I remember the first time I saw Guy Losito do his Stevie Wonder impression. Donning sunglasses and bobbing his head from side to side, it was quite the transition—from the undeniably charismatic coach, screaming on the sidelines at aspiring miniature ball players, urging them to fly around the bases at Ozone Howard, to celebrity impersonations at a community charity event at Russo’s on the Bay. I thought to myself, ‘This white man can dance.’ As he belted out “For Once in My Life,” he made his way around the dance floor–in one hand was the mic, the other he used to lead even the shyest of steppers to the center of the floor. That was a long time and lots of years ago.
I also remember Guy showing up when I lost a loved one to cancer. For some reason I can still see the look in those piercing eyes when he said, “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?” And I remember replying, “No there’s nothing anyone can do. Not now.” It didn’t matter what he said at that moment. It only mattered that he was there.
So many times when facing cancer we wish we could’ve done something, anything. We offer our good wishes, send food to the house, pick the kids up from school, offer to grab some things at the store. But so many times, we don’t show up at all. And that’s because we are all so afraid of this disease. We don’t know what to say or do. We don’t know how to act. We hesitate to stop by for a visit or pick up a phone because it’s just too hard to face the person we know and love –they’re engaged in battle with a formidable and ruthless adversary– we’re all petrified they are going to lose.
But the truth is, beyond medical treatments and therapies, the greatest enemy of cancer is the hope it attempts to wrestle away from all of us.
Guy’s son Ryan recently visited me at my home to tell me about his dad’s diagnosis of brain cancer, but more importantly he told me that Guy was up for the fight. He wants to see his grandchildren grow. Ryan also told me how much it means when someone stops by or calls with some words of encouragement and support, letting his father know, he’s not alone.
Helping Guy face this battle is much more than signing on to your computer and making a pledge to GoFundMe. It’s about reaching out and saying “We’re with you” and “We know you can do it.”
So if you really want to help, go into your hearts as well as your wallets. Don’t hide because you’re intimidated by the fear of cancer, because from far too much personal experience, I can tell you that the only way to have any chance of winning this war is to be armed with the strength that comes only from love and support.
On June 3, the Ozone Howard Little League is hosting a walk to help Guy and his family with overwhelming medical expenses. Show up. Bring your family. Bring your friends and bring your wallets.
And in the few weeks before that day rolls around, be sure that showing up in the meantime can make a world of a difference. Drop by, pick up the phone. Tell a story, share a laugh. Just listen.
This is a man who has brought so much to our community, especially to our kids. For more than 30 years. This is our opportunity to give it back when it is so very much needed.
We’re with you, Guy. And we know if there is any guy who can do this, his name is Losito.
Please see details for the walk
on page 12.
