Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Andy in the Aether
Andy was an average man by all appearances. He was tall, with wispy blond hair, rosy red cheeks and peircing blue eyes. His hands were huge, but not as big as his laughter was. You could hear Andy laughing for at least a kilometer away, loud belly-laughs at whatever had piqued his humor. He was not a particularly educated person, but could fix or build anything. His technological expertise was boundless, and people would come for miles asking for his advice, his help or maybe for some extra materials for a project. He always had extra parts for the asking- always knew exactly where they were in the midst of his own projects that littered their farm.
He was also a father to four amazing children, all of whom reflect their father's characteristics of kindness, compassion, strong spirit, and argumentative nature, amongst others. However, Andy was also the father of many other children on top of their own large family, fostering many children over the years that I knew them. No child left that house unaffected by Andy's unconditional love and listening ear, and guffawing laughter from a particularly bad joke. He could be fierce when you angered him, but chances were, he wouldn't get mad at you unless you were endangering yourself or another person. Andy presented the ability to just be a kid to a child who had not had the opportunity in their former situation, and presented a vast manual of knowlege for making even the most serious child open up, laugh, and learn to live.
I learned from Andy not to judge anyone by a stereotype. I learned more about the simple pleasures in life, and I learned what "need" really meant. He taught me about cars, he taught me not to be afraid of turkeys, he taught me how to ride bareback, he taught me to listen more carefully to the intent behind a word, and to see things from new perspectives. And I learned how to tease someone incessantly, by his own example made of me time and time again.
I don't know how his family and anyone else who knew him is going to do without him around. He was, for lack of a better way of putting it, what everyone always came back to the farm for. Surely not the only reason, but it was always an unspoken desire to be able to simply bask in Andy's glowing character, get a hug, or a pat on the head. He held it all together, a constant for so many people who had never known it, or had a hard time getting hold of it as they were shunted from one home to another. I don't think anyone that has ever met him will ever forget who he was.
He used to jokingly say that he didn't want a funeral, just a celebration of life, full of color ("no black") and laughter. I don't know if such a thing is possible, but I'll be there with bells on for you dude.
It almost goes without saying that I realize what an idiot I've been lately. I wish perspective for a silly girl didn't come with such a painful price though.
¶ 3:01 PM
He was also a father to four amazing children, all of whom reflect their father's characteristics of kindness, compassion, strong spirit, and argumentative nature, amongst others. However, Andy was also the father of many other children on top of their own large family, fostering many children over the years that I knew them. No child left that house unaffected by Andy's unconditional love and listening ear, and guffawing laughter from a particularly bad joke. He could be fierce when you angered him, but chances were, he wouldn't get mad at you unless you were endangering yourself or another person. Andy presented the ability to just be a kid to a child who had not had the opportunity in their former situation, and presented a vast manual of knowlege for making even the most serious child open up, laugh, and learn to live.
I learned from Andy not to judge anyone by a stereotype. I learned more about the simple pleasures in life, and I learned what "need" really meant. He taught me about cars, he taught me not to be afraid of turkeys, he taught me how to ride bareback, he taught me to listen more carefully to the intent behind a word, and to see things from new perspectives. And I learned how to tease someone incessantly, by his own example made of me time and time again.
I don't know how his family and anyone else who knew him is going to do without him around. He was, for lack of a better way of putting it, what everyone always came back to the farm for. Surely not the only reason, but it was always an unspoken desire to be able to simply bask in Andy's glowing character, get a hug, or a pat on the head. He held it all together, a constant for so many people who had never known it, or had a hard time getting hold of it as they were shunted from one home to another. I don't think anyone that has ever met him will ever forget who he was.
He used to jokingly say that he didn't want a funeral, just a celebration of life, full of color ("no black") and laughter. I don't know if such a thing is possible, but I'll be there with bells on for you dude.
It almost goes without saying that I realize what an idiot I've been lately. I wish perspective for a silly girl didn't come with such a painful price though.
¶ 3:01 PM
