Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Sarge

It has been a year since you died.

I miss you, man.

Time flies even when you are in pain. This year went by so fast even though so many carried sadness around in their hearts, missing Sarge.

You would expect sadness to slow things down, that the loss and the pain would stretch out time but it just doesn't work that way.

Life is relentless, time is relentless.

Memory also, can be relentless.

I cannot tell you how many times I thought about Sarge over the past year. At home alone, in the car, at work, sometimes in tears (often in tears), sometimes with smiles.

The expression "I think about you every day" is overblown, it is an impossible cliche, but I can say truthfully that Sarge was in my heart and in my head for a vast majority of the past year.

That is because he was a big part of my life.


I regret deeply than I can no longer spend time with him. He was a real man and an inspiration to me.

I also have a treasure trove of memories because I was lucky enough to spend a lot of time with him.

So many race weekends, time spent in his apartments, his home, the Grille, and more.

We shared so much insanity, so many laughs. He was a natural, he made me feel comfortable and we just went for it when it was party time.

A memory just popped into my head of one of the fund raisers thrown for him when he was fighting cancer. He was in a wheel chair, we were sitting side by side at a table surrounded by people, having our own conversation.

Even then he was able to laugh and to make me laugh. He was stronger than I will ever be.

We also shared many intimate conversations, one on one and heart to heart, the memories of which I truly treasure.

He was not just a crazy man, which is an easy stereotype. He was gentle and loving and considerate and thoughtful.

I miss Sarge deeply; it breaks my heart that he is not around.

As sad as I am, Carol's pain is ten fold.

Because Sarge was a great brother to her. He loved her and she loved him back. He took time to be with her and he protected her.

Carol always tells me that Sarge taught her how to throw like a guy, not like a girl. I love that story.

She has told me many stories of things they did together, evidence of the deep bond they shared.

There is a picture floating around of Carol and Sarge sitting on a couch together at Bill and Gail's home when we went up to watch the Daytona 500 a few short years ago.

They are side by side, so easy in conversation, so comfortable in each other's company.

It is a magnificent picture that captures the love and respect they had for each other.

It has been a year. There will be many more years, but my heart tells me the emotions will not change.

That is a testament to the man that Sarge was. He was larger than life and he is larger than death.

I am grateful and proud to have called him brother-in-law.




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