Sunday, March 16, 2014
3/16/2014
I met my brother's fiancé, Joanne Wright, when I was sixteen years old. I found out then that our two families, the Wright's and the Arena's, shared a common link as neighborhood acquaintances growing up on the streets of Brooklyn, NY. Joanne and my brother Matty apparently had a childhood crush on each other that was rekindled in their early twenties and resulted in their marriage. It was a joyous occasion and I was my brother's best man, and very proud of the honor. I also remember that Joanne was the most beautiful bride I had ever seen. The bride and groom both glowed with a youthful vitality that was full of promise and hope for the future.
Two years later, when I had nowhere else to go, I came to live with the newlywed couple in Scranton, PA. They took me in and supported my goals of finishing high school and attending college. We were a tight family, my brother, sister-in-law, myself, and a rescued mutt we named Bambu. I can remember watching Joanne self-injecting her insulin shots faithfully and sending me to the corner store for orange juice and milk all the time. We also used to watch the afternoon soaps together (her stories), and we would discuss the characters and plots as if we actually knew the people! A conversation would start up like this, "Did you hear what so and so did to such and such on blah, blah, blah today...?" It was funny, and, yes, a little pathetic, but it gave us a common bond to communicate with each other. She was many things to me; friend, surrogate mom, sister-in-law, advisor, and cheerleader. I also remember that we were so poor that we used to plan raids to the hangouts of the people we knew in the neighborhood and we were each given missions to come back with cigarette money or grocery money or dog food money or whatever we desperately needed at the time. I stayed on in Scranton for a few years and lost touch with them when they moved to Reading, PA to take advantage a job opportunity for my brother. Their son Matthew was born during those years and I thought they were going to be happy together as a family but, due to alcohol and addiction problems, there was not much to be happy about in the long run. As a married couple, they enjoyed some years of happiness and stability where they had another son together, named him Mikey, and provided a home life that was conducive to raising children and pursuing their dreams.
When I recently saw Joanne at my brother's funeral in November, she didn't recognize me and wasn't sure who I was until one of the other family members told her. I was shocked at her deteriorated health and my heart was so full of compassion for her that I literally supported her on my strong right arm throughout the memorial service, the trip to the cemetery, and the wake afterwards. I realized that day that even though she had been separated from my brother for many years, she still loved him, raised their boys Matthew and Mikey to become good men, and was struggling to survive under adverse circumstances that would have destroyed a weaker person much more readily.
God bless you Joanne. I will miss you very much. When you meet Matty in heaven, tell him I miss him also, and that I will do my best to follow the progress of your two sons and stay connected and available in their lives.
Love eternally,
John Arena
