So many to thank...

There’s nothing like a family funeral to bring out the support of people who are close to you. Momma K touched the lives of so many that we found ourselves a bit overwhelmed at times.

Dozens and dozens of you made mention of how she influenced you, urged you to remember the arts, and those of us who struggle to live within its demands. I was reminded, so often that it was startling, of just how many of you came and lived, at least for a time, in Momma K’s basement. She gave a lot of kids who were at odds with their home situation a place to land, reflect, and come to terms with life.

Personally, I really had no idea of how you’ve all kept an eye on our family. Remembrances of times and events that I had long forgotten kept coming up as I spoke with old friends. They were very different times, of course, and our little town was much smaller. But they were times that so many of you have carried with you and brought back to share when we needed to hear about them, desperately.

My mother-n-law, and all the family around her, made sure I made it to the airport and returned safely to my wife, not even allowing us to worry over it. My old buddy Bob Stafford got me on the plane and sent me back, offering it up before I could think to ask him. My wife’s family in Michigan, who’ve never even met the rest of my family, poured out their support, love and care. Thank you all so much.

So many who know how Heather (The Fabulous Feathermaye) cares for me, how we live and love, came through before we could gather our thoughts or worry over loose ends. When she heard that Heather had to stay behind, and knew how deeply affected she was, our good friend Lisa Jones and her husband Bobby made sure she was fed and supported. They also know that I do all the cooking.

Momma K had a gravity all her own. No matter how far I wandered in my life-long searching, she kept a beacon for me to hone-in on; the emotional candle in the window of our hearts.

I apologize right now, again, for my poor ability to see and recognize so many of you. Your faces, and voices, are still in my heart and head as I last saw you; we’ve all changed quite a bit—on the outside. It was so good to see, feel and just know how solidly you remain the people I’ve (we’ve) always known.

I’ve come to know and love a lot of other fine people, many who are now my family, since I left my hometown twenty years ago. Even though none of them ever had the pleasure of meeting our Momma K, they’ve come to know her through the precious portions that I carry through life and out into the big wide world. In a sense, if you know me, you also know my mother, my father, my family.

There is no art, without pain, nor can we come to really appreciate the beauty in life and the world around us, without knowing, and seeing the contrast that comes with simply being human on the face of the earth.