Alzheimer's is a ruthless thief but all this remains a truth.
Paul and I go back to the late nineteen seventies. Paul and Dorine are both gone now so all that's left is my spotty memory of all those years. The long and short of it is that we laughed - long and hard - all of us. Our circle of friends and acquaintences were largely the children of working class parents. Humor was the only entitlement any of us inherited.
Paul and I met in a CETA program intended to instruct us to become Information technologists. We commuted together, shared the same tastes in music, recreational pastimes, and entertainment. We became and stayed the closest of friends.
Paul was a hell of a pinball player. More often than not his scores bested mine. We spent a bachelor's fortune on beer and pinball. We partied at every opportunity.
In the earliest of the eighties, we began to write songs together and before long invited Dave Micloskey and Wayne Cote to join. We created many songs together and Paul and Dave created many solely their own. The band, Sonny Munroe and [we'd fill in this blank with some absurdly inappropriate and thoroughly offense filler] was always the common denominator for all of it.
Paul and Dorine and I took a vacation to England in the early eighties. There's a picture somewhere of Paul and I crossing Abbey Road. We bought Beatle boots on King's Road. This, a pilgrimage of sorts.
Dorine's encouragement and tolerance of Thursday night basement band nights was saintly. She and Paul were generous with their time, friendship, and goodwill always. I can't remember it ever being otherwise.
Paul was an avid reader. One of his favorite books and recommendations was A Fan's Notes by Frederick Exley - an obscure masterpiece and archetype for our sense of humor.
Well into the nineties we attended concerts big and small. We listened to everything new in music. The more esoteric the better. We made ear worm mix-tapes for each other.
With middle-age, families, and orthogonal life trajectories our visits and mutual contact became occasion.
Paul has had Alzheimer's for at least a decade. At first, it was imperceptable. No big deal.
About five years ago, I visited and Paul was different. Passive and cautious. We sat in his beautifully cared for backyard and our conversation was dull. Paul was quiet and seemingly incapable of a next thought or follow-up response. I asked what he was reading and he pulled out a rock-and-roll book of essays.
The last time, the band got together with Paul was at Dave and Nancy's home. This was just before the Covid lockdowns. Dorine dropped him off with his guitar. He was there physically but he held his guitar vertically in his lap like a bottle to be held on to. He had no idea what to do with it. It broke us.
I asked Dorine if I could drop off some books but she doubted he could read anymore.
Dorine loved Paul more than I ever imagined. She cared and visited him daily when he was in managed care. She arranged a few video chat opportunities with Paul but aside from a few familiar physical ticks, Paul and I never again truly communicated. She kept the faith and I think she was his last recognizable relation to society.
I'm glad his ordeal is over. We were kindred spirits in this life and I loved him and Dorine dearly. May their afterlife be filled with joy, adventure, and side-splitting laughter.
see: https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/southington-ct/paul-gudaitis-10955884