So, this evening, I truly needed to clean up the kitchen (which involves more than filling the dishwasher). But I took a break & checked Facebook & found a message that reduced me to inaction, despair & tears.
A man I knew & with whom I spent countless hours of laughter & discourse & ease, died yesterday.
A man I once knew very well, who was kind & generous & supportive of me & my little family, whose family spent holidays & birthday parties with my family & evenings playing Trivial Pursuit.
A man who teased me relentlessly about our political differences (whom I still believe put a Bush sticker on my car back in the 80’s).
Who let his wife use his frequent flyer miles & Marriot points to take me along on a girls’ trip to New York during a particularly rough time in my life.
A man who did not blink when his wife & I sat in the driveway or in the hot tub, all night, drinking champagne & talking.
He loved his family. He spoke with pride about his daughter. He loved & admired his wife.
Barry Morrison was a good man, a kind & loving man. He was not perfect. But as I always remind people, there are no saints on earth.
He was 56 & he died too damned soon.
Needless to say, the kitchen is still a mess.
Rest in peace, Barry.
Jaki, my dear sweet friend--I am so sorry for your loss!
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