“She is part of me, so here I am whole,” he said. “Being here makes me feel better. Not good, but better. I do it for Julita, and for myself.”
Among the belongings he carried daily to the cemetery was a photograph of a lovely woman with green eyes and dark hair. On the back, she had written: “Today the sky smiles to me. I see you. You look at me. Today I believe in God. With all my love, Julita.”
“On cold days Rocky wears a patched and faded green parka. He owns other coats, but Julita knew this one best, so he will not change. He greets Julita — ‘I am here!’ Then he unfolds a blue beach chair — he leaves it every night against her headstone — placing it on a piece of plywood to keep it from sinking into the soft earth. Then Rocky relaxes, reading, writing, and reflecting. For exercise and to keep warm, he walks around nearby headstones engraved Cicciu, St. Clair, Doyle, Galvin, and Daley.
“He rarely eats or drinks, in part out of respect but also so he does not need a bathroom. On special occasions he toasts Julita with sparkling cider; he will do so Dec. 20, her birthday. Some days he brings a cassette player. On one tape they sing together, a Spanish lullaby. Rocky’s strong tenor is answered by Julita’s sweet soprano. Hearing Julita’s voice brings a smile to his face, a mist to his clear blue eyes.
“When dark comes, Rocky prays. He sprinkles crumbs on the grave, so chipmunks will keep Julita company after he has gone. Sadness returning, he says goodbye. He rubs her name on the red granite stone. The ritual has left an indelible mark.”
Over time, what began as a personal act of mourning touched dozens of others who came to the cemetery. Former strangers brought him meals, boots, hats, and scarves, and they decorated Julita’s grave with plants, ceramic angels, flags, and stuffed animals. He told them stories and shared his wisdom about life and love.
“I think he had a realization at that point that we need to let go and we need to continue to live,” his daughter said.His last visit was in July, before he fell ill.
