Vincent's Gift
Vincent's Gift I'm on a train heading back to Charlottesville from New Jersey. Yesterday, my sister and I were back in SUNY Downstate to attend the annual lecture series held in Vincent's memory for incoming medical residents on mental health awareness.
I believe this is our seventh year, maybe -- and every year I go, the residents seem to look younger and younger. Perhaps that reflects my getting older. What I always take back is how - every time I saw those youthful faces - that I didn't realize how young and- perhaps vulnerable - Vincent was. And the sadness I feel is how they will never get to know the person that Vincent was.
The truth is Vincent provided many a milestone in my and my family's lives. I was all of 17 years old when Vincent was born. My first-born nephew, my parents' first grandchild, I still remember quite vividly the joyful moment we got the long-distance call of Vincent's birth. My sister brought him home to visit when he was about a year old, and that visit highlighted Vincent's budding showmanship, including his amusing version of the elephant-in-a-circus-hind-leg-raise. He was so engaging that even my grandmother, who was by then living with us and afflicted with dementia, chuckled with clear pleasure and joy. My father was so thrilled over his first grandchild's visit, that he got his name and initials on Vincent's own little rocking chair, a canoe, even Christmas ornaments. Vincent quickly became the apple of the family's eyes.
I came to visit the US when Vincent was about 4 years old, and he accompanied me and my other sister, also Vincent's aunt, to Orlando, Florida and the then newly opened DisneyWorld. By now, Vincent has become a feisty little boy. Our pictures were self-evident: he managed to turn his back from the camera at the count of three -- so most of our pictures showed Vincent's back, not his face. Yes, he did not like to follow orders.
He loved creepy creatures, and during his visits to the Phiippines as a young boy, was known to keep live lizards in small match boxes. He had such a fascination for dinosaurs, and impressed us with his early knowledge of the names - and distinct features - of all types of dinosaurs. His favorite was the T-Rex and he kept a big enough plastic model in his room.
Vincent soon became the older brother and the older cousin, and although he was known to be quite a prankster as young boys are, he started to exhibit the compassionate and sensitive nature that I believe will define his growing years. By now my husband and I have moved to the US, and with the birth of our first child and daughter, Vincent - about 12 at that time, became the caring older cousin. One of my fondest memories of this period was a routine we established while I was on maternity leave: my 2 sisters and I lived about 2 miles from each other, so I'd bundle up the baby, put her in the car, we'd drive to pick up the 3 boys after school: Vincent, his younger brother, and their younger cousin, my other nephew, and drive them through their paper route. Then we'd head off back to my house for snacks and they'd play with the baby before doing homework. Vincent led the charge in game-making including all sorts of drawing exercises.
His sharp wit and clever sense of humor was, by now clearly evident. Vincent had a characteristic chuckle, and he seemed to find humor in just about everything. He made us all laugh, including my mother, whose rich vocabulary and distant formality he learned to lovingly mimic, and this endeared him even more to her.
It became clear early on that Vincent was smart; he also competed successfully as a young swimmer, and showed promise as a painting artist. My husband would say that Vincent's free-style is one of the smoothest he has ever seen, and he would leave us with many wonderful water-color and charcoal sketches.
Still -- for all the gregariousness and friendliness that Vincent showed, in restrospect, I'd say he was quite a private person. We kinda knew who he was seeing, especially in high-school: the girl he took to the prom, the girl who stops by the "study" -- but he never really discussed his private life.
My kids, who have known him all their lives, adored Vincent. He was the older cousin who tickled them, messed up their toys, ordered them around - and yet, I knew that they knew how much he loved them. Vincent had that knack of being able to relate with you, and leaving you with the feeling that he cared for you.
My father, Vincent's name-sake, died just before Vincent finished high-school, with one of his dreams never being fulfilled : that of having one of his children become a doctor. He would always talk about this -- and I've always wondered if this had anything to do with Vincent's decision later on to enter medical school.
When Vincent went away to college, we did not seem him much, except for some school breaks, as he tended to stay in campus or go elsewhere. When he did come home on school breaks, he would organize a "Great Flags" adventure among the younger kids: his brother, my other sister"s son, and my kids. Those were hallmark moments for all of them, always preceded by a gathering of Coke cans for discounted tickets.
Christmas is a big family tradition, so we always saw him at Christmas. And although the kids were bigger children by now, Vincent continued to lead the charge with the game-making, the tickling, the ordering around. And there was no question : we simply loved having Vincent around.
Vincent earned his Bio-Medical Engineering degree with honors, and that seemed to be a fitting preparation for medical school. He continued to attend Tulane University in New Orleans. Vincent's life through medical school was a blur for me, probably because of the demands of my own life : raising two children, running a household and pursuing a career - so it seemed that Vincent's graduation from medical school just came suddenly. It was a glorious day in New Orleans, with the band playing "When the saints come marching in". We imagined our father beaming with pride from heaven: his grandson, his namesake, is a doctor.
It almost seems now that as quick this elation came, tragedy struck and we lost Vincent. He died of suicide on August 25, 1998, a brief two months after he started his surgical residency. Shock was probably the only feeling more intense than the pain and grief over his loss. We had no idea that this was coming. We still don't.
One of the medical aides who came to pay her respects during Vincent's funeral service told me that she knew Vincent for less than a month - but she quickly became fond of Vincent and enjoyed bringing him banana chips. Our son, Philip, 10 years old at that time, spoke of how a "day without Vincent was like a day without sunshine".
Vincent's death was life-changing for me. Shortly after his death, I left my high-charging corporate career in search for higher purpose. I reset my expectations of my children and tried to instill in them a sense of freedom to choose how they will define success. I set up a not-for-profit, Vincent's Gift, as a way of channeling funding to programs to inform and educate about mental health.
It is hard to believe that Vincent has been gone for over 14 years. In his life, he gave us joy, laughter, and compassion. His death reminded me of how fragile life is, and made me realize how important it is for me to live and work with a sense of purpose, to make a difference, and to always be mindful of my well-being and create an environment that nurtures the well-being of others. Thank you, Vincent.
