it was really hard for me to muster a lot of emotion about all the website stuff after hearing about my ex-coworker’s death. there was just too much sadness in my heart.
his name was Tony Bennett. no, really. of course, not that Tony Bennett, but he sure did handle the jokes about sharing his name with that italian crooner well. he was the most distinguished, learned man i’d ever met at the tender age of twenty. he was born in Bristol, England, tall, father of two, with a full head of white hair and accompanying goatee, meticulously landscaped.
he seemed to me to know something about everything. his father had sold antiques to the Queen. he went to school with Acker Bilk. he spent time serving in Saudi Arabia. he taught me everything i know about how anything automotive works (and how to change a flat tire all by myself — something he made a point of doing before i took off on my very first road trip in my very first car). he absolutely glowed with love and pride whenever he talked about his wife or sons. i loved to hear his stories of family life: what the dog got up to while they were out at a craft fair, what new girlfriend his son had, what new creation his very talented wife had made, what new home renovation he’d completed, a synopsis of what he learned in his boating course that week. he taught me how golf cars work and, through observation, how customer service worked. we had a mighty collection of kinder toys at work. we’d bring each other our favourites or the one we needed to complete a series. for such a gentleman, he wasn’t afraid to be silly. i loved that about him.
i think he was a surrogate father to me at a time when i felt very forgotten by my own dad. no one should be surprised that less than four hours after i heard of his passing, i was on a boat back to that little city to pay my respects at his memorial.
i don’t know how i kept it together as much as i did. i’m not good at condolences. as soon as i saw his wife i started to well up. it was less than twenty-four hours since i’d found out this wonderful, wonderful man had died, so it was all very close to the surface for me. i wish i could have expressed to his wife and sons just how much i cared for him, but it was all i could muster to give her a hug and tell her how sorry i was before i felt myself starting to cry again. thank goodness my mother was there to have a conversation with her while i composed myself.
i feel so much remorse for not keeping in touch with him. i was JUST thinking about him this past week. i can’t remember if it was in a dream or just a random memory, but he was very much present in my thoughts. did i know? during one of my recent trips to visit mom we drove through his neighbourhood, past his house. was he inside, medicated with morphine to take away his pain?
i may not have worked with him for the last seven years but i have never forgotten, nor will i ever forget, him.
i’m so glad my mom told me about the memorial. i’m so glad my dad was there to take me to the ferry. i’m so glad i got to know Tony for as long, and as well, as i did. he was a truly wonderful man. the world was lucky to have had him.