Erma Bombeck famously wrote If Life Is a Bowl of Cherries, What Am I Doing in the Pits?
Today in my hometown, a man is being buried when he should be celebrating his 37th birthday with his two young daughters.
We were never exceptionally close, but my lasting memory of him will always be that during high school, he called me by my brother’s name with a “Little” in front of it. You see, my brother is six years older than me, so he wasn’t there in person to watch over me during those ever-so-important years; by his reminding me of my brother every time we passed in the hall, though, I always got the feeling he was an appointed, surrogate big brother. He was a sweetheart.
I haven’t seen him in probably 15 years or so, but my heart breaks for his family. His father was a favorite teacher of mine, I cheered and graduated with his sister, and his brother also graduated with us. And his daughters, oh those little girls, one of whom goes to school with my nephew . . . just heartbreaking.
He was the kind of person who had a smile for everyone — and I mean everyone no matter what your “status” was in our small Friday Night Lights-type town. Yeah, he was a jock, but you’d never know it, and that’s a huge compliment. Just a helluva guy, plain and simple.
So today, for one community in a little corner of Pennsylvania and all its branches throughout the world, life is more pits than cherries, but here’s an amazing performance of a silly little song as we all look ahead to the future:
Rest in peace, Trock.
May your smile brighten wherever it is you are, and may your family and friends find comfort in their memories.