Words I wish I'd said

I hugged my sister, her husband and son and wished them a safe trip at the airport on Tuesday as they got ready to board a plane bound for Japan, by way of Detroit. My sister and family are traveling to visit her daughter-in-law Miki, granddaughter Mia and grandson RJ. This will be the first visit with them since my nephew passed away in February from bone cancer and this trip is certain to be bittersweet for all of them. Joey was in the Navy, stationed and building a life in Japan. His ship is coming back into port and I think they are going to hold a memorial service for him in Japan for his friends and family there that were unable to attend the service in the States. I know the emotional roller coaster my sister, brother-in-law and nephew are undergoing with this visit and my heart reaches out to them across the miles with hugs and love. So very much love.

There hasn’t been much written of my nephew on my blog as the grief and sadness are still very close to the surface and easily churned. I do not want to cause my sister any further grief or sadness as she, her husband and other son wind their way through their loss and try to adjust to the new patterns Joey’s passing created. His picture, dates of birth and death are at the bottom of the page in memory because we will never go a day without missing him. He died way too young and way too suddenly from an insidious disease that crept in with stealth and malice, giving little warning of its destructive intent.

At memorial services, family and friends are asked to speak words about the deceased, to share in the joy those individuals brought to our lives. There were so many things I wanted to say but how can words be strung together coherently when grief overshadows the mind and heart, like fog over water? The mental pictures and words flashed and jumbled around in my head and heart like so many leaves tossed about in a gale wind. None of those thoughts held together long enough to put them into words and share with others. Here are some of the thoughts I would like to say now to remember the boy he was and the man he became before he was taken from us.

My sister has two wonderful sons. I say two because there will always be two of the heart and soul, regardless that one is no longer among us. They are both bright loving family oriented young men. On a September day in 1982 a baby boy was born with chubby cheeks and a sweet disposition. Joseph Anthony Scandariato soon grew into a golden curled sturdy toddler with mischievous brown eyes, a sweet smile and engaging laugh. Joey liked trucks and belly tickles and getting dirty. Then he grew into a tall sturdy boy who still liked to get dirty, play sports and pick on his younger brother. He found passion in Ice Hockey where he used his height and build to his advantage to check other players and steamroll down the ice. Joey enjoyed hanging with his younger brother, Brian and they became not just brothers but friends. His musical choice was listening to the oldies- Big Bands, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and the other Rat Packers and preferred music recorded prior to 1980. Joey wore suits because he liked the look and how they made him feel and always chose to go with his own inclinations rather than follow the trends. He loved his parents and younger brother and stayed close to them, as they were a unit and solid together. Joey had a dry subtle humor that snuck up on a person and often took people by surprise with his sly comments and off kilter grin. He was gentle and soft spoken unless he was pissed off then he could swear like a dockworker in high temper.

On September 11, 2001 Joey watched the smoke and flames in lower Manhattan from the beach near his home in New Jersey. He decided to join the Navy and aid his country, as many young men did in the months after this terrible event. He chose the Navy, as that is where his Grandfather had served during the Korean War. In February 2002 he was off to boot camp and his naval training.

Joey was eventually stationed in Japan and served on the USS Kitty Hawk. He was a Machinist Mate and advanced in grades with each successive opportunity. He became a leader in his area and a mentor to other young sailors as they learned their responsibilities while away from their families and familiar settings. While in Japan, he met and courted a young woman and Joey, being the family man he was, fell hard for this young woman. And the golden haired boy with brown eyes became a husband and father. He was so proud of his new family. I remember his wedding and the joy that just glowed from his face as he danced with his wife and then his mother. I can still see that joy and happiness in the pictures from that day. Joey was meant to be a father, with his gentleness and capacity for love. He reveled in building the father and son relationship with RJ that he himself had with his father. And then the day came that Joey and the young woman had a daughter together, Mia. This beautiful little girl so resembled her father when he was a baby. The very same chubby cheeks, shape of the mouth and the tousled curls graced the features of this child that had once graced her fathers, though her curls were darker brown. They were a complete family unit, building a life in her mother’s native country. Joey loved living in Japan, everything about it, despite being over 6 foot and sleeping on beds not long enough for his tall frame. Until his parents had one shipped over. He took to the language and was soon conversing like a native himself. Joey loved the hot springs near his home and would travel there when he was not deployed. He loved showing parts of the country he was claiming as his own to his parents and brother when they went to visit him. I know he was as happy there as he had ever been, building his new life. He would call his mother at four a.m., states time, to get tips on how to cook lasagna or ham or some other favorite dish he loved and wanted to make in his kitchen with his family.

One day in early spring of 2007 he called his mother to say he had a cyst in his hip and was getting some tests done. He was flown from Japan to San Diego for further evaluation and tests. It was discovered that he had an aggressive form of OsteoSarcoma in his hip, pelvic area, on his chest and other spots. He began an aggressive regimen of Chemo and Radiation that brought little help. He transferred to the East Coast and specialized Oncologists and hospitals, to back home where his parents and brother and extended family stood by with support and help, while he underwent further tests and experimental treatments in an effort to stave off the inexorable advancement of this merciless cancer. He did all of these things with admirable bravery and his signature humor and gentleness. These efforts all proved unsuccessful, despite having some of the countries top specialists in consultation. In less than a year, a year that seemed both as brief minutes and several lifetimes all at once, Joey could no longer fight the battle and passed away.

He had turned 25 years old just five months prior. Joey lived a life full of accomplishments for one so young and left behind his loving family including his wife, 7 year old son and 1 ½ year old daughter; a daughter who will only get to know him through shared pictures and memories from those that knew and loved him and will pass the knowledge to her that a wonderful, kind and loving man was her father. That this golden curled, brown eyed, sturdy little boy turned into an honorable loving Man.

These were the words I would have told everyone in attendance that day if I could have thought through the sadness to put them together.
And this: We will love you always