Lately, even though my cancer has gone into remission and I’ve been able to build a nice online teaching practice, I ask myself why have I been so depressed? Thinking about this I realized I must feel a profound sense of loss.
The first time I actually felt loss was when my grandmother, Angelina De Rosa, passed away. I was 20 years old. Grandma was the matriarch of the family on my mother’s side. I adored my grandmother. As a child, whenever my mother would visit her, I always tagged along. When in high school I would visit her on my own because school was only four blocks away. When I was twenty I was waiting for a new car to be delivered from the dealer when she went into the hospital. A few weeks later the car came and I was the designated driver for my mother and her sisters. It was the first time I visited her. She was in a coma.
I said to her “hello Grandma”. She came out of the coma and asked , “ did you get your new car?” I answered, “yes”, and she went back into the coma. It was the only time she woke up .
A few days later she died. Instead of feeling loss, I was angry and it lasted a few years.
Then my Aunt Mildred suddenly died when a blood vessel in her brain burst. We were all in shock. I was very close to her and her children. She would babysit my brother when my mother went back to work and as a teenager I spent my summers in Huntington Long Island with them. Loss
My Aunt Christiana died after that. She was matriarch after my grandmother. Loss. As children we spent every Saturday night at her house. While the parents played polka, the kids ( my cousins) would play together. To this day I am grateful for that time because my cousins and I are still very close. Christina’s son Victor died shortly after that. Loss
My Aunt Ameilia died a while back and the truth is I don't remember why, but it was a shock to the family as well as my Uncle Frank. He died of lung cancer. Because he serve in the army during World War II, he was given a Veteran's burial with a four gun salute. It was very impressive but I still felt horrible when he died and I sometimes think of him whenever I shave. He taught and gave me my first shave when I was 13 years old. Loss.
Then in December, 1976, my father died. That night staying at my mother’s house I was trying to sleep but I couldn’t stop crying when suddenly I heard my father say to me ,“ go to sleep Dom, go to sleep”. The next thing I knew it was the next morning. For months I could feel my father’s presence. Loss. About three months later I knew he was gone. I hardly ever feel him now and its’ been 42 years.
After my father the next devastating loss was my cousin Vera.
Vera was absolutely beautiful. Both my mother and I adored her Whenever I would take my mother to visit her sister Florence I would visit with Vera who lived upstairs. Carol and I visited her when she was at Roosevelt hospital for a special operation for Pancreatic cancer. Although she was 66 years old, she looked like she did when she was 28. When she died I couldn’t stop weeping. It was like I was saying goodbye to part of my childhood.
The next big loss was my mother. Oddly enough even though my brother and I were at her bedside when she died, it brutally affected me then. I hardly felt her around after her passing and the loss didn’t last long.
When my close friend, pianist Dennis Moorman died it was a shock. Dennis and I were friends and musical partners since the mid-eighties. We created some great music together. Dennis was on dialysis for years. The first time he had a kidney transplant he almost died. 20 years later he decided to have another one. His wife Linette called and said he was in the hospital. Carol and I rushed to see him. He looked great. He was happy and smiling.
The next day Linette called and told us the transplant didn’t work and Dennis had died. Linette spoke to Carol first. She was concerned how it would affect me since I had open heart surgery a few months before. It affected me badly. At the wake and at the burial I was beside myself bawling like a child. That feeling stayed for a while, but eventually I settled down, but I miss him and our music and our conversations. He once said he considered me “one of the brothers”. Loss.
My Aunt Virginia died a few years ago. It was a shock that lasted a long time. My Aunt Virginia, my Uncle Tony and me would take my mother to see her oncologist every few months.
We actually had a good time and it was nice being together.
After my mother died I would speak to my aunt Virginia every week or every other week just to see how she was doing. It kept me close to the family. All my Aunts and Uncles and some cousins are gone and I miss them all. Loss.
There have been other losses throughout the years. My cousin Donna died a few years ago and it was a hard one to handle. She was the first one to meet my wife Carol because she picked us up at the train station to go to an anniversary party. Loss
I’ve been fortunate throughout my life having many friends, but 'best friends' is another story. One of my best friends is Mitchell May. We met on the worse musical job in the city.
That’s a whole another story. Mitchell ( bass) and I formed a duo and a trio with another friend, drummer Tony Lupo who I met in 1962 and stayed friends till his death 3 years ago. The two or three of us would rehearse at Mitchell’s apartment every week where I got to know his wife Judith and his best friend Jerry. Jerry eventually married Dorothy and we all became good friends. Then Jerry died-loss. Next was Dorothy-loss, but the biggest loss was Judith. Till this day Mitchell feels the loss and I feel it through him.
When my childhood friend, Joe Mattera, decided not to have dialysis for treatment of his failing kidneys I knew it would be days if not hours before he died. Joe was my childhood big brother.
He taught me how to play sports and he was my biggest musical fan. He had all my recordings and when he came back to visit his daughter in New York City, he always made sure we could get together. When I was asked to say something at his zoom memorial, I wrote two pages about our friendship but I was too upset to read it. My wife Carol took over for me. I was also asked to record a Monk tune for him which I did. They used the music for background as photographs of Joe throughout his lifetime were shown. Loss
My wife, Carol’s mother passed and I was in the room when her father died and a year ago her brother passed. I still feel her pain and a sense of loss.
Throughout the years many of my musician friends have passed giving me a sense of loss, but none has affected me as much as the recent last four.
Five months ago, my wife’s best friend, Ann Ratray passed away.
Ann ( actor, teacher and former Miss Rhode Island and winner of the the Miss Congeniality at the Miss America contest) and Carol were best friends since they were teenagers. I met Anne in 1989. Both Carol and Ann lived in the same building.
Ann immediately accepted me as part of her family. We celebrated every Christmas Eve together. Her son Devin (Home Alone’s Buzz) took guitar lessons from me and Luke photographed me for my press kit and her husband, Peter and I have been good friends for years and he cuts my hair once a month.
When Ann got sick, she was eventually bedridden for months and then one afternoon Luke (her oldest son) called and said the end was near. Carol and I went downstairs, but Ann was hanging on. We left to have a quick dinner but Luke called and said Anne had passed.
Both Carol and I went downstairs and we saw Ann, lying in her pink robe, gone. It’s an image that stays with me all the time. Loss
A few weeks later we had to put to sleep our cat Cole. The year before his brother Trane died. Both of our cats were like our children. We literally spent thousands on Trane to save him, but nothing worked and a year later Cole had the same affliction. We had a choice. Go the same route we did with Trane or just let his suffering end. We chose the latter. But I still feel him constantly around. A few times I called out to him. He slept my arms every night. The pain of watching him die was horrible and I haven’t let go yet. Loss
Then a few weeks later my best friend of 78 years Frank Montella, passed away. We grew up together. Our Mother's pushed us in baby carriages as they took their daily walks. We were always there for each other. Frank served as a Medic in Vietnam. After his service he became a loud voice for the Vets Against The War. The hole in my heart has not healed and I feel him every day. Loss
Pat Martino, Legendary Jazz Guitarist died three weeks ago.
Pat and I were friends since
1976. Besides being friends he was an inspiration to me and thousands. Although I knew it was coming, for he had been sick for 3 years, his
death hit me like a ton of bricks and I constantly feel him around. Loss
Anne, Cole, Frank and Pat: I walk with them inside me everyday and I hurt. If it had been months or even a year between their passing I think I would have handled it better, but practically all at once is too much. I find myself welling up with tears and hurting. In fact ( I'm not ashamed to admit) writing this has me in tears.
Realizing the root of my depression I thought it would somehow ease my pain, but it only reminds me why I’m so depressed. As the old adage says:
Time heals all things. Hopefully, in time this will be true.
Dom Minasi
