The last couple of weeks have moved George and I into another plane of our life together.
A couple of years ago… he watched in total helplessness as I mourned my fathers passing. … and now I stand by him as he journeys through this valley. What can I say… well from personal experience- I have not gotten use to my dad’s passing, but I am learning how to cope with it every day.
James was born in Czech Republic – back when it was known as Czechoslovakia, of both German and Czech parents.
From what I know and have learned… James took pride in his appearance. From what George told me, his dad wanted to come to America to be a movie star. He figures his dad made the first big mistake… he went to Hollywood- Florida not Hollywood- California. James was fond of movie stars, in particular: John Wayne- the “Duke”, James Garner, Clark Gable, Clint Eastwood, Shirley Temple, Marilyn Monroe just to name a few. I know this because after his death, I looked through his picture album. He had many pictures of himself and he had newspaper clippings of movie stars.
He was a book scraper… these were the latest.
James Raisler passed away on a Sunday Florida afternoon of August 21, 2016.
George always told me how he was “in love” with the father figure, but he was not happy with the choices his father had made. Yet, in a twisted way he loved the father figure his dad meant to him. 
He attributes his love for exercise to his father. And… the three things his father asked him to remember:
1. Don’t rear end anybody
2. Don’t borrow money or (owe) any person money
3. Don’t get sick
When I walked into his home I was drawn to his special sitting place, a single cloth sofa chair with a coffee table in front of it – out on the balcony. I looked at the neatly laid items on the coffee table – tweezers, nail cutter, pen, reading glasses, medical bills and a pocket calendar. The pocket calendar was open to the front inside cover where he had taped a newspaper article:
“He turned his face toward the blue horizon. ‘That’s how it is with death. One day, bang. Everything’s gone. Memories, Hopes, dreams, houses, loves, property, money. Our family and friends shed a tear, hold a ceremony, and go on with their lives. We become a few fading photographs in an album. And then those who loved us die, and those who loved them die, and soon even the memory of us is gone. You’ve seen those old photo albums in antique shops, filled with people in nineteenth-century dress-men, women, children. Nobody knows who they are anymore. Like the person who left this hand print. Gone and forgotten. To what purpose?'”
There is more the story that talks about escaping communism – spending time in Africa in jail with a murderer doing time. Coming to America… living in Chicago – working with Congressman Hyde to be reunited with his son, divorce from George’s mom and ending up in Hollywood, Florida. And then there were his dreams of being an actor.
Even though he had the number “77” written in the calendar for September 17, 2016… it seems he was dancing with ‘Death’ in his mind.
The weekend before James passed… something in my soul did not feel right, I told George to go visit with his mom – he talked about what a wonderful time he had baking bread, sitting in the jacuzzi-pool and talking until the wee hours of the morning with his mother. The night before James passing, George, Geordan and I sat around watching a movie (something we had not done as a family in a long time). The movie playing was playing “Josey Wales” – with Clint Eastwood. The next day… as we were heading to visit James at the hospital… our black cat Mr. Chubs went missing (and as of this writing has not returned). We were at the hospital when James had passed. We went back to his place, on the book shelf left on the ledge was the book “Josey Wales”. As if the last book he had read.
George so longed to have a sit down with his dad… to debate on politics and what not. When it comes down to it all – it’s those memories that we cherish the most. Rest in peace deda James.
