There it was again, that song. It always happens this time of year, the anniversary of my brother’s untimely demise. It’s inevitable that that song dances through my ears. It was playing on the music machine at a local gin joint.
Brother Don was an early genius and late bloomer in his personal life. He joined the Catholic Order of Christian Brothers when he was 14 years old. Understand, the Christian Brothers do more than make booze. They are a teaching body, accepting the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Don excelled in learning and teaching. His doctorate was advanced calculus.
After 30 years of rave reviews for his teaching activities, Don was offered a job by a major oil company at a ridiculously high salary. Goodbye poverty, hello outside world. Don left the Christian Brothers. He bought a house overlooking the top ski resort near Buffalo, N.Y. and became an avid skier. One of his skiing ventures took him to Colorado, where he met an attorney from Florida. They hit it off big-time. Goodbye chastity, hello Wendy. It was a delightful wedding and country club reception near Tampa.
Throughout the next six years, we kept in touch (perhaps not enough). Then came the call. Don had a form of bone cancer and was given two years to live with no chance of a cure. My other brother and I offered to provide bone marrow, but the doctors said it was too late. Cancer can happen to a non-smoker, non-drinker and physical fitness exemplar.
Don defied the two-year sentence and six years later he was still on this earth and determined to grab all the gusto of life he could. He and Wendy were invited and came to one of my daughters’ wedding and reception. It was apparent when he arrived in Minnesota he was much weaker and frailer. He came to the wedding and left immediately afterward to go lie down. He showed up for picture-taking and light lunch and again left for their motel room. Finally, he and Wendy showed up for the reception dinner followed by music provided by a DJ. It was not too far into the reception that he had to, again, withdraw from the activities.
Not too long after they left we got a call at the reception venue (an Eagles Club). They were missing a rather expensive camera. We found it, and I offered to have my son run it out to them. They didn’t want to take anyone away from the gathering, and decided to return and retrieve the camera.
It was apparent when they showed up Don was extremely fatigued. But, by happenstance, just as they were heading toward the door, the DJ played Don and Wendy’s wedding song. Camera in hand, they clasped each other and hugged and danced their way down the hallway and out the door to that wedding song. It is (and remains) one of the greatest memories of my brother and what true love is all about.
The following day, they headed to the airport, and the next time we met — a short few months later — I delivered his eulogy.
Did I mention the name of their wedding song? “Could I Have This Dance for the Rest of My Life?”
Paul Ritzenthaler has spent most of his life working in broadcasting before retiring but still keeps himself busy by announcing baseball games at the Municipal Athletic Center in St. Cloud, golfing and trying to keep up with his two dogs Dani, a Sheltie, and Tucker, a Shi-Tzu, at his home in Sauk Rapids.
