Skip to main content

Our Holiday Heart Warmer Has Passed



Our Holiday Heart Warmer

As my youngest daughter and I arrived home from early dismissal due to teachers staff development meeting today; she saw on Instagram someone we knew had passed. "Mom! The guy who played the flute died." I was crushed. 

But I knew that he was elder at this point. Yet, still felt the loss, funny enough it was as if he were family to me.

Phil, the flute player (a.k.a Santa Claus), who performed mostly in downtown Ridgewood, just miles from our home had died. I searched to see if he was alone when he passed or was someone there to comfort him. 

After not finding anything further on him. I then searched for a picture he and I took together years before. It had popped up in my old photos just about three days ago. I thought how odd. The photo was during Christmas time. 

I had never known his name till that time years ago, when he and I posed to convince my daughters that I was friends with Santa Claus. We both smiled, my arm around him. I was guggling as we took the selfie. We were inside a local coffee shop. 

That night, it was brutal.out. Wind whipping, windchill at or near zero. Bone chilling, to say the least..

I knew he needed a meal. I asked him what he liked to eat. He was not particular. I thanked him and went to the cashier and bought a warmed panini and a coffee for him. Had them deliver it as I gave instructions it be delivered to where he sat. This was so he didn't feel obligated in any way to me. Then I went shopping. 

I came back and he thanked me. Unreal. Philip Balpasso, you are already missed. Both my kids are already missing you. Even though they are nearly both adults now.---Jody-Lynn Reicher 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Completion of Humanness

Completion of Humanness As we arrive to the completion of the first year without Norman, I had decided long before he'd passed that I would continue to do things certain things he liked yet could no longer do. I decided I would not take a day off of fitness.  I would run at least for 500 days in a row. I began that in early 2020.  I'd not be concerned with the distance I'd run. It was the very thing I convinced Norman and the thing that mattered to him, from the very first discussion we had August 11th, 1981, was fitness. I loved that he was a College Boy. He loved that I was a Marine. We tickled each other's soul with such admirations. Later fitness continued as an old discussion from 1994 ...getting outside and to run no matter what. I would say to him, "Run 200 meters, then 400 meters. If it doesn't feel good, stop. Turn around and walk back home and know you did your best. That is all you can ask of yourself." I said this,  knowing he would get dow

In My World

As I finish putting away the week's groceries, I contemplate other's lives. Aside from my two daughters,  I consider what may be other's lives.  How they have conducted their lives over the past two years.  This is a thought not unusual for me to have. Yet, it occurs more often than not. Especially  now, as the population is probably feeling ever more irked. Regarding perhaps. their illusion of any lack of their freedom. But isn't that what life is about? The illusion of who we are. What we are about. Where we stand on the planet. Who we love. And who loves us. Our significance. Couldn't we imagine if this were all just an illusion? Sounds like a "Twighlight Zone" episode, perhaps. My aim here, are the thoughts of reckoning. I'll explain why I'm claiming such a thing. For about twenty-eight years of a career in dealing with injured athletes,  pain patients, chronically ill and the terminally ill. I found that there were many people who lied to

Reicher's 2021 Holiday Letter

  11/23/2021... The Reicher Holiday Letter... Yes, finally I'm on time...LOL. As the late November wind whips and the delayed leaves fall to the ground in our neighborhood, I await the first sign of snow. I stand outside, begin a run, do outside chores, bring in the mail and sniff the air for the smell of snow. Yes, humans can smell snow. Just like a spring rain approaching. It is awaiting to provide a cleansing of the dreams that need to be refreshed or re-routed. It’s all how you look at it. Really. Oh, the word ‘really’.   Per a few grammar writing geeks. A good writer is not supposed to use the word, ‘really’. I’ll say it again. Really? There is another word I discovered this year, not supposed to be used in writing by writers. I cannot at this moment remember what word that may be.   But I’m sure, it’ll arrive in my mind as I write this Holiday letter to you all. A reading audience. Where to begin this 2021 Reicher Holiday Letter? I’ll start with our smallest resident. T