Pt 6: A Complex Life of Family, Faith and Unending Love
The Story of Louis J. Corbo (my grandfather)
In part 5, Louis made the best of his life as a single man, enjoyed retirement and was able to renew some favorite childhood pastimes such as fishing. He adored his grandchildren and evolved even further when his great-grandchildren came along, enjoying the attention of the littles as they “made him up” with crowns, nail polish and fairy wings.
If you missed the previous installments, you can catch up: Part 5, Part 4, Part 3, Part 2, Part 1
Memory lost. Perspective gained.
When Louis was 79 years old, he was still living in his own apartment, a few blocks from Vivian, where he had lived for at least a decade. Her husband had died in 1984. She died in 2000, to the great sorrow of Louis. They had grown closer as friends as they watched their grandchildren and great-grandchildren grow up and was noted as a “special friend” in her obituary. In 1996, Vivian had reflected on Louis’ qualities, “They were all good family qualities. Wouldn’t change a one. He is a good man. I loved him then and still do in a different way.” For his part, he declared that he never stopped loving Vivian.
As an older man, he did his own grocery shopping and cooking — homemade spaghetti sauce with pork — as he had for most of his adult life. He attended church in the old neighborhood every Sunday, going to Confession as needed, and in between he watched a lot of movies, especially gangster movies. When he would visit with his Eastside friends and siblings, he took photo copies of photographs that had been taken over the years. He put together two five-inch binders full of copied photos and old news clippings. Sadly in the year 2008, Louis was starting to show signs of dementia. He was having auditory hallucinations that were resulting in irrational and irregular behavior.
David and Kathy had the difficult task of asking their father to turn over the keys to his car and consider moving into an assisted living facility. They had found a newly constructed place in Inver Grove Heights, Minnesota. At age 87 Louis didn’t like it at the facility among all the “old people.” The dementia turned him inward and he refused to socialize with the other residents, but he did enjoy visits from his family.
By the time the year 2013 came along, Louis had lost his parents and all of his siblings except for his younger sister Joyce and his younger brother Lincoln. Linc was suffering from Alzheimers and joined him in the facility. Louis remained at Linc’s side at all times — protecting him and keeping him company. Louis was by his side when Linc died 14 March 2014.
His only remaining sibling — Joyce, who was nine years younger — died on Christmas Day in 2015. After her death, Louis’ health took a turn and he was moved from Assisted Living to the Memory Care section. He received regular visitors including Linc’s wife Stella, and many of his nieces and nephews. Of course his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren made visits as well.
In March of 2019, granddaughters Kirsi, Jeni and Jami made what would end up being their final visit. They brought along a collection of photos that included pictures of Louis and his siblings and parents from the 1950s. Though it’s not clear if he knew who Kirsi, Jeni and Jami were, he was able to accurately identify everyone in the photos, including dates of when the photos would have been taken. When Louis saw a picture of his mother — who had been dead since 1988 — he pointed to her and began to cry. “I miss my mama,” he said, while lumps grew in the throats and tears welled in the eyes of his granddaughters. He had been the family’s memory keeper, always knowing who was who and had a little story to tell about them. If only more questions had been asked.
Before they left that day, they pulled out a deck of cards to play Gin — a favorite of Louis’. He played expertly, wincing and swearing under his breath in Italian when the cards weren’t in his favor and laughing with pride when they were.
In his nearly 98 years of life, Louis had received all of the sacraments an unordained person can, including “Anointing of the Sick” on 11 April 2019, a few hours before he passed away.
Quintessential American.
Prior to fulfilling one of his final wishes of cremation, Louis’ grandchildren, who truly were his pride and joy, were able to have a final goodbye at the funeral home. His body, sunken, grey and tiny in the viewing casket looked nothing like the larger-tha- life Grandpa that they had known all of their lives. Though sad to say goodbye, it’s hard to be crippled by grief for the death of a person who has lived nearly a century. And not just any century… “he was born in the roaring 20s, came of age in the Great Depression, he [served] in World War 2, had children in the baby boom and raised them in the rock ’n roll 50s, watching them become parents during the cold war and the cultural and technological upheavals of the 60s, 70s and 80s. If ever there was one, he was a founding member of the “greatest generation.”” These are words that so eloquently eulogized Louis at his funeral on what would have been his 98th birthday in May of 2019 by grandson Todd.
Louis is buried alongside his brother Nick at Roselawn Cemetery in Roseville, Minnesota. Louis had purchased the double plot when Nick died in 2011 near their brother Eugene who had died in 1989. At the ceremony, the grandchildren each laid a single red rose on his tombstone. Great-grandson Cooper Corbo wore his St. Thomas Academy uniform to honor Louis’ commitment to his Catholic faith as well as his military service.
Louis was not perfect, but he tried to live according to the advice he had received from his parents and that he passed down to his children, “Always believe in God. Do best you could. When you wake today live best you could and thank God for that. Have love in your heart - it’s good for your heart and soul.”
Clearly Louis’ faith was strong and continually reinforced by his mother and his father. In their eyes — and in Louis’ — God is good. God loves everyone. Everyone will make mistakes and God will love you anyway.
For most of his life, he was told that his English speaking and writing were his greatest weakness, but he never shied away from using his words to express his deepest feelings. And despite being heart-broken over the breakdown of his marriage to Vivian, he continued to believe in love. So much so, in fact, that he quietly self-published a collection of love poems, only found when he was moved out of his apartment to the assisted living facility in 2008.
This is one of the hardest stories I’ve ever written. So much information and detail to parse through and decide whether to include or not. My hope is that I’ve captured the essence of who my grandfather was - as a young man and as a great-grandfather. In my podcast I speak about how a lot of the information used to create this story were Louis’ own words and why I think it’s important to share the whole of who he was.
Another beautifully written tribute to our ancestry. Very well written and said. DIfficult words at times, but elegantly portrayed in a respectful and meaningful manner.
This final piece brought tears to my eyes. So beautifully written. Thank you for sharing Louis' story.