Just Smile: We love and miss Anthony Pontarelli.

 I don’t usually gush on about personal things on our blog.  I love the opportunity to use our blog to genuinely praise our couples, vendors we work with and describe the musings we have that make us continue on as artists.  But occasionally, I get side swiped by life’s cyclical motion and my heart and mind need to be cleared. 

Two weeks ago, I lost an uncle who was very dear to me.  I looked up to him in many ways and love his wife and grown children.  My aunt is an adorable woman, a talented artist, and always made me feel like my creative inclinations were sound and necessary.  My uncle instilled the spirit of the entrepreneur in me and helped solidify my appreciation for florals and weddings in general, as he owned a floral shop for a very long time. 

My uncle lost a sudden and painful battle with stomach cancer.  When we got the news of his diagnosis, I was devastated; Casey and I had witnessed his Father’s painful war with cancer  four years ago before he died.  When” Unc” was moved to hospice only eight weeks later, I was relieved that he would soon be free from pain and onto his next journey.  I thought that I was fine and that though I was sad, this was just a part of life.  But it was important for me to attend the funeral out of state.  My mother also insisted as he was her brother that her children represent, but it was important even before.

I rode in a mini van for a combined total of 8 hours each way with most of my grown siblings and two of their well loved spouses.  The surreal trip was just like a script, odd occurrences, unusually elevated behavior and even some hilarity and fun.  But as we pulled up to my Aunt Ann’s house with disco music blaring, cheering “hey!”, we were instantly reminded by the look on her face that this was not a typical family party.  We all retracted our mood and slowly breathed in the loss before entering the kitchen filled with familiar family recipes and nostalgic aromas.  We scanned the room to see who needed a hug, a tissue, a shoulder or a stiff drink.  We, my family and I, came to the rescue as we often were responsible for providing the frivolity for any occasion. 

But this time, it wasn’t easy to remain jovial.  We all knew that we lost someone so unique and beautiful.  But more than that, we all looked at each other knowing that someday we would all have to stand around and do the same for one another.  My Uncle Anthony’s death drove the point home that even the strongest of families and bonds of love, are temporary.  We have limited time on this earth and we must make the best of it and fill each moment we can with compassion.

For my uncle’s funeral, he had a few requests.  One was to be cremated, to be laid to rest in a military cemetery as it was his right as a soldier who served our country, and for all who gathered around his final resting place to sing a favorite song that described his outlook on life. My father sang this song to me many times when I was growing up.  The lyrics are listed below and were made famous by the great Nat King Cole.