Renewed Ramblings

 First, let me say that it is remarkable that I was able to trudge through my emails to find the name of this site. Then to have my old posts still be visible seems miraculous to me. Apparently, once upon a time I had lots of thoughts about lots of things and some people actually cared to read them. How wondrous! So being back at the keyboard, typing on this page tonight (after a decade) feels like revisiting a house where I lived previously, and feeling comforted to find that some things have not changed irrevocably.

My cousin Shelley told me a few years ago that I collect people the way some travelers collect souvenirs. A Syrian server at the Plaza Hotel who has become chosen family and occasionally allows me to stay in his home in Brooklyn. A New England coach I met in a bar during a Carolina-dook game and still run across sometimes when I am in South Carolina. A fascinating young pregnant woman from Canada that I dined beside in Rome on a night tour of monuments. She became a FB friend and now parents a rambunctious, school-aged, hockey playing daughter that I see virtually a few times each week. I could go on and on. It has been my experience that every person you pass by has a story that would astound you if you could listen to them long enough. So when fortune allows me the time and space to connect, I collect.

Tonight I was driving home in the dark after an incredibly long, taxing stretch of days and I was listening to the Carolina Hurricanes game. They are playing tonight in Madison Square Garden against the New York Rangers so naturally I was thinking about my friend Stephen Curatolo. I met Stephen on my first trip to NYC in October 2014. I sat beside him at the only New York Yankees game I have ever been to, which happened to be on a Wednesday afternoon and by chance it was Derek Jeter's next-to-the-last game before he retired. Stephen was a bear of a young man, laughing continuously and he seemed to know everyone in our section. He spoke to each one very loudly in the kind of Staten Island-by-way-of-Brooklyn New York accent that you hear on television. He was magnetic. So of course, I struck up a conversation.

Almost immediately he told me that he was a multi-time cancer survivor. I can't remember the type(s) or how many times he had beaten cancer, but even tonight I clearly recall how proudly he proclaimed that most important fact about himself. He was enamored with my Southern accent and when I told him I was from North Carolina, he exclaimed, "the land of the Hurricanes!" We talked a little about hockey and he taught me volumes about New York Yankees baseball. He called my phone and left me a voicemail to prove I had met an authentic New Yorker my first time in the city. I called his grandma in Staten Island because he wanted me to "talk Southern to her." We sat in the sunshine drinking beer and cheering for the Pin Stripes on a random Wednesday in 2014. It was the only time I was ever in his presence physically. 

But, of course, we became Facebook friends and then followed each other on Instagram. He would message me when the Tar Heels won rivalry games. He called me once from Madison Square Garden when the Hurricanes were in town and beat his beloved Rangers. That night he talked about bringing his hockey buddies to North Carolina when the Rangers played in Raleigh sometime. He was a lovely man who posted about his sports teams, his closely knit family, a zillion friends he spent time with around Staten Island...the kind of things that convince you that you are part of someone's daily life because you see the same characters and locations routinely on your screen.

Stephen passed away on May 10, 2019, after yet another bout with cancer...I think it was his fourth or fifth round of battle. He was 30. He had been fighting off and on for over twelve years. He never made it Raleigh for a Canes-Rangers game. But the New York Rangers honored him in several publications and the voice of the Rangers posted in his honor on Twitter. I never knew that until I googled his obituary again.

Tonight the Rangers beat the Hurricanes 2-1 at home in Manhattan. Wherever he is, I am sure Stephen is boasting about it to anyone who will listen in his loud, booming New York accent. It was 3 hours on a random Wednesday 9 years ago. I am not even sure why he is weighing so heavy on my heart tonight. I think Stephen wants to remind me that even at it's worst, life is beautiful and the will to live is nearly indefatiguable. I want to remind Stephen that you never know the depth of the impact you might be making even on a near stranger. I miss you, my friend. And I am lucky to have shared in your astounding story.