Precious email

While I am writing my dissertation on literary grief, exploring the changing communication technologies of the grief memoir, I often veer off into personal stories about the people in my life or about current events that we can all relate to.

I’ve talked about the Petit murders that occurred in Cheshire, Conn., several years ago, spoken more than once about New York firefighter Tommy Foley who died on 9/11, and offered vignettes about some of my relatives in between sharing the difficulties of a PhD candidate on the journey to dissertation completion. The reason behind the personalization is to share the goodness of those who have touched my life in some way, for whatever value it may have for those who stumble upon this blog and those who (thankfully) intentionally follow it.

This week, I have been thinking about my brother John, as another anniversary approaches. Believe it or not, it is with a positive spirit that I seek out these memories. I believe in cherishing the happy moments we have had with our loved ones because they were an important part of our lives. Their physical absence changes our relationship but doesn’t end it. As long as we remember them, they continue to be with us.

The last ten years, I have adjusted to the change in my relationship with my brother John. It is a relationship of memories, sprinkled with the occasional dream that brings him back in a different way.

As I think about how John and I got to be closer over the last eight or so years of his life, I find it ironic that it was a changing communication technology that contributed to that evolution.

Have you heard of WebTV? It doesn’t exist anymore, at least not under that name, apparently, but essentially it is a device with a keyboard that hooks up to your television and allows you to connect to the internet and use email, just like a computer. My brother John had a WebTV unit. In many ways, it was his connection to the outside world.

John was a paraplegic. At the age of 29, he lost the use of his lower body after a car accident. He would have good days and bad days, like any of us, but for John, a bad day could mean not emerging from his room to avoid contact with whoever might be around the house that day. On those days, he would sometimes turn to his WebTV to escape whatever was bothering him.

Sometimes, it was to participate in fantasy sports leagues. As a former athlete, John really enjoyed professional sports -- from football and baseball to hockey and horse racing. Other times, he would bid on sports memorabilia, and developed quite a collection of signed baseball cards and other items that he locked away into a large trunk, planning one day to hand down these valuable things to our nephew, Luke.

Finally, WebTV gave John the ability to communicate by email. When he didn’t feel like talking, email gave John a way to pour out his heart and stay in touch with a select group of friends.

This morning, I pulled out the manila folder in my basement file cabinet labeled: EMAILS - JOHN. In the folder were about 40 email printouts of messages from my brother, sometimes lengthy outpourings of his frustration with being “in the chair” and sometimes chatty conversations about Luke, who was about 4 or 5 years old then. I didn’t save every email I ever got from John, but I had printed out and saved these at the time I was moving out of my old third-floor apartment because I didn’t want to take a chance on losing them. Rereading them today, they really transported me to those days.

For those who knew him, John was a fun guy, a true-blue friend, and often, a burst of energy. He loved movies, music and sports, and chances are, if you were hanging out with him, those would be favorite topics of discussion (not counting pretty girls!). His greatest love in life, though, was our nephew. He spoiled Luke with attention and toys -- including setting him up with a collection of Rescue Heroes that still exists today.

John was a softie, too. Do you remember the news story about the little boy from Cuba, Elian Gonzalez, who was at the center of a controversy between the United States and Cuba in 2000?

Well, after a long email from John, in which he vented about his difficult daily routine, asked about Luke’s latest swimming lesson, referenced an upcoming trip to Shea Stadium that included a running commentary on the ball game that was currently being played (“mets & marlins are now tied 4-4 in the 7th inn... base hit left field!!!! now they take the lead 6-4!!... mets are on fire!!!), followed by a mention of our Dad’s upcoming birthday and two movie references, his final thought in the email was about this little boy he only knew through news accounts: “poor little elian went back to cuba today.”

That was John. Sensitive, compassionate, caring. He left a legacy that I hope has become part of my own personality, and an example of how precious our communications can be -- even when we don’t realize it.

Copyright 2012 By Marianne V. Heffernan