At 4:56 this afternoon, my friend Harry passed away. People deal with sickness in a lot of different ways, for Harry Humphry it was humor. Harry suffered a stroke at age ninety-eight. He was a natural born storyteller and a gifted actor and even after six battles with four different kinds of cancer, the charisma rolled off of that man. Every time he would pass one of the old ladies in the senior center, he would clasp his hands together and perform an elaborate bow. Sometimes hed lose his balance and fall down but Harry would shake off the bruises and do it again the next day. The most frustrating thing for Harry about his condition was that the stroke had taken away most of his ability to speak. He loved to tell stories but you had to listen really carefully to catch most of them. Conveniently if you missed part the first time, hed probably loop around and tell it again in a few minutes. When Harry Humphry was born, Archduke Franz Ferdinand had just been assassinated in Sarejevo, and Kaiser Wilhelm the second was contemplating an invasion of Belgium. Harry was too young to remember world war one, but he remembered the second one very well. Most of his stories were about happier times though -- seeing dolphins off the coast of Florida while with the navy, learning ballet in college because his football coach told him that it would improve his balance, and one story that I never truly did understand about a foreman with the electric company, a truck full of transformers, and the bosss wife. When the stories failed, Harry would just waggle his fingers and say Bubbadubabbudda Buh. He could tell how receptive his audience was. If they said it back to him, hed get a big grin and say it again. Sometimes hed say it to people in the hallways. Some of them probably thought he was crazy, but it was just Harrys way of letting them know he was still in there. Every woman in that senior home wanted to flirt with Harry Humphry and one of his neighbors would even kiss him on the lips. Every time, Harry would vibrate and say “Yippee!” Of course Harrys only true love though was his wife Mary. And though she passed away ten years ago, every night after he went to bed he would have a conversation with her photo. Two weeks ago, Harry stopped being able to swallow liquids without choking. For a few days he stumbled by with eating a few spoons of applesauce but food was painful and he didnt want an IV. His health started to fade quickly but the humor was still there. I brought Kelsey in with me to say hello and he grabbed her hand, pulled it to his mouth and gave it a kiss. Until the last couple days, he still cracked jokes, still said “I love you,” and still cheerily raged about what hed do to the bed bugs every time he went to sleep. Today he died while listening to a medley of Laurence Welk shows on Youtube. The song that was playing was “Its a Jolly Holiday With Mary” from Mary Poppins. I loved that old man. He taught me a lot of lessons about life. Id like to say something more eloquent about him but I cant do it tonight. Tonight is for crying and remembering a very full life. Hugs to all. Youre all loved.
Posted on: Mon, 09 Jun 2014 01:03:03 +0000
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