“I didn’t order a grilled cheese sandwich…”  Hospital food. They brought grilled cheese AGAIN.  And my Uncle Paul wasn’t having any of it. “Its not what I ordered…They did this last night as well.”   In fact it was the third time in two days.  It was time for him to get something to eat.  I was about to go all out Shirley McLaine (at the nurses station in “Terms of Endearment”, remember?)…but I refrained.

“Can he have bacon?”  asked his Korean born wife Jin, with baited breath.  Uncle Paul who battled many serious health issues including Diabetes couldn’t eat just anything. But the doctor’s answer would reveal the reason for my visit.  And confirm the awful news where this was all headed:

Looking over to me for extra emphasis for some reason she said: “Have whatever you want.”  ”You can eat whatever you want, now,” she announced choking back tears with red rimmed eyes and a gentle sigh.   

Not to mention that his kidneys and liver were no longer working.  That he was jaundiced.  That his Stage 4 Esophageal Cancer had joined in the horrific battle to take Paul from the living.  That he was very weak and struggled to speak.  It wasn’t going to deter or dampen our visit. I wanted him to smile and to know that the he was loved.  That was my mission last week on a quick trip up to Oregon.

“Tell me stories Uncle Paul,…I want to hear about that crazy house with ten kids growing up…”    He broke into the widest smile and laughed to the point he could barely breathe….as Jin massaged his feet.  And for an hour or two before the hospice team came to go over his discharge plan….he struggled but spoke …and told me and Jin stories.   

Uncle Paul was my mothers little brother.  Oh, did I mention she had six brothers?  And three sisters?   Yep.  Little Paulie was third from the bottom rung of birth order and bed bunk priority. As with all her siblings, my mother would light up when she saw him.  The O’Leary kids had been through a lot together. (More on that in a moment…)

And we were off…onto a trip down Memory Lane (aka 215th Street). The stories were mostly fun.  About how he and his brothers heard their father was thinking of getting a second job….and found some yellow paint that began to turn their family Packard sedan into a hand-painted NYC yellowcab.   Someone put a stop to the hijinx.  Who?   “I think it was my mother”, he eeked out with a giggle.

About how my mother and her sisters would take him places.  “They would take us (the little ones) places.”   “She took me to see the Wizard of Oz in the movie theatre and we waited in line for hours… I’ll never forget that…it was fun though.”

He told me how my mother was obsessed with and took great care trimming the Christmas tree…even during the lean frugal and sometimes sad times in the O’Leary house on 215th Street.  This was awesome to hear because I always describe my mother as the best Christmas Mommy ever.

We didn’t talk about dying. I followed his lead. He wasn’t sad.  He had chosen to die at home and was heading home.  He was strong and determined. And courageous. It was the O’Leary way. And probably the Gallagher in him too!

Just like his mother Bernadette…  (a Gallagher who btw married an O’Leary)…. carried on and continued to raise her TEN children alone after her firefighter husband Arthur died when they were all little.  She too just a few years later valiantly battled cancer…never mentioned it…never complained about it…and put on her Sunday best including makeup and acted like everything was OK.  Pretending everything is OK is a defense mechanism and a strength builder, perhaps.   Fake it till you make it they say in addiction recovery (which works if you work it, btw…including the faking it part.)

There is no doubt in my mind that my grandmother stayed strong FOR HER CHILDREN including young Paul….to protect them from the awful sadness and shattering reality that she was dying.   She died in 1964.

Oprah Winfrey at a party once described my friend Jeni Stepanek as one of the most powerful people  on Earth because, she said,  power is strength over time.  My grandmother Bernadette was pretty darn powerful.  And so was my Uncle Paul…in his last days…and throughout his entire life.

God had dealt him a tough deck of cards.  His struggle began by being 80 percent deaf in childhood (hard to diagnose and treat in the 1950s) with clunky hearing devices and just being different.  Growing up deaf?  Not easy. 

Bliss and family life fathering two of the cutest little boys you could imagine ended abruptly like in a  real life horror movie …actually a 1970s TV Movie of the week (literally) as the boys were taken by their mother out of state…and never seen again.  A trauma he (and the rest of us) rarely ever spoke of again.  Such epic deep sadness was met with that amazing O’Leary Gallagher double whammy dose of Courage.

Not too long after that time in his life….a job took him to rural Oregon where he lived the rest of his life.  Joining him his devoted wife whose English is limited but not her love….giving him almost three decades of companionship.  By his side for open heart surgery …and sadly a long list of chronic illness. With him to the very end.

Paul who had somehow dealt with losing both his parents in epic ways when he was young…stayed strong in the face of his own demise.  I didn’t see fear.

The doctor in the hallway told me he had but a day or two left. But Paul lasted a whole week.  Of course he did.  Giving Jin time to get ready…joined by his sister Cathy and my cousin Ian…Paul was reminded over and over…with phone calls from back East as well… how much he was loved. 

As my visit came to an end last week…a Purple ice pop arrived to replace the grilled cheese sandwich…which brought glee and a giggle from Uncle Paul.  He enjoyed his ice pops.

I held his hand and told him how much we all loved him. That the O’Leary’s would take care of Jin…and that she would never ever be alone.  His eyes and his mouth both said “Thank you”.

My mothers adorable little brother Paul would soon see her again in Heaven. My mother died 14 years ago. Deep in my heart I hope and wish that they reunite.

The end came as Christmas Eve arrived and Uncle Paul departed for his Christmas reunion…. My mothers favorite holiday.  He got their in time to help her with the Christmas tree.  I know he did.