Carlo Reyes Memorial and Funeral Expense Fund

Hi all

My name is Andrea Reyes, and until recently I was the happily married wife of an amazing human being. As far as husbands go, Carlo was top tier. He was kind, patient, understanding. He was funny and never had a bad word to say about anyone.

November 1st 2021.

Carlo had been complaining of what felt like gas. His side hurt in the non-specific way that we all get from time to time. The kind of way that could have been gallstones, intestinal, etc. And like a good wife I told him the same thing I always told him when he had aches and pains, "Go get it checked out." And like always, he ignored it hoping it would go away.

That night, however, he sat up in bed and something felt off. He felt like he had ripped or torn something. So at 4 am, we went to the ER, stopping at a gas station that I refuse to visit ever since that day, guessing at what it could be. Probably gallstones. Or maybe kidney stones.

At the ER they prodded him and asked him questions and did a routine blood test. They sent him for scans and while waiting for the scans a nurse returned with the blood test.

"Do you know you're anemic," she asked. We looked at each other and shook our heads.

"Do you ever see blood in your stool?" Was the follow up question.

"I don't know, I don't look at it," was his reply. I thought this weird. I mean who doesn't look at their poop. Our humour at the following banter quickly faded. The nurse wanted to check for blood.

Yes. There was blood. Carlo was moved to a bigger hospital. The scans also showed nodules on his liver. I had gone home to take care of the pets. Carlo called me and told me he had cancer. My mind went blank.

"Ok," I responded to about ten different medical statements in a row. What does one say? "No, cancer won't work for me this year, maybe next year." Ok, ok ok ok okokokokok. I was information gathering. I would process after. I asked questions, I took notes on what I would have to look up.

He asked if I was ok. Carlo being funny with me. I was not ok. We hung up and I sobbed for an hour. I hardly ever cry. There was definitely ugly crying.

We then embarked on two years of surgeries, blood draws, poison injections, bad fashion chemo weekend bags, a troop of nurses trying to keep everyone's spirits high, but now I wonder how they are, when their patients of years fall off the roster. When they never hear from them again.

We tried stage 1 trials and more chemo, juggled dozens of medications like court jesters, bouncing them against symptoms and side effects, some hitting and some missing.

And Carlo kept his spirits up. Not always. I was there when he couldn't. He was there when I couldn't. Even after years of this torture, maybe we still believed in miracles. We prayed, we kept each other sane, but slowly, so slowly, he weakened, shrunk, grew breathless, until there were too many colourful balls. They were falling from the sky now, burying us in their weight. Heavier and heavier.

When Carlo passed, he did not feel pain. He was so medicated, he wouldn't have felt or known anything except the last whispering of love in his ear, and maybe the wetness on his face and hands. Maybe he felt a last soft touch, and a twinge of lost something, I don't know.

All I know is the empty room.

We had the hospital equipment removed the next day. I couldn't stand the sight of the ugly bed that had held him, the walking equipment he never used and the empty chairs.

I go into that room, his brother does, and mother, and sometimes we just stare at the empty spot.

My husband used to be there, and now he isn't.

Now I have to plan a sendoff worthy of him. Worthy of the man with so many well deserved joyous remembrances on his Facebook. Worthy of the man who was loved by more people than he could ever know.

So many people are trying to help us, and we are so, so grateful for each and every one of you. You spent time with my husband and are the reason he loves his work, you are the keepers of his youth, and the challengers that kept him striving to be the best at whatever he set his mind to.

I'm not saying this just because I am his wife.

Carlo deserves amazing, because he was amazing. He didn't deserve cancer, no one does. He didn't deserve to pass at 44.

But I know that Carlo would love for you all to see him off one (or two) last time(s). Because he loved you all so, so much. Whenever he spoke about any of you, it was always with a story and a good time.

So I will do my best to give him the send off he does deserve. The fanfare he should have that will let the heavens know, this man was humble, he was lovable. He was great.

If you wish to send flowers, you may send them to the funeral home, or contact myself through TCS or fb for our address.

Carlo's Viewing

Place: Davis-Struempf Funeral Home & Crematory

Time/Day: Sunday, 15th October 2023, 4pm- 8pm.

Info: Speakers welcome, we'd love a short story or memory to remember Carlo by. A speaker sign up sheet will be set up on the day. Attendance may not be suitable for children.

Address: 1975 East-West Connector, Austell, GA 30106

Carlo's Service

Place: St Thomas the Apostle Catholic Church.

Time/Day: Monday, 16th October 2023, 10:00am

Info: Please arrive promptly, as we have been allocated this time slot. Speakers have already been contacted. Service is set, with no impromptu speakers, readings etc. All welcome.

Address: 4300 King Springs Rd SE, Smyrna, GA 30082

Carlo will also be having a private family burial in California near his father's grave on Saturday, 21st October 2023, at 10am. Contact Andrea or Rosa for the address.

We thank you for any contribution you choose to give, big or small, but mostly we'd love to see your faces when we bid Carlo farewell. I know he'd love to see you all together one last time.

Be well

-Andrea