R.I.P. Harry
by Scott Hardie on August 18, 2013
It's been a melancholy weekend since learning of the passing of a family friend. Fifty years ago, Harry and my mother went on a date. They didn't quite click, but she liked him enough to introduce him to her best friend, and sparks flew between them that soon led to marriage and a lifetime of gratitude to my mother for introducing them. They've been the closest friends I've known my mother to have, and big influences on our lives, instrumental in choices like moving to Sarasota. When my father died while I was still a teen, Harry privately offered to be a surrogate any time I needed a man to talk to, and that spoke to the generation that he came from, where men were manly and role models were critical. Harry was an old-fashioned gentleman; he automatically made chivalrous gestures like holding the chair for ladies to sit down, and he was the kind of man where you could sense that his preferences for drink and smoke had been with him for decades. A stroke late in life forced him to speak less, but his good humor and decency remained strong. I miss him and I mourn him.
Four Replies to R.I.P. Harry
Steve West | August 19, 2013
There are a few men in my life representative of whom you mourn. I know I'll mourn their passing equally hard and will redouble my efforts to spend time with these good men while I still can. Thanks, Harry. Thanks, Scott.
Scott Hardie | August 20, 2013
Since writing this, I learned that two Funeratic members (inactive but well remembered) lost their fathers in the last few days. I am sad for them, and my thoughts turn to making the most of the time we have in life.
Lori Lancaster | August 23, 2013
[hidden by author request]
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
Emails!
Does the Internet baffle you? Try Gabe & Max's Internet Thing. Thanks, Marlon. Go »Without Teeth
Turns out I'm not the only one in this household in need of medical attention. I took my cat to the vet for an eye infection, wound up getting her a $500 physical since she's overdue, and the doctor wants to pull her teeth in a few weeks for another $400. He says her teeth and gums are impossibly infected and there's nothing else that can be done now. Go »What We Kept
One winter in the mid-1970s, my grandfather Donald was hospitalized with a serious infection in his foot. Being diabetic, he went out of his way for years to avoid any infections or other hazards, but his luck had run out. On Christmas Day, he was informed by the doctors that they would have to amputate his foot the next morning. Go »Unexpected Easter
This has been an unusual few days. Kelly's father had a stroke on Thursday, so we left town suddenly to see him, ultimately choosing to drive since we can't afford plane tickets on no notice. He's going to be fine; his vision was affected at first but he seems recovered now, pending another examination. Go »Operation Git-R-Done
This past weekend, I explored my inner redneck in a NASCAR-centered visit to Charlotte with Steve Dunn and my family. Here are the highlights, good and bad. Thursday: Very little sleep before the trip: The Jeep parked outside my window sounded off its car alarm every five minutes (I timed it) from 10pm to 10am. Go »
Erik Bates | August 19, 2013
[hidden by author request]