Let’s go… Slaho!

OK so technically this is not going to be a poem. And Ide is short for Idelio (pronounced, ee-deh, not “eyed”), but it looked nice that way and when I think of an ode I think of something giving an uplifting description (just in poetic form). So, an ode this is…

Today was a rough day for me as I was there to bid a final goodbye to an old friend. It was sad in a way because I’ll never be able to see or speak to him face to face again. On the other hand, I couldn’t help myself from smiling for the man had done something that he professed he would do better than anybody I’d known until now: he cheated death for 37 years. If the Grim Reaper had had his way with Idelio he would have taken him long before I ever would have had a chance to meet him. He was supposed to be gone by the age of 7. And after he turned 8, there was no reason to believe at any point in life that he should go on any longer. And yet he did… day after day after day, after month, after year, after decade. He wasn’t being fooled either. He and I talked freely about his mortality numerous times over the last 20 years, he constantly reminding me that every meeting may be our last, but that he was going to make sure that somehow it wouldn’t be. Well, the day finally came, and though many expressed shock at it’s suddenness, I couldn’t help but think otherwise, and could only smile at the fact that we were all fortunate to have him as long as we did.

I must admit that when I first met the man, I didn’t know what to make of him. He was the first person that I can honestly say I regularly interacted with who had a visible physical disability. You’d never know it by talking to him, though. He never let you look at him or treat him with any sort of pity. He was what he was and that’s the way he was supposed to be, so deal with it. It was a great attitude to have and an incredibly refreshing one that made it easy for me to interact with him. It took my focus off of his right hand which was misshapen and which he could not control, and from his very obvious limp. Growing up I had an issue that whenever I would see someone with a disability I couldn’t help but stare. Idelio quickly taught me to stop doing that; all the while he never actually said, “don’t stare at my hand.” It just became natural to not look at it, and to see the man behind it.

At first, I and all those who knew him treated him differently. Maybe because of the fact that he had always been babied because of his disability, it seemed natural for us to do so also. In the Encuentros Juveniles, where I met him, I don’t remember anybody ever giving him any major responsibility. He was never asked to be a small group leader, a”jefe”, in the Monday meetings. He was never given the chance to give a talk at a retreat. I remember him telling me that it really bothered him, but I couldn’t help but think for a long time that maybe he really wasn’t ready. It wasn’t until shortly before I left there when we were picking a team for a retreat that I asked why he was never given a talk, even a simple one to give, that no one could come up with a good answer. Idelio was an example to others of how we should appreciate God because we are all so blessed… he didn’t need to say anything. He was a walking billboard… “If I can love God with what was dealt me, then what’s stopping you?” I must admit his mere presence in a retreat was very effective. But no one was hearing his story, and that began to eat at me… just at it was eating at him.

While we were still active as part of the Encuentros Juveniles, the two of us along with a group of others were stationed during a radio marathon at a corner near our parish to collect money in cans to help out the Youth Center where we had our meetings. Along with the two of us, I also had another friend, Josue, who also had a disability, collecting money. I separated the two and we each got in a different corner of the intersection to collect money. I thought I was doing great, collecting money from people I recognized from the parish who happened to be driving by. Then, I went to check on Josue who had more trouble moving around than Idelio to make sure he wasn’t getting tired. Josue was racking in the bucks. People were giving him money but because in their eyes he was handicapped. Josue realized this and wasn’t too comfortable with the idea but continued. It was, after all, for a good cause. Then I went to check on Idelio. Before I got to him, I realized that he too had realized why people were giving him money. Unlike Josue, he ate it all up. If his hand was going to get him what he needed then so be it. As I approached him I can hear him yelling at the cars… “Give me money, I’m handicapped!” Then the windows would open and I would see people just throwing money in his jar. We had to give him a second jar because his first jar was so stuffed. I told Ide that I think it was a good idea that he do that, but he just looked at me and told me that this wasn’t for him. God gave him the handicap and he was going to give back to God by using it in his favor… that was his talent that day, and he was using it to raise money for his Church. I had no response to that. When we got back yo the Youth Center I handed over all our cans so that we could count the money. Everyone was shocked at how well we had done. All I could do is tell them what a Godsend Josue and Idelio were. When all had been counted, Idelio alone had collected more money than any other team had collected at each individual intersection. We needed to collect money… well Ide was going to do just that… and he did.

Ide and I started getting closer as time went by. In doing so, I started to realize how much he hated being babied. Everybody treated him like a child, starting with his own parents. People thought that he was incapable of taking care of himself, and he wanted to… no, he NEEDED to prove otherwise. He always felt that one day he was going to find himself alone and that only he would be able to take care of himself. He was not going to be at the mercy of some government program that would take care of him in some house full of invalids (he felt that that’s how people saw him… as an invalid). He was going to be independent. And screw everybody who thought otherwise. It sounded great when he said it. I’m not so sure that anybody believed he could do it. I’m not so sure I believed that he could do it. But I wanted to be around to find out.

After three and a half years at the Encuentros Juveniles, I realized that it was time for me to move on. I had decided in August of 1992 to start attending the Young Adult group at St. Brendan, but chained my mind when Hurricane Andrew hit and damaged the Youth Center greatly. My house hadn’t been damaged during the storm so I spent long hours at the Youth Center helping to fix up the place. While I was it was interesting to see that 2 of the people who spent many an hour there helping out were Josue and Idelio. With most able-bodied people worrying about their own needs (and rightfully so, with the amount of damage that Andrew caused), here were two guys permanently working at much less than 100% working their tails off making sure the Youth Center would be up and running ASAP. During this time and over the next couple of months I spoke with Idelio how it was my time to move on, and Idelio decided his time had come to… to follow me wherever I was gonna go so he could also get a fresh start. So there it was, the two of us were heading off to new frontiers. Come January I attended my first St. Brendan Young Adult meeting, along with Idelio. We both agreed it was where we wanted to be, and chose a final day to attend the Encuentros’ Monday meeting: Monday March 15, 1993. Easy to remember the date. It was my 23rd birthday, and Ide’s 27 1/2 birthday (our birthday’s were exactly 6 months apart), and it was the last meeting after the last retreat I would work as a member of the movement. Two weeks later the two of us would be attending our first retreat with the St. Brendan group and our membership would be solidified there. I was stuck with the guy now. Like it or not.

Shortly after I joined the group, SpiritAlive, I was asked to become of the cabinet, the organizing committee of the group. It seemed that they liked my experience working at the Youth Center, and many of those there had little organizational experience. I started helping to organize, and with the help of the other cabinet members the group began to grow. The bigger the group got, though, the more organized we needed to be, and I suggested that we, as a cabinet, each needed to focus on different jobs to make sure we got everything done. We came up with some different responsibilities for the members, but realized that we needed someone to be the contact person, the liaison, for all group activities. This person would make phone calls reminding everybody of all upcoming social events, service activities, and the upcoming topics for our Tuesday night meetings. Well, since the group was getting big, few wanted the responsibility of contacting so many people on a regular basis. Who had that much time? That was when it occurred to me… IDELIO. After some reservation from some of the members, we agreed to give him the chance. It turns out that it was the best decision we could have made. Since Ide didn’t have a job (more on that later), he had more than enough time to make all the phone calls necessary. And Ide was finally getting something that no one wanted to give him: responsibility. This was his chance, and he was not going to blow it. And he didn’t. I can honestly say that I don’t know of anyone (including myself) who did his designated job in that cabinet any better than he did. Sometimes he did it TOO well. People started if he was calling to inform or just to call. The truth is he was taking advantage and getting to know everyone who he called. His insight was great then, on figuring out what the group needed to meet the needs of the individuals. The man had risen to the occasion.

In September of that year we were putting together the first retreat that we were going to lead at SpiritAlive. We decided that the leaders for this retreat were going to be the cabinet members. We were each going to have a talk. Issue: Idelio had never given a talk. Well, I figured, it was about time he gave one. When the retreat came around Ide was very nervous, but well prepared. The way I figured it, he didn’t need to say much. One look at him and his testimony would be done. Little did I know what a big hit he was going to be. Taking his talk alone, it wasn’t anything out of this world. Then again, it’s rare that anyone’s first retreat talk is very good unless you’re already comfortable speaking to large groups. But giving that talk did something that the rest of us didn’t expect. It gave him an incredible amount of confidence. He’d been given two responsibilities now. And he was two for two. “I can do anything,” was his attitude. And he had proven it, if to no one else, then to himself.

Idelio, as I’d mentioned, was very limited due to his disabilities. His biggest obstacle wasn’t his disability but his medication for the disability. Ide really felt that he could have done any job he was given. Unfortunately, due to the cost of his medicines he was better off not working and letting Medicaid (or is it Medicare… heck, one of the two) pay for his pills. He WANTED to work, but it wasn’t worth his while. If he made more than a certain amount of money, then he would have to start paying for his medicines and that would cost more than the amount of money he could possibly earn in a year. (He took in the vicinity of 10 to 15 pills EVERY DAY, and in the course of a year it would cost without Medicaid tens of thousands of dollars). But the man wanted to work. So he got a job at a movie theater, Palace 18, and would only work enough to make sure his wages still allowed him to get Medicaid. He LOVED that job. One, it allowed him to work. And two, it allowed him to be close to his big passion… The Movies. Ide loved movies and swore that one day he would make one. One of his prized possessions: an original screen play of the original Star Wars. He was going to make a movie someday, he would say… just watch me!

Well, as time went by in SpiritAlive, Ide found other ways of showing his independence. I remember when we decided to go on a trip to Disney World. Ide was going to be leaving out of town without mom and dad for three days. (I can honestly say I’m not sure this was the first time he did this, but I know he mentioned that his parents weren’t happy about him going). We had a great time. So much so, that we repeated the trip a number of times. One problem the poor guy had, though, was that he was limited as to which rides he can go on. Space Mountain was out of the question, as was Thunder Mountain and Splash Mountain. His heart condition didn’t allow for him to go on them. He wasn’t supposed to go on Star Tours either. And at first he didn’t. I taped it for him with my video camera and showed it to him one day at home so he knew what he was missing. But, then his “heck, I’m supposed to be dead anyway” attitude got to him and he decided to go on it anyway. It was after all Star Wars, DAMMIT. I’M GOING. And so he did. And he survived! We still couldn’t convince him to go on Space Mountain, though. He needed to make sure he was alive for some other dreams of his you know.

The two of us were in SpiritAlive for a while, but soon after I met Dania, and we got engaged and eventually we married and I left, while he stayed behind. After getting married I sort of drifted not just from him, but from a number of my friends, and regretfully so. But Ide would never let me get too far away. He was sure to call and remind me he was still alive and kicking often. During this time that I was off honeymooning and starting a family that Ide’s father lost everything including his house, and Ide and his family were forced to live in a warehouse without a shower, nor a number of other amenities. He never let on to me what was going on. Not until after the fact, but that only showed his resolve. He was not going to be pitied. He was going to get through this, and he going to come out stronger. And he did.

Though we didn’t talk frequently I was still aware of his many accomplishments… the ones that the confidence he had in himself allowed for him to accomplish. In no particular order, he started lobbying for the disabled in the state of Florida, he got a place of his own, away from mom and dad, and he became a professional speaker, meaning he got paid to go and lecture on a number of topics mostly concerning the plight of the disabled. If you’ve noticed I for the most part have kept from using the word handicapped, and that’s because Ide taught me not to use it. I can honestly say the only time I heard him use it was that one time on that intersection collecting money. Otherwise he would use the word “disability”. He explained to me that he preferred that word because we ALL have disabilities. It just so happened that his was physical. Some of us have emotional ones, others mental. Worst yet, some had spiritual disabilities. If we could all recognize that we all lack the ability to do something then it would be easier for us all to see each other as equals. Man, that made sooo much sense. That has never left me.

There are certain images of Idelio that stick out when I look back. His first talk at SpiritAlive, when he would look at me after every few sentences to make sure he was doing well. That was the first and last time he ever did that. He knew after that he was capable of using that talent. Man, did he ever!! I remember watching him swim in his pool with the one working arm, and one working leg. It wasn’t pretty to watch, but very impressive. Anybody who tells me they can’t swim, I laugh at. It’s only because they don’t want to. Ide, who didn’t have enough fat on him to be able to float, swam. Anybody could swim. Period. I remember looking at his chest when he had no shirt on. I couldn’t help but look, because he was so thin that you could actually see the palpitations of his heart. It was a reminder to all who looked at him. I AM ALIVE. It left an impression on me. I remember his frog costume that he would wear for Halloween. And whenever else he could find a good reason to wear it. And not just any frog. Kermit the Frog. And he wore that costume well. I remember him working the dunk tank at St. Brendan carnivals. He couldn’t go in the tank because he couldn’t afford to get sick. But he was there every day running after and retrieving every baseball thrown by the customers… hopping along like, well, Kermit the Frog… I’m telling you that costume was awesome. Idelio always made sure he was surrounded by girls. Look at all the pictures of him and you’ll notice he was always strategically place next to a girl… and his “wayward” right hand somehow always managed to be right behind her rear end, which made for some classic moments on film! I remember seeing billboards and advertisements on the bus panels with his face on them telling people not too look at his disabilities, but at his abilities. He’s been on a billboard!!! Many billboards!!! All over Florida!! And I haven’t. He wanted to, and he did. The guy had Jeb Bush’s personal line on speed dial on his phone. Who could say that? Finally, I can remember a week before his death, his face when he told me he had finally quit his job at the theater. He was happy to see that part of his life coming to an end, and he was getting ready to fully pursue his life as a politician. He was now working with our state representative and was looking forward to running for office sometime soon he said. I told him he had my vote. He still does. I remember also telling him that I was convinced that he’d be the last man standing on earth, and that he would have to live among the cockroaches. I guess he didn’t like cockroaches all that much, huh?

Ide was well aware of his mortality. Every birthday was a huge event. I was invited to his last 10 birthdays. I was only able to make it to two of them. I really didn’t have any great excuses for most of them. I really wish I would have gone to more of them. He did come to my birthday gatherings when invited. I remember the last one he attended. I was having an Improv party where we all took a shot at doing some Improv games like in “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” Ide took a shot at it. He wasn’t very good at it. When everybody left, he stuck around. He had something to show me. He had made a documentary of his life and his condition and he wanted to show me. We sat there and we watched it together. Twice. I was so proud of him. It showed how he overcame all adversity to accomplish the things that he did. It was impressive to me how he was able to travel all over Florida and do what he did, with him being as absent-minded as he was (this was actually his biggest disability, and yet he overcame that one too!!). But the most telling thing about the movie was the movie itself. He had made his movie. He said he’d make a movie, and he did. He made a movie. He’d done it all.

I guess that’s why Ide finally gave in to death. He’d done it all, silenced all the doubters, proven everyone wrong about what he could do. No, his fight wasn’t over. Someone else will have to pick up and lobby for the rights of the disabled, but his voice was made loud and clear and will continue to resound long after he’s gone. No, he never got elected to office, but I have no doubt he would have one if not at first eventually. That was not to be, though. A few years back, Susie, a former member of SpiritAlive from when we were both there died in a motorcycle accident. We were at the funeral home paying our respect when Ide reminded me how he wasn’t supposed to be alive, yet he was there for Susie’s funeral instead. He said something that day that I’d heard him say before, and I heard him say again later, but that meant more then under the circumstances. Amidst the tears and the sadness, he told me that he wanted nothing of that. He wanted a party at his death. People laughing at dancing. He wanted no crying. There was no reason to cry. He had cheated death all this time. People should be celebrating that. So I sat there today, my rough day, and I couldn’t help but smile. No tears. He wanted laughter and I wasn’t going to dent him that… I pictured him in his frog suit and chuckled to myself. Don’t worry, Ide, you wanted a party. You’ll get one. I promise. And if someone cries, I’ll swiftly kick their butts out of the house. Unless of course they are crying with laughter.

You’re one of a kind, Ide. Rest in Peace. And as I told you on your Facebook page, put in a good word for me with the Big Guy up there. If anybody could convince Him to get me in, it’s you. God bless you. And see you later.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 8th, 2009 at 1:03 am and is filed under Just thinking.... You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.