Jimmy
“A reason to pause” – as they say, that’s what yesterday was for me. October 13th is one day of the year I do not celebrate, I don’t even like the sound of the letters and numbers strung together in a sentence or written out in marker on a calendar. What’s important is that I use this day each year to reflect on what could have been, and what we once had.
It was late one Saturday night. My brother was “jamming” with a friend from work, playing music late into the evening. Meanwhile, his wife Diane was pacing, worried and wondering where he was.
The rest of us, including his children, were peacefully asleep in our beds when on his way home, he lost control of his car and crashed head-on into a palm tree. He was only 32.
“Jimmy Joe” was my kid brother who made me his tomboy, a caddy for all of his sports. He threw catcher’s gear on me so he could pitch – made me break all the rules by playing baseball in the front yard – made me lie about balls he crashed through windows –and dragged me to the baseball diamond to chase after his ground balls. He was young, but a determined baseball player and the first ten-year old major league player at Sunset Little League in La Puente, CA. He once hit a grand slam and was our hero of the day! My parents, active in the Little League, were always ear-to-ear proud! He was our golden boy, and my brother was kicking butt in on his team.
Dedicated baseball player
But soon, the chubby boy in the Senator’s baseball uniform grew up and slimmed down. Like his dad and grandfather before him, he was obsessed with music, both playing and singing. He banged his drums for years, forming mini-bands he strung together in the garage. Jimmy was into music and into the girls, none of which was in short supply.
But it all changed when he met Diane. It didn’t take long before they decided to get married – both only 18 years old. The wedding weekend was a great time, laughing and crying at their wedding at Wee Kirk o’ The Heather Chapel in Las Vegas. Jimmy and Diane became a unit –a young, fun couple, always having a good time with family around. Everything revolved around his wife, his two baby boys – and his music.
Jimmy and Diane
Jimmy was our brother – the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. He was gentle and funny and loved to bug me incessantly to listen to his latest recordings on cassette.
In 1990, Jimmy and Diane had their third son Aaron, named after Elvis Aaron Presley, Jimmy’s mentor from childhood. After Aaron was born, everything seemed to be working, everyone seemed to be happy. Family get-togethers were about the kids and everyone hanging out together always sharing a nice time. Baby Aaron was given seven precious months to feel his father’s touch, to breathe in his scent, to listen his songs, to know and feel the very man that created him and loved him. That man that used to play little league baseball and play with a dog named Flo.
_________________________________________
Doctors say that our bodies have a natural response to an adrenaline rush. Information during the rush gets hard-wired into our memories, often permanent, but yet easy to be recalled. This is what happened to me. From the “call” informing me of the accident, to sifting
in the dirt with my fingers at the accident scene — every moment is imprinted in my mind, every detail.
Each year on October 13th I systematically recall them, as needed, to remind me of the reality. My unanswered questions though, still linger. I want to know everything he did that day, what was he wearing, what his last 10o words were. I want to know why he wasn’t more careful, what happened to his seat belt, and why was he out so late, and what was the last thing that he laughed about.
If Jimmy were here today he would be living the life of a loving grandfather to his new grandbaby girl. His oldest son and his wife have a little beauty named Laila. Two of his sons are now married, one is a teacher, one in college, one blessed with fatherhood. He has two awesome, smart, daughter-in-laws, and he would be loving and enjoying all of them, surrounding himself with his family. Jimmy had a big heart. I could go on about him, talking about the goofy gifts he gave my sister and I growing up that proved his heart and soul. He loved his grandmother, his parents, and his sisters, and especially his wife and boys. That was his life, and he showed his heart each day he lived, in his own way, and on his own terms.
We miss you, and we honor you, Jimmy “Joe” Joseph Alvarez.
We drove away silently and I started to think about the time, years ago, that I gave a homeless person $5 while walking on 2nd street in Long Beach. The woman grabbed the five as fast as she could and after looking at it she said “that’s it?”
