Falling Petals

I got the news on Saturday morning that Jack Dodd had passed away. He had been fading away for a while now, in and out of rehab hospital centers and at home being cared for by hospice and his family for months. I heard there were flickers of "Jack" that would appear from time to time, but really, the true Jack has not been around for way too long.

If life was a beverage, Jack Dodd would have been Sprite, all light and full of joyous bubbles. He was supposed to be life's eternal Peter Pan, always hearing big band music somewhere in his head. He was a box of crayons on a rainy day, always good for color and splashes of laughter no matter what the occasion. And he certainly didn't care that much about formality ... in a tux, a pair of shorts and Hawaiian shirt or even wheeled in a chair, he was who he was and that was that.

I used to go over and visit his daughters, Juli and Cathie, for years and Jack would ask me to reprise Gilda Radner's "Roseann Roseannadanna" and he would laugh so hard he snorted as if it was the first time he ever heard it. Lord, I wish I could garner that kind of an audience today.

These last years watching his pilot light go out ever so slowly, it was like collecting the fallen petals from the bouquet that just isn't ready to take off the center of the table just yet. Well, the centerpiece is missing and I just can't find the right "something" to put in its place that would be as delightful as it was having Jack in the middle of our lives.

We'll miss ya, Jack.