And apparently it’s true. First Sarah’s Rick, then my Amy, and now my friend and former colleague Dennis Murphy is finally succumbing to colon cancer. This man is 57 years old, has a wife, Terry who is a friend and fellow knitter, and three lovely grown kids. He is a Circuit Court Judge, one of the best in the business, never one to take himself or his position too seriously; a fair and honest man. He loved riding his motorcycle, because in his helmet he could be incognito in our little town of Gaylord.
Again, he must have known his time here would be short. He was a daredevil on that bike. He loved speed, standing up on his bike pegs while flying down the road. And he loved our Meg. He loved to call her ‘punkin.’ “How’s punkin’?” he would ask. This was when she was a teenager and I would regale him with frustrated tales of her latest antics. He thought it was great, her spunkiness, her ‘moxy,’ just her.
He and Terry are perfect together. I remember once they came to our Irish party, and when I met them at the door, they had on the goofiest hand-made ‘hats.’ I said to her later, “I can’t believe you got him to wear that thing.” Her quiet response, with a sideways grin, was, “He’ll do anything I tell him to.” I laughed then and it makes me laugh now.
So another good and joyful person joins the heavens leaving us here on earth wondering, again: Why?