hand. Maybe a glass of wine and a nice cigar.

I guess I will no longer need sustenance. Even so, will all my natural teeth come back? I get the idea, from paintings and such, that no one wears glasses in Heaven. If so, it is not a stretch to believe that all our ailments will be gone.

Okay, here’s a biggy: if I’m in that great physical condition . . . . what about (sh-h-h-h) S-E-X?? My wife will certainly be there so it’s legit. So we won’t be making baby angels. It’s still a privilege of marriage and He made it enjoyable.

What about the kids? What age will they be? If they continue to be healthy they might live way past the age at which I departed.

Socially, it’s a big tsimmis [fuss, bother]. Are we required to pay social visits to our 50,000 years worth of ancestors? Will Abraham even recognize me?

Conditions and environment. If the weather is always perfect, will I never again see a rainbow?

Mary and I like to travel. . . . .Where would we go?. . . . . Does one need a license to fish? . . . .What about the change of seasons? Do the trees change color in the Fall? Is there a Fall?

Music. There must be music in Heaven. After 10,000 years of Handel’s Messiah, will I be allowed to Rock and Roll? I would miss church bells and temple gongs if not available. And the sound of a train in the distance on a rainy night. . . . Rain?

Could we actually see the people on Earth and in Hell? I know I will have many, many friends in both places.

Some possible circumstances bother me. I know that my Agnostic friends will be shocked when they suddenly show up in your presence. They will be instant converts and therefore, probably a pain in the ass. All for the good. My Uncle converted from Lutheran to Catholic. My sister converted from Catholic to Jew. They were both real decent Human Beings and pains in the ass about religion.

BUT, how about my beloved Atheist friends? [Myself among them] Do they have a chance? They haven’t done harm to anyone and might have led otherwise exemplary lives. They just don’t believe in You. Will you give them the shock treatment like Agnostics with a chance to change? Or is it “get even” time where you thumb Your Nose and say “Nyahh-Nyahh” and open up the express Down elevator?

So much to learn. We’ll have to spend some time together, Lord, and work on the details.

I know my God has a sense of humor. He has often allowed me to poke fun at my religion at His expense.

But, just in case:
Oh my God I am heartily sorry for having offended thee. I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to confess my sins, do penance and amend my life. Amen.

I really believe in this part.

Eulogy
Gerard Kreussling, 1931-2008

Eulogy

Posted on 2008-12-04 by admin

What follows is the text of the eulogy I read at my father’s memorial this afternoon. I started writing it months ago. The first paragraph is a rewrite from my response to my father’s first guest post on this blog.

“To Dad, From Your Loving Family” My mother wants the roses. At least one of them will be dried for a memento box. The rest will be removed and worked into new arrangements for a nursing home.

I am grateful that I was able to have a relationship with my father. It wasn’t always so. There were decades of silence, and strained relations. I’m grateful that we both lived long enough to heal and grow, independently and together, to allow us to enjoy each other’s company. I’m grateful for the friendship we shared, as two grown men with a unique bond and shared history. I am also proud of him. I’m grateful that I’m able to feel all this, and know it, and celebrate it. And him.

I want to honor the complexity of my father’s life. My father was not a perfect man. I’m not proud of him because he was perfect. I’m proud of him because of how he grappled, throughout his life, with his imperfections, to become the man he always wanted to be. I was not proud of his alcohol dependence; I’m proud of his recovery from it. I was not proud of his homophobia. I’m proud that he overcame it so, that he accepted my partner, John, as his own son.

There is so much of him in me. We shared the same dark sense of humor. I thank him for my full head of hair. There is also our love of nature, animals and babies; love of science, engineering and computers, and space; love of photography, theater and music; the desire to connect with and contribute to our communities; and endless curiosity about the world. There’s so much of him in me, that it will be a long time before I can accept that we will never have another conversation, share another bad joke, exchange another email or photograph, share another hug.

Laurie Anderson said, “When my father died, it was like a whole library had burned down.” My image for this comes from the end of the film, “The Name of the Rose,” when the monastery tower goes up in flames. I feel like the monk, portrayed by Sean Connery in the film, staggering out of the smoke and ash, clutching a few smoldering volumes to his chest.

Stories:

Checkers
Bullfrog
Deer throat
Gliders and flaming hot-air balloons
Coin collecting
Rocket launches
Stingray on the St. John’s
Vibrating beds
My first camera
Community theater
CB radio

Gerard Kreussling, 1931-2008, 2008-12-01
How Old Will I Be?, 2008-12-04

Gerard Kreussling, 1931-2008

Posted on 2008-12-01 by admin

Update 2008-12-04 11:26PM:It’s the end of a long day of a long week. We fly back home tomorrow. I am both anxious to be home, and dreading leaving, as it will be one more reminder of the finality of death.

The memorial service was today. I published my reading of my father’s writing, How Old Will I Be?, and my eulogy, as their own posts.

Update 2008-12-03 10:50AM: His obituary appears in today’s Asheville Citizen-Times and Hendersonvile Times-News, the text of which I’ve added below. The memorial service will be held tomorrow at 1pm at Thomas Shepherd and Sons; they’re hosting an online register on their Web site.

Holding the hand of my father on his deathbed at Mission Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina on Saturday, November 29, 2008. He was on palliative care, only oxygen and pain medication to keep him comfortable. Except for a brief moment of recognition later that Saturday, he was already gone. His heart stopped at 5:15am this morning, December 1, 2008, after prolonged illness.

This image was used to illustrate the online article, From Pain to Palliative Care in the WBUR radio documentary “Quality of Death, End of Life Care in America”.

He went into the hospital for the last time on Friday. He was never alone. My sister and I flew down first thing Saturday morning. Blog Widow John joined us last night.

I’ll be staying in North Carolina through the week. We’ll be making arrangements this afternoon for a local memorial service later this week.

Here’s my Mom and Dad on the porch at Woodfield Inn in October 2006. We celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary there in the Winter of 2007. This is how I prefer to remember him, one of the last few times he was relatively free of pain and discomfort.

No more pain, Dad. No more pain.

Update: 10:51pm, December 1, 2008

Some closing thoughts at the end of a long day. My eyes ache.

In his will, my father directed us that his body should be “cremated without ceremony and dispersed into any river in the United States at some date agreeable to living relatives. A memorial ceremony of a non-religious nature may be held at any time.” We arranged the details of that memorial this afternoon when we met with the funeral home.

Earlier this afternoon, I helped my mother compose this email, which she sent out to “all our friends and family” for whom we had email addresses at the ready.

Needed to communicate this way because of all we knew and loved. Sad news. Jerry passed away this morning at 5:15AM at Mission Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina; our children are here and helping me with everything.

He had many illnesses this year but the most important one was that his kidneys were failing and he couldn’t take dialysis because of his low blood pressure. He was in Mission from Friday til this AM with palliative care giving him pain medication; his legs were very bad and his pain was intolerable. [He was never alone. One of us was always with him. My mother stayed with him Friday night. I stayed with him Saturday night. My sister stayed with him last night.] Karen [my sister] was with him at the last minute and we had gone to a “McDonald” type house to rest nearby. [The Lewis Rathbun Center, a wonderful place. Our stay there was thankfully short.] She called and we got there about 2 minutes too late. He had a lucid moment on Saturday and recognized both Karen and Chris and even called them by name. [The “brief moment of recognition” I mentioned at the top of this post. He did look at me directly and call out my name. My mother and sister had stepped out; we called them back. It seemed to me that he also recognized my sister, but quickly fell away from us again.] He is at rest now and no more aches and pains.

We will have a memorial service this Thursday, December 4 at 1:00 pm at the Thomas Shepherd Funeral Home, 125 South Church Street, between 1st Avenue and Allen Street in Hendersonville, North Carolina. Per Jerry’s wishes, there will be no viewing; he will be cremated and his ashes will be scattered at a future date. There will be a notice and obituary in the Asheville Citizen-Times and the Hendersonville Times-News tomorrow and Wednesday.

In lieu of flowers, you may make a donation to the Mineral and Lapidary Museum of Henderson County, 400 North Main Street, Hendersonville, NC 28792. Their phone number is 828-698-1977. [My father was a founding member of the museum. Some of his contributions are in their display cases. He remained active to the end, as his health permitted.]

Update 2008-12-03: Obituary

Hendersonville – Gerard “Jerry” Kreussling, 77, of Hendersonville, died Monday, December 1, 2008 at Mission Hospitals after a prolonged illness.

A native of Brooklyn, NY, he was a prior resident of Florida and New York where he was very active in community theaters before moving to Hendersonville 16 years ago; the place he chose to live. He is preceded in death by his sister, Patricia Rubak and his loving uncle, Emil Kreusling.

He served in the US Army from 1952 to 1954 and was employed with Grumman Aerospace for 37 years.

He was a founding member and volunteer for the Mineral and Lapidary Museum of Henderson County. He also was a member of the Henderson County Gem and Mineral Society, local photography clubs, and volunteered with the Henderson County Sherriff’s Department.

He was a loving, generous, humorous, and gregarious person and will be dearly missed.

He is survived by his loving wife of 52 years, Mary Kreussling; a son, Chris Kreussling and his partner, John Magisano of Brooklyn, NY; a daughter, Karen Provinzano and her husband, Mike of Brick, NJ; two granddaughters, Michaela and Cassandra Provinzano along with several nieces and nephews.

A memorial service will be held at 1 p.m. on Thursday at Shepherd’s Church Street Chapel with the Rev. John Magisano officiating.The family will receive friends immediately following the service at the funeral home.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be sent to:

The Mineral and Lapidary Museum of Henderson County, 400 N. Main St., Hendersonville, NC 28792.

Thos. Shepherd & Son Funeral Directors and Cremation Memorial Center is in charge of arrangement. An online register book is available at www.thosshepherd.com.

Links

Mineral and Lapidary Museum of Henderson County
Lewis Rathbun Center
Obituary and online Guest Book, Thomas Shepherd & Son Funeral Directors
Obituary, Asheville Citizen-Times, 2008-12-03
Obituary, Hendersonville Times-News, 2008-12-03

‘Fantasticks’: Charm Major Asset, Theatre Review, p. 7, SUNY Stony Brook Statesman, V.17 n. 88, July 11, 1974 [PDF], a review of the Theatre North performance at the Setauket Holiday Inn. My father played one of the fathers in the play.

Guest Post: The Man From B.R.O.O.K.L.Y.N.

Posted on 2007-05-18 by admin

I received the following from my Dad this afternoon. I asked him for permission to share it here.

APOLOGIA: YOU WILL FIND “I” AND “ME” IN HERE OFTEN. That’s because my wife, who is also from Brooklyn does not agree with my outlook. These are MY opinions and do not mean I am insulting my wife or son or other Brooklynites and THEIR opinions.

I AM FROM BROOKLYN AND PROUD AS PUNCH !

(Nope, that’s not right. How about)

I AM FROM BROOKLYN AND PLEASED AS PUNCH !

(I’m still not getting my point across. Lessee)

I AM FROM BROOKLYN AND HAPPY ABOUT THAT !

I’m gone, by-bye, far away, moved. It took 65 years but no more $500 annual parking ticket budget, sky rats, strange people sleeping in the streets, passersby arguing with themselves and losing. No more rush hour, subway, shoulder to shoulder bustle and bump, “cleaning” windshields, strange green gobs of mucous on the sidewalk.

I was a Great Depression baby, born at home near the intersection of Myrtle and Decatur in Ridgewood. We moved to Queens early in my life but, same thing. Brooklyn was The City, just like Manhattan.

If you were a baseball fan, you had died and gone to Heaven early. A ten cent subway ride took you to the Wonderlands of Yankee Stadium, Ebbets Field and the Polo Grounds. I was not a fan.

No sense belaboring it: it was a nasty Era and life stunk. My Mom made me wear knickers and a beret !

Our electric was more off than on. Fridays were always cod fish cakes and spaghetti (Franco-American) night.

During WWII we also had Meatless Tuesdays. Not that we could afford meat anyway but it makes a good bitching point.

When I was married we managed to move out on “The Island”, first to Nassau county and then Suffolk.

From that point on I tried very hard to protect my kids from the Big Bad City. I didn’t want them to endure what

I had gone through. I was still too much a Dad to realize or even conceive that my kids could think for themselves and make decisions. Wrong again, and not for the first or last time.

My son moved first to Manhattan and eventually to Brooklyn where he has a 100 year old Victorian home.

The daughter is very happy with her family in New Jersey.

The son writes a well received and popular “Blog” about life in Brooklyn, especially gardening.

They’re happy, I’m happy. I miss them but not Brooklyn.

Here is a partial list of things I do miss: American Museum of Natural History; Coney Island Aquarium; MOMA; the Bronx Zoo; hot chestnut vendors; Horn and Hardart’s Automat; Charlotte Russe; Loew’s Valencia Theatre; Tony the Ice Man; Macy’s Christmas windows; Rockefeller Center at Christmas; more. BUT, I could always visit. Oh my: swimming at the St. George hotel with its’ salt water pool and the mirrored ceiling; the Thanksgiving and St. Patrick’s Day parades; Times Square on New Year’s Eve (just once);……..

Had to stop, starting to choke up. Take a deep breath.

OK. I now live in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, selected as my retirement spot after years of study. Been here 15 years. I do very well, thank you. We eat out several times a week. I love it. We have a backyard about 100 feet deep and two football fields long. A stream runs through it at the rear boundary.

We live at the foot of a mountain.

The backyard is visited by a variety of wildlife: squirrels, flying squirrels, several species of rabbit, red foxes, muskrat, wild turkeys, deer, gray fox, ducks, geese and an amazing variety of birds including several hawk species. (They tend to harvest the mourning doves.)

Just a couple of healthy stones throws away is a herd of elk and a pack of red wolves. The gray wolves have not yet been re-released to the wild. The cougars/panthers/mountain lions are gone but you can still find feral pigs, some mixed with European Boars. They hunt them on foot, with spears!

What about bears? They are all around us but have never been seen on our property. Sightings have been made within a half mile. Usually a daily incident in the local papers.

We gotcher streams, creeks, rivers, ponds, lakes and hundreds of waterfalls. Local fishing waters hold all species of trout; bass species include largemouth, smallmouth, spotted, peacock, striped, hybrid.

The North Carolina state record for Bluegill sunfish (2 ¾ pounds) was caught in our home county.

Culturally, we miss major league sports. However we have seen Itzaak Perlman, the Lippizaner Stallions, David Copperfield, many operas. We have musical and stage shows, lots of Celtic music and dancing and, as you might expect, tons of Blue Grass. The circus, pow-wows, gem mines. We’re not lacking.

Tennessee, Georgia and South Carolina are within a half hour’s drive.

City lovers would miss the 24 hour lifestyle. We tend to roll up the sidewalks around 9:30 PM.

So, all-in-all, it was a great move. We still visit the son in Flatbush and the daughter in Brick, NJ. We absolutely avoid Long Island at all costs.

There are a few other ties to The City. I still have a plot in Calvary Cemetary. It will go unused.

So, my dear son: revel in your Brooklyn home with your partner. You have chosen, and wisely for you. My plan to protect you was a flop and thank goodness for that.

I am still happy to be FROM Brooklyn. But I have a friend there whom I can visit whenever possible. He opens my eyes to the things I overlooked and broadens my knowledge base and horizons, even at the age of 75.

I am blessed in all things.

Woodfield Inn, Flat Rock, North Carolina

Posted on 2007-01-22 by admin

Photos of the exterior, grounds, and gardens of the historic Woodfield Inn [defunct] in Flat Rock, North Carolina. These photos are from October of last year and this past Saturday, when we threw a party for my parents’s 50th Anniversary.