Saying Goodbye, Oops, I Mean So Long

Yesterday we said goodbye to a very good family friend. Don Crooks, the anchor of the large Crooks family, has passed away.

There have been many insightful and eloquent tributes paid to him by friends and family over the last few days. I can't even begin to recount them here. Suffice it to say that the man gave, to everyone he encountered, with all his heart, all that he had to give.

My grandfather (OK, my Poppop), the apple of my young eye, was actually quite ill most of my young life. He used to miss me something fierce when I'd go home after spending the weekend with him and my Nana. He would tell me, "It's always 'so long', never 'goodbye'."

For most of my life I've had little issue saying goodbye. I'm seldom scared I'll never see someone again. I try to make sure all my loved ones know they are loved. Even if it is sometimes awkward telling a friend, "I love you." I do it. Even as I internally roll my eyes at my own mushiness.

I must confess that I told Don that I loved him on a fairly regular basis for at least the last two years. And it wasn't just by baking him his beloved rhubarb (only, please, thank you very much) pie. There was a distinctly odd satisfaction I got out of it, because he didn't say it back.

He didn't need to. He was all show, little tell. Yeah, it's a qualitative difference.

So long, dear man. Thank you for all the laughs, your kindness, generosity of spirit, and for leaving me inspired.