A Station Eight Fan Web Site
I wrote this whole thing up yesterday, before I realized that the server (or whatever) was down... So I'll try to recreate it now. I hate recreating things that I write. You can take for granted it was much better written yesterday. *Anyway, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.*
On Sunday, I went to the unveiling of Gary Sperling's grave marker. It's nearly impossible for me to believe that he's been gone an entire year.
The day, the weather, was very reminiscent of the day of his funeral, i.e. hot, hot, hot. Gary's family seems to be doing well, to have found some equilibrium. They miss him, but it's also clear that he is an ongoing and wonderful presence in their lives.
I still catch myself, have to remind myself that he's gone.
Spent some time with some old Disney buddies. We talked about Gary. Talked about Disney (then & now). It was really kind of great. But many of them I hadn't seen since his funeral, and it's a bit appalling that we haven't gotten together for a year, and that the only thing that brings us in contact is another bittersweet occasion.
I ask myself what I've done with this year. What Gary might have done with another year. I don't really feel like I've achieved much, have much to show for being on this planet for twelve months longer than my friend. Except for this: I got to spend that time with my kids. Not that I'm that spectacular a father, but I think my mere presence (fairly active presence) in their lives has to be a good thing. I'm guessing if Gary ever envied me anything (cuz that wasn't his nature at all), he'd envy me that. It's damn hard not to conclude therefore that I am one lucky sonovabitch.
And that conclusion, I think, is worth the price of admission right there. Another thing to thank Gary for, I guess.