meloncholy and the infinate sadness

one of my best friends dad passed away last week. and it really bothered me. yesterday, during the funeral, i realized that we were about to bury one of our parents and i just don't feel old enough to bury our parents. in the past few years (january, ironically) my children have lost three of their great-grandparents. erica's children just lost their grampy. my heart aches.

and at the funeral, they asked people to come up and share their memories. i said nothing. what memories do i really have of mr. starkey? nothing in particular that stands out as a great memory. he was just always there. he always made sure to cheer for me at swim meets & keep track of my points, too, especially if my mom wasn't there. he drove me home from many-a-swim practice and made sure i was fed. he watched me grow up, and go through those funky teenage years with his own children. we used to jokingly debate whether or not it was ethically right to feed his bird, corey, (a bird that frightened me beyond words) chicken. "he's a bird; he doesn't know better!" he'd say. "you just can't feed birds bird" i'd yell back until it was time to go out. to the movies, or an urgent run to 7-11. and this debate would continue the next time that i saw him. but there never was any resolution. or maybe there was, as corey continued to eat chicken.

i find it amusing that at nearly thirty years old, i still refer to this man as "mr starkey" he was not bruce to me. he was mr starkey. he was my friends dad, and even though i am a grown woman, with children of my own. mr starkey was, and forever will be, a great presence- a man who deserves the respect of me still calling him mr starkey. the same as i did when i was thirteen or fourteen years old.

mr starkey, to me, was the sweet "hey, meg" and a great big bear hug. every time that he saw me. because mr starkey was a genuine loving & kind man.

you will be missed.