Peace in Death
The Gianiny family gathered in a tight bundle
in the bright light of the late afternoon. The open floor plan of the rented
beach house was dwarfed by the presence of the entire family gathered in one
room around one man. Jonathan Gianiny, the youngest son of Lyle and Margaret
Gianiny, had just arrived for the family’s annual beach trip.
The journey up the stairs to greet the family
had been different this year. Jonathan required the help of four adults to get
up the stairs, because he could not get out of his wheelchair nor unhook
himself from the oxygen tank that was carried only a few feet behind him by his
wife, Carol.
The difference this year, was that Jonathan
would have to sleep on the couch upstairs, and not because the house was short
on beds, but because this year, Jonathan was dying.
Jonathan Gianiny, more lovingly deemed Jon by
his family members, was welcomed into the world by Lyle and Margaret in 1954.
This put him last in line of three siblings, Carole and Lynn Gianiny preceding
him, the latter only by two years.
The family grew up very close. Lyle, who had
two brothers and one sister, and Margaret, who had two sisters, kept their
children close to their cousins. The families even started an annual trek to Ocean
City, MD, the beach closest to their Washington, D.C. home.
When the families got older, it was harder to
plan the Ocean City trips, but Lyle and Margaret made sure that their children
and grandchildren were able to continue the tradition by funding the rental of
a beach house in Duck, NC.
Jon,
who was normally the tallest and most burley member of the family, had to stay
horizontal on the couch throughout his stay at the beach. Instead of setting up
the canopy, as was custom, he had to helplessly stay inside. The son, brother,
husband, uncle, and stepfather, who once had a decided, but undeniably goofy
presence, was forced into quiet. It took so much effort for Jon to speak that
he would get winded.
Jon’s
condition undeniably took the toll on the family, but they were determined not
to let him see their grief. There were muffled sobs coming from unopened doors
and whispered conversations that would come to a halt when others would impede.
But the Gianiny family, though dealing with their grief, was planning something
else: how to make Jon feel less sick for the days he was at the beach.
Jon
met his wife, Carol, 13 years ago. Jon, who had just ended a long-term
relationship, and Carol, who was recently divorced, seemed to be a perfect fit.
It wasn’t long before Jon brought Carol, along with her children, Angela and
Jesse Foy, along on the annual beach trip. The two were married a year later in
a church in Leesburg, VA.
Carol,
who was an avid Christian, and Jon began to attend church regularly, more increasingly
in the most recent years when they found a place they felt was their spiritual
home at Church of the Holy Spirit.
The
Christian faith that Jon and Carol had been building over the years was put to
the test when, just after the couple had purchased their dream home, a small
farm outside of Leesburg, Jon was diagnosed with liver cancer.
The
Gianiny family gathered around Jon, on the floor or in chairs. The family had
to weave in and out of electric cords that were attached to the amp that sat beside
the television. Jon’s son-in-law, Nathaniel Davis, had brought his electric
guitar and Jon’s niece, Caroline Noel, had brought her acoustic guitar. Jon,
who was a drummer, did not have a set of drums. He was not strong enough to
play them anymore. But Nathaniel had brought a drum board, which even with the
lightest of touches would emit sound. He placed the board in Jon’s hands, who
then tapped his fingers over the various buttons to get his bearings. He looked
up at his family and smiled. Hours of music ensued.
The
family gathered in the living room every night that week, instruments and
voices creating a cacophony of sound. Carol had brought as binder full of his
favorite Christian songs, and even those who neither knew nor liked them joined
in because they knew it was what Jon wanted. Even his parents, who weren’t fans
of Led Zeppelin, honored Jon’s request when he longed to play “The Song Remains
the Same.” He would go to bed exhausted each evening, but he would frequently
whisper “One more!”
Even
more pressing of an issue than the nightly “Hooten-Gianiny” was how to get Jon
down to the beach to see the ocean.
Jon,
who was very weak, was able to come to the beach because of the devotion of
family. But they, alone, could not provide all of the services and equipment he
would need. It was with the help of Hospice that Jon truly was able to make it
to the beach.
Hospice
provides many services to its patients, including providing equipment,
counseling and therapies in addition to the patient’s medical regimen. The main
goal of Hospice is to provide care on more than one level. They function under
the assumption that “those involved in the process of dying have a
variety of physical, spiritual, emotional and social needs. The nature of dying
is so unique that the goal of the hospice team is to be sensitive and
responsive to the special requirements of each individual and family.”
Lynn,
Jon’s sister, began searching the phone books for Hospice services in Duck, NC.
If they could not provide a way to get Jon down to the beach, she was sure that
there would be some service like it that could provide the family with a way to
get him off of the couch and onto the sand.
She
found a free lifeguard service that assisted in taking the disabled to the
beach. She called the service and they set up an appointment to come and pick
him up later that day.
The
lifeguard arrived in a van that was large enough to carry three of Jon. He got
out and helped the family take Jon down from the top-most floor and into the vehicle
that would take him to the beach. The drive was less than 30 seconds, but the
last feat was to get Jon up the boardwalk and down the sandy stairs that led to
the family’s canopy. The lifeguard, with the help of the family, easily got Jon
down onto the beach.
Jon’s
sisters dug, with their hands, a hole in front of Jon. Lynn took a bucket down
to the water, filled it to its brim, and poured the fresh ocean water into the
hole. Jon placed his feet inside the warm water and smiled. He stayed there for
an hour, a task that had seemed impossible only the day before. The lifeguard
returned for Jon, as helpful on the return as he was on the way down.
The
next day, Carol decided quite early in the day that she should take Jon home.
She said he just seemed like he needed to go home after so many exhausting days
at the beach. She and her daughter gathered their things in less than an hour
before they were ready to pack Jon in the car.
The
same four men to bring Jon upstairs gently took him back down again. Behind him
was a precession of family, young and old, waiting to say goodbye. He was
gently placed in the car before he was bombarded by hugs and kisses from the
mob of family that stood outside of the car.
“It was almost cinematic,” Lynn said. “Everyone
said goodbye.”
The
next afternoon, the family got a call from Carol. Jon had died at 2:30 p.m.
“He said “I have to go now,” and he was gone,”
Carol said.
Three
days later, the family was gathered, not inside a drafty beach house, but a
sweltering church that dated back to the Civil War. The cousin’s from Jon’s
childhood arrived in droves. The church, which could hold less than 100, was
packed. Jon’s fellow congregates at the Church of the Holy Spirit were also
there. The people who stood in and flowed out of the church were there for one
reason: to celebrated Jon’s life.
The
worship band from Church of the Holy Spirit played many of Jon’s favorite
songs. His pastor led the services as a friend would have, less concerned with
ritual than love. Lynn, who was deemed to write a eulogy, took her place at the
pulpit before the grieving group. She used humor to invoke laughter, Jon’s
favorite sound.
“I
know he wouldn’t want us to cry,” Carole, his oldest sister, said, “but it’s
okay to cry a little bit. We just miss him.”
Hospice,
who provided care to Jon in his last days, also provides care to the family in
the aftermath of a death. They provide support groups and ways to find them.
The international foundation has a local chapter almost everywhere. Hospice, in
most places, provides this grief support for as long as a year. Carol is
currently utilizing the services and has found a support group.
But
the biggest support for Carol and the rest of the Gianiny family has been each
other. In the months following Jon’s death, the family has added a lot of gas
mileage to their cars. The road trips, which can be as long as five hours, are
for support in the loss of a loved one, of Jonathan Gianiny.
The
Gianiny family will again take their annual beach trip in the summer of 2010 to
spread Jon’s ashes. In his last days, he had spoken to Carol about what to do
with his remains. He deemed Duck, NC, his final resting place, as it was his
favorite place in the world.
Though
the family will be mourning Jon’s death next July, they will be celebrating his
memory, as well as new life. His nephew, Andrew Giacomazzi, just welcomed a
baby girl, Nicole, on the morning of Nov. 20.
