A Mann Amongst Men

My dad, Norman Mann, passed away early Monday morning after an all-too-short and futile fight against lung cancer, an unsparing, undiscriminating, relentless and utterly merciless disease; truly a terrorist right here in our midst. My dad had been as healthy and robust as a 79 year old man could be, yet he was no match for this insipid sickness. Still on the golf course as recently as this past summer, he was reduced to utter helplessness and confusion in a matter of months. Seeing him relegated to that state over the last few weeks has been the most difficult experience of my life. Fortunately, we were able to console ourselves somewhat with our success in bringing him home from the hospital on Christmas Eve. There, he was far more comfortable and died in relative peace (content, we hope, in the knowledge that the fortunes of his beloved Jets have been miraculously and fortuitously revived, and mercifully spared from enduring the disappointment which is sure to come on Sunday).

The expected relief from the knowledge that he is tormented no more has yet to supplant the sadness of his passing. We grew apart during my stupid teenage years (which ran well into my 20's, a common affliction as I've learned of late). But though we grew closer over the ensuing years, I feel like we were still getting to know each other, and that I could only have grown wiser and kinder from having done so.

My dad leaves Honey, my mom and his wife of 57 years, his adoring family (including nine grandchildren), and a huge throng of friends. He was loved for his kindness, extraordinary generosity, perpetual good spirits, and his keen sense of humor. We already miss him greatly.

Thanks as always for dropping by the blog, and here's wishing all of you a happy, prosperous, and, above all, healthy New Year. Speak to you again soon.