Remember Me

Thanks to Netflix, Uncle Drew, Larry and I enjoyed a matinee performance of “Coco” this past Sunday in the comfort of our family room, joined by the lovely Madelyn Simone and the almost-birthday girl, the delightful and determined Elizabeth Holiday. While I’d heard of the movie, I had no clue as to its storyline, and was charmed by this Pixar/Disney animated film. Based upon the idea that twelve-year-old Miguel could visit the Land of the Dead, one of its themes was the value of remembering.

The concept of remembering was explored throughout the story line, and cemented through the frequent use of its Oscar-winning song, “Remember Me,” written by Richard Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, the composers of the soundtrack for “Frozen” – no wonder Elizabeth likes it so much. While the filmmakers used both an up tempo, mariachi style and a heart-rending lullaby, the words remained the same, including this line: “Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar, know that I’m with you.”

Remember me. These words have stayed with me in the days since we watched Coco, both in the news of the day and in the musings of my own heart.

The first “remember me” is connected to the nagging fear that LeBron James may have played his last game in the wine and gold of the Cleveland Cavaliers. Since his last contract was only for one year, LeBron can choose to sign with another team this summer, and the sports reporters wasted no time asking him about his plans at the end of the Cavs’ loss to the Golden State Warriors. According to James, he wants to make the best choice for his family, perhaps even leading to the day when he and his son will play on the same NBA court.

When LeBron left Cleveland for Miami in 2010, many Clevelanders hated him for what they saw as a betrayal of their city, their team. But now? If he does decide to leave, we’ll remember LeBron for much more than The Decision.” When LeBron James finally hangs up his basketball shoes, we’ll remember him for the 2016 NBA championship, for carrying his team on his back in 2018, bloodshot eye and broken hand included, and his promise of a free college education for low income kids in Akron.

We are also remembering the familiar names of those who lost their lives to suicide this past week. Kate Spade was first, and that unwelcome news was quickly followed by the report of the death of Anthony Bourdain. We hadn’t met them, but we’ve carried Kate’s purses and invited Tony into our living room to share a long-distance meal. We mourn the unexpected losses, and curse the pain that drives a human to suicide.

Marcos Antonio Munoz was unknown to me. His suicide took place after his wife and child were torn away from him as they crossed the border, seeking asylum in the United States. Did he have a mental breakdown? Did he lose all hope? We may never know what caused this Honduran immigrant to take his own life in a Texas jail cell, but today, I answer his unspoken plea, “remember me,” by speaking his name.

A final call to remember is personal for me this Father’s Day. As we honor the fathers among us, we also remember those who are no longer with us. My father died more than ten years ago, and yet each time I hear “O When the Saints Go Marching In” or see a package of scrapple in the grocery store, I remember my dad, and, as Miguel sang, I know that he is with me.

In “Coco,” Héctor explained the rules of the Land of the Dead to Miguel, “Our memories, they have to be passed down by those who knew us in life – in the stories they tell about us. . .” The story of LeBron is told over and over. The stories of Kate and Tony are being repeated in the wake of their deaths. But the stories of the imaginary Héctor, the distraught Marcos, and our own fathers, both living and dead, are ours to tell, to pass down, to remember. Happy Father’s Day!