It's Never Too Late to Chang

 

My father is a first generation American.  His parents, George and Andjulina, emigrated from Yugoslavia in the early 1920’s and had 5 children, the oldest named Anthony.  My father Edward, the middle child, was the super-ambitious one of the lot.  He worked as a busboy at the Harvard University dining hall from the age of 14 through high school, went into the Air Force in 1946 fixing airplanes near the Panama Canal, and then earned his business degree at BU, paid for by the GI bill. After decades in operations management,  he started his own business at age 60.  Anthony could not have been more different than Dad.  He was quiet, timid and gentle.  He was also what we now refer to as agoraphobic; he was afraid to go out into the world except for necessary tasks.  Because he was so quiet, I felt I didn’t know him as well as I would have liked.  But he was a sweet and thoughtful man....

 

My father’s family, (Tata, Aunt Mary, Uncle Anthony and Uncle Billy) would visit us every Christmas. I remember Anthony would always come bearing gifts for the “girls”--mom, my sister Caroline and me. We received the same gift every year, a cologne-talcum kit, the kind you could purchase at CVS.  Although I wasn’t one to use cologne, I was moved, even as a young teenager, that this quiet and unassuming uncle would treat us to this gift of self-care purchased with his relatively meager income.  I know he enjoyed these visits, these rare chances to escape his house and feel safe amongst people he loved. 

 

Despite his agoraphobia, Anthony was able to work because he met a kind man through a friend who needed custodial help for his small apartment building in Cambridge. He gave Anthony a place to live in return for odd jobs such as painting, cleaning, yard work and repairs.  He also befriended Anthony, and so with his life’s work, Anthony also found a dear friend.

 

About 10 years before Anthony died, when he turned 80, a switch flicked..... all of a sudden, his agoraphobia disappeared.  I am not certain why things changed so suddenly, or perhaps they weren’t so sudden, but just seemed that way.  Was it his brain chemistry?  Was it a chance meeting with someone who encouraged him to get out of his apartment? Or, was it because he knew at 80, the window of his life was starting to close and he needed to do something quickly?  I don’t know the answer, except I do know that Anthony, who didn’t drive, took the labyrinthine MBTA all over the city, exploring Brookline Village, Jamaica Plain, downtown Boston, Arlington, Cambridge, Malden, Melrose, Somerville, Braintree (where dad and mom lived) and anywhere else he could travel to by public transportation. 

 

Looking back at this astounding change in Anthony makes me reflect on how important it is not to “write off” our lives, or anyone else’s for that matter, because they (or we) have been stuck or in a difficult place for many years, even decades.  Life is ephemeral.  We just can’t predict why, how or when, but people can surprise you when you least expect it. So be present, show love and acceptance, and who knows? At some point, the universe may take a different turn…

 
Holly Kania