Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Goodnight, Sweet Prince

Around the 5am hour on May 4th, my father passed away. I had been meaning to finish his story this year and he had sent me a couple of emails with notes about his life here in the States when he arrived from Hungary. The week before his passing he started complaining about chest pain and was admitted to the hospital for observation and a possible valve replacement surgery. During his few days at the hospital he suffered from multiple heart attacks. He was under sedation the entire time. The last time I saw him truly cognizant I had visited him with the kids, he was joking with them to make them feel less worried. He said to them "I will have my surgery on Monday and then BOOM! I will be all better. Do not worry!" He never did get all better. As I walked away from his hospital room, he was eating his lunch and he looked up at me and gave me a wink and a nod. That kind, most beautiful man...how I miss those winks of his.

The day before his passing, my father came to.....for just a few minutes he opened his eyes and was able to understand me when I told him that I loved him, that the kids loved him. He squeezed my hand. He was so uncomfortable with the tubes down his throat, he couldn't speak. He was so fiercely independent and seeing him like this was extremely painful. When it came time to leave, he gave me a thumbs up...it was really all he could do....it would be the last time I saw him alive. Shortly after 5am the next morning I got the call from the hospital...the doctor saying they had tried unsuccessfully to resuscitate him and giving me his condolences. Nothing prepares you for this. Nothing. Ever.

This past week I spoke with a friend who is deeply intuitive. She told me that my father would come to me in the form of something that flies...something that would make itself very obvious. For the past week a very loud little bird has perched itself on the trellis in my backyard at the same time every, single day. He is singing now as I type this. Living in LA we always have birds chirping...but this one is different in tone, and in volume...and in consistency. And has driven me to sit and write this final chapter.

I will not transcribe my father's last bits of information in my own voice, but rather will copy and paste his last emails to me and place them here. In his voice. His words. As it was his life.

To all of you who have read this far...thank you. It means a lot to me. My father was an extraordinary man who lived an extraordinary life....he was selfless and kind, he was a gentleman of the oldschool. He taught me to be the person I am today. I adore him beyond measure.

Story‏ Laszlo Makay - Mercury Media 3/23/16 [Keep this message at the top of your inbox] To: Morayma Makay

January 29, 1957, finally the U.S. Navy’s ship after 10 days stormy voyage, middle of night, stopped a few miles before Newark, NJ. Many refugees who woke up went upstairs then we saw Newark in night. We felt exited. January 30th at 9 a.m. the ship started to move to the port. At the port, the Army’s orchestra welcomed us with the Hungarian anthem. Then we slowly moved down to the Army buses. The army officers handed President Eisenhower’s welcoming/greeting letter. We went to Camp Kilmer army base which that time was refugees reception center. There I was for 10 days. I enjoyed the military breakfast, lunch, and dinner. At the end a bus took me to the railway station. I was going to Los Angeles, California. To Cleveland, Chicago, El Paso 4th day early morning I arrived Union Station. There my cousin Magda waited for me. Taxi took us to her home. I got breakfast. Then we went to the rented furnished apartment. So started my life’s new chapter. I was so happy to see hard to believe the good life in America. In 1957, affordable furnished apartment. I started to learn English. Soon I got a job at Citizens National Bank/Crocker Bank, Supply department. I did such menial job. I was surprised that many Hungarians are lived in California. I found Hungarian church and Hungarian Club House. 2 Hungarian newspapers. I helped in founding a Hungarian Boy Scouts in Exile. Time passed. I could write and read English. Since English in not a phonetic language, so communicating in English was extremely difficult.

In 1950s the life and so the economic situation was fantastic. Every Sunday, after church (mass) in the parish hall we had good lunch for $1.00. Now it is $7.00. my first apartment rent was $40.00 and the utilities were included. Now it is unbelieve. Such apartments are $1,400.00 I could afford to have dinner in the restaurants. Then a good dinner cost me $2.00 or 3.00. everything were affordable. (except Rolls Royce) Postage stamp was 3 cents.Shirt was $ 4.00, and 5.00. time to time the Hungarians got married, I was many weddings. We had a great social events. Hungarian balls etc.

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My story‏ My story Laszlo Makay - Mercury Media 3/23/16 [Keep this message at the top of your inbox] To: Morayma Makay

In the meantime, for 11 years I had a girl-friend. We played tennis, ping-pong, went to skiing, traveling to many areas. The friendship ended because of her chain smoking. Once in July 4th 1972 Nemeth Vince and his wife invited me to a barbecue party in the Palisades Park. They asked me to help other friend, Nagy Laszlo who had a new friend Tere Kennedy. So I picked them up in the morning and went to the party. Tere is a cheerful, sweet young lady. Too sweet. Since then we were dating. We had a beautiful wedding in 11th street Methodist church. After wedding party we went to Santa Barbara honeymoon. Our first home was 1022 Second Street, Santa Monica. Since then we used visiting or accepting lunch or dinner invitations of Hungarian friends. The time passed too fast then my beautiful little Morayma arrived on May 25th. Coincidentally on my niece’s birthday. Morayma grew up too fast. Two years later, my mother came to visit my family. It was too sweet. Elementary school … we moved to 9th st. where I could still walk to the beach. I would take Morayma to walk in the Pallisades Park and feed the squirrels and watch her climb the trees, few year later again moved to Tampa FL.

Now again, I have to work. Make a list or I will tell you coming Sunday. Or I will type more tomorrow. I love you. I am always so proud of you. You are a strong woman like my mama was.