This morning I saw Kurt’s post that he had lost his dad. Immediately responses of condolences filled Kurt’s feed, from his many friends and colleagues especially among theater circles. Wishing comfort on Kurt, and on his beautiful, shining family.
People whose shows he’d literally saved, performances yanked from the brink of total disaster, others he’d designed special effects and electronic props for. And those who know him as a stalwart cast-member, a wide-ranging actor as well as a talented, trained and disciplined musician and singer. And others he’d hired and whose talents he’d put to their best use as a producer, executive producer, fund-raiser, and I suspect, Father confessor. People who wish they could take away or somehow soften a hurt he must endure, among the worst feelings in life.
Having also lost within a year and a half, not only my own dad and my younger brother after a horrific disease, but also one of my two best friends of over 4 decades, I empathize. Those wounds are felt once more. I am grateful for those who comforted me and think of them, now, as well.
My dad, my aunt and more recently my mom have all said, “Getting old ain’t for sissies!” Referencing the physical pains and logistical challenges, the declining mobility and self-reliance – all of that, to be sure. But as we get on in years, the irregular waves of sadness, that start as tidal waves and gradually get a little smaller, leave wakes that overlap across our emotions, as we lose person after person in our lives. My dad must have had that ever-present and ever-threatening toll in mind, as well.
Our hearts go out to Kurt and his family.