Uncle Jay at The Paradise Rest(Gerald R Gioglio) “… true friendship… is infinite and immortal.” – Plato-


“You’re killin’ me here!!!”

“Hey! What’s with the white light? Somebody turn down the voltage please?” “I’m blinded already!” “Wherever I am, I hope you don’t expect me to pay the friggin’ electric bill!”

Finally, the intense light eased somewhat as he burst through the wormhole drawing him…to somewhere. He emerged shaken yet curiously comfortable, blinked his eyes and tried to get his bearings. As his vision adjusted, he saw what looked like a blinking sign directly in his path. With great pleasure and astonishment, he gaped at the Marian-blue neon drawing him toward the ‘Paradise Rest.’

He thought, “A bar? Really? Great.” “Hell man, I haven’t had a brewski in what seems like eternity. With any luck the Mets game will be on TV; besides, it’s gotta’ be even darker in there.”

Like most pubs not only was the interior comfortably dark, but this one seemed otherworldly quiet. “What no TV?” he groaned, and then noted there was only one stool in front of a most welcoming and beautifully appointed bar.
“One barstool?” He mused. “What’s up with that and where is everybody? Social distancing is one thing, but enough already.”

Suddenly he noticed an embodied, yet seemingly disembodied entity sort of flow toward him on the other side of the bar. He thought, “Get a load of this guy—is that fruitcake wearing robes? Maybe it’s toga day…if not, his old lady sure dresses him funny.”
Grabbing a seat, Jay beckoned for assistance as he reminisced, “Maybe this place is like New York’s McSorley’s Old Ale House, a joint where they serve two ice-cold mugs at a time.” Smiling, he reflected, “now that’s what I call paradise.”

Flashing penetrating eyes, a knowing smile, and speaking in a spine tingling, yet remarkably comforting monotone the bartender spoke, “Welcome to the Paradise Rest, where rest is paradise and paradise is rest. What are your needs?”

Jay guessed, “Okay, this guy’s gonna’ be a party,” and mulled over renaming the place ‘Crackpots ‘R Us.’” Blowing off the introduction he replied, “What I need is a Bud...or two. Hey, what’s your name anyway?”

“I am Raphael, always and forever.” “And you?”

Feeling the snark Jay said, “Take your pick, they call me Uncle Jay…The Uncle, Your Uncle-ness, J-man, Jay-bird, Baseball Jay. Whatever.”

Raphael replied, “Indeed, this is so… I shall call you Uncle.”

Playing along Jay baited Raphael with, “Nice name you got there Ralphie; you mean like the Archangel Raphael?”

“Yes. I am he. The healer, the one who brings peace.” “Indeed, this is so, it is Truth.” He continued, “I salute you on your transition back to your spiritual self.”

Taken aback, Jay continued. “Wait, where am I?” “You mean…you are…ahh, well, okay then…” Glancing around, and greatly flummoxed by the situation he quipped, “So Ralphie-boy, you been drinking some of the profits back there? Maybe smoking some of that funny stuff?”

Amused, Raphael replied, “Ahh, my Uncle, there are much better heads. So much more awaits you.” “Umm, yes, it is Truth.”

In disbelief Uncle Jay replied. “R-i-i-i-ght.” Then quickly changing the subject asked, “Yo, Ralphie, what’s the bar food around this joint?” I’m thinking, Pork Roll, Egg and Cheese, a couple slices of pizza?”
Raphael slowly shook his head as Jay persisted with, “No!? C’mon. Give me a break here!” “How about Peanuts? Corn Chex?”

Raphael replied, “Uncle, let me speak in words you shall surely understand.” “Don’t click your red high heel sneakers’ Hockey Puck.’ You ain’t in Jersey anymore.” “Umm, Yes, this is Truth.”

Jay, in a quick change of subject, prodded Raphael with, “Listen, speaking of words we can both grasp, what’s up with the, ‘This is Truth’ deal?” “In Jersey we use easily understandable, straight-talking words, like ‘yes’ and ‘no’?” “Can we work on that?”

Raphael replied, “In Jersey you also have spirits in human form like Chris Christie. He for whom, ‘yes’ means ‘no’ and ‘no’ means ‘yes.’” “As you might say, Uncle, ‘What is up with that?’”

Jay, fumbling with words, managed, “Well…actually…okay…umm…yeah; look Ralphie, it’s complicated.”

Knowingly, Raphael replied, “Complicated human truth.” “Yes, it is always so.”

Still waiting for his beer while gaping at his host’s ‘attire’ Jay teased, “You know Ralphie, as the Dude might say, ‘I like your style.’ You got this whole Archangel thing going on.”

Raphael replied, “Yes. As Lebowski might also say, ‘I like your ‘style’ too dude,’ what with that whole Don Rickles thing going on.”

Busted, the Uncle chortled, “Yeah, well…so, are any other comedians--besides you--around?” “How about Stan and Ollie? I’d sure like to meet those two.” “They were always good for a couple of yuks.”

Comforting, Raphael replied, “Be assured all are welcome who ease the burden of others with laughter and smiles. Indeed, an eternity of laughter will surround you. This is one way you will take your rest.” “Yes, I see it, it is Truth.”

Realizing he was way out of his league, and suspending his disbelief a bit, the Uncle asked “What about the guy I call Uncle Jerry, AKA, ‘His Holiness?’” “He makes people laugh, at least he makes me laugh…even if he is a Snowflake.”

“Yes, the Franciscan.” “‘Holiness?’ Hmm, the jury is still out on that. His witness goes round and round, much like a carousel horse on one of your boardwalks. Still, he carries the cross of peace and social justice. Yes, there is great hope for this one.”

Enthusiastically Jay responded “Cool!” and asked, “What about Joe, AKA ‘Ace Wasser-person?’”

Enjoying the repartee, Raphael responded, “You Jersey souls really are into nicknames!” “But yes, this one is like St. Francis, another of ‘God’s fools.’ He walks the talk, lives simply and for decades has carried the cross of many, trying to end nuclear war and working for the poor and oppressed.” Nodding he proclaimed, “Hmm, yes indeed, we will greet him.” “This Uncle, yes, is Truth…”

“Great! What about the other member of our old crew— the one with your namesake—a guy we call ‘Uncle Ralph?’”

Glinting Leprechaun-like, Raphael replied “Ahh, yes, the ‘Brother from Another Mother’…the one you also call ‘The Voice.’”

Chuckling in recognition Jay said, “Yep, that’s the one. Uncle Ralph is definitely the man.”

Raphael, speaking with a distant and serious look said, “This one continues to wander, lost in a world of poor choices. But know this, his heart is kindly, his words soft and his voice angelic. He hurts only himself and no other. Never forget, music is the voice of Spirit and Spirit lives within him, crying out in song, seeking to be recognized. But for now, and for too many earth years, it has not been fully heard. But, fear not. This is enough. A life in human purgatory will, for him, translate to a spiritual eternity of song.” “Yes, yes, Uncle. This is Truth.”

Expectantly Jay then asked, “What about my Kathy?”

Raphael replied, “Hmm, we save the best for last. I say, like the others, those who suffer for love and bear heavy burdens for another help create heaven on earth. Some bear a heavier cross than others; in this case, this one carried you. Her ticket is punched; the bar-tab has been paid.” “Yes, oh yes, this is great Truth.”
Looking kindly Raphael proclaimed, “Your time at this waystation is coming to an end. Know this my Uncle. Your human suffering has ended. Here, your yoke will be easy and your burden light.”
Continuing he declared, “New gifts are yours as are answers to things illusive and timeless. You, my Uncle, have joined our ‘Communion of Saints.’ Thus, in the case of friends and family, watch over and intercede for them with the gift of undying petition and prayer.” “Indeed, this is your endowment. This is Truth.”

Shocked and more than a bit intrigued, the Uncle considered his latest moniker. “Saint Jay you say?” “Hmm…”
Not sure he wanted to trust it, he started to insist, “Wait a second Ralphie, you really need to get a grip.” Reconsidering he said, “You know what? I like the sound of that.” “’Saint Jay’…I think I’m going to like this whole afterlife thing.”
Then laughing out loud he seized his joy and astonishment as he roared across time, space and mystery: “How ‘bout dem apples ‘Your Holiness!’”

THE END

Author’s note: Uncle Jay made his transition on 28 March 2021. He will be missed…until we all reconnect.

© 2021, Gerald R Gioglio

---