I Will Start – Garfield Heights Funeral Homes

My experience with funeral homes as a kid was always positive.  I had two uncles who were more like older brothers who worked for Golubski Deliberato in Garfield Heights, OH.  They always spoke of the Deliberatos with the utmost respect.  I went to high school with one of the family’s sons and he was one of the coolest cats I had ever encountered.  My freshman self could not figure out how to relate.  At one point, pretty sure I got the courage to mumble something like, “Hey, my uncles worked for your family.”  As I recall, he kindly smiled a little and said, “Oh.”

Years later, when one of those uncles died suddenly, our family turned to the Deliberatos and I encountered a more down to earth but still very kind version of that young man as a funeral director.

My deceased uncle was a cop.  I don’t think he was a fan of bagpipes (he was really more into show tunes) and neither am I (my feelings on shows tunes are mixed, at best).  Regardless, bagpipes get played at police funerals, I guess.  Up until the point where the bagpipes hit it, I had maintained my composure.  I get why people sometimes fall down with grief.  When you’re holding back, it can tsunami you in two.

Bagpipes still get me in the feels, even if I don’t love them.

That same high school had two attendees from another Garfield Heights funeral home.

They were two Rybicki sons who were closer to my age and we became friends.

My family is totally blue-collar.  Blacksmiths, coal miners, machinists, teachers, nurses are pretty much what we do.  The Rybicki family always treated me kindly, despite that they were obviously doing okay as a small family run business.

They invited me to weekend getaways.  At the time, I was grateful but did understand money at all or what it really meant to invite some strange, poor kid on your weekend family vacation.  I do now and I marvel at their generosity.

Their greatest kindness occurred when I was hanging out at their home above the business one evening.  For some reason, I and their boys had a bottle of nail polish remover or rubbing alcohol out to clean something.  I accidentally knocked the thing over and watched in horror as it stripped the finish on their very nice coffee table in the shape of the flume of chemicals pouring into the carpet.  This had to represent hundreds of dollars of damage – maybe thousands.  My friends were freaking out as the table was of obvious significance.

Their mom was upset when she was called in to figure out what to do, but she didn’t yell at me or them.  She could tell I was freaked out too and despite my efforts to pledge as many hours as it took helping around the funeral home to pay for the repairs, she refused.  She was gentle and kind.  If my kids’ friends ever destroy something in my own home, I hope I can follow her lesson.