Mikey Moe
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Farewell To A Friend...
« Thread started on: Oct 25th, 2009, 8:52pm » |
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Today, Sunday, October 25th, 2009, I laid my friend to rest. Martin Preece aka Sir Martin of White Mud aka Sir Martini Hawk, who passed from us last Monday on October 19th after his short, but sturdy battle with cancer, was my friend. I am a better man today because of Martin. I will be a better man tomorrow because of Martin. Martin was like my big brother in many ways, as well as a close friend. I was the second person he called (after my loving cousin Greggy) to inform of his cancer. I was the second person (after my loving cousing Greggy) that his Dear Mum called to inform of his passing. In the last 6 weeks of his life, after finding out about his ailment, he tried to fit so much in knowing of his impending death, but was unable to accomplish everything he wanted to because the original prediction of "about nine months to live" accelerated to only 6 weeks. I spoke with him every day after his first radiation and chemo treatments to make sure he was feeling okay. He would call me all hours of the night and day just to talk to me, which I told him to do, because that's what friends are for. Sometimes, I think he just wanted to hear a familiar voice from his life while trapped in a hospital bed hooked to an IV. He and I talked to great lengths about so many things in his final days before the diseased took his body over causing so much pain and fever, he couldn't speak. I sensed his fear, but he never complained about what was happening to him, only complaining from time to time about the pain the cancer was inflicting on him, making him extremely uncomfortable so much so that he couldn't even type his computer keyboard to pound out emails or carry on his business with WebSEODesign.com, a search engine optimization company he formed a few short years ago to provide income for himself and Gwen aka Sheila his pet panther, his loving Mum of 86 years old.
This weekend, I spent most of my waking hours with Cousin Greggy aka Greg Gracer aka Doc Hormone visiting from Miami on behalf of Martin. Originally, Greg had booked this time so that he and I could wreak havoc on poor Sir Martin either at the hospital or at home, as only we can. Unfortunately for both of us, Martin never made it to the weekend, so Greg came to town still to help lay Martin to rest. Greg and I, at Gwen's request, placed Martin's ashes in their final resting place in a small plot at Trinity Episcopal Church in St. Clair Shores today just before noon.
I am not going to sit here and babble about the death of Sir Martin of White Mud, because I would rather celebrate his life instead. I looked up to him (he was taller than I am) for many things. I learned that time is something that no one should ever waste because no one can ever predict an accurate time frame output. Greg and I had a beautiful weekend together visiting mostly with each other and Gwen Preece and of course, with a few other White Mud members who showed up today at the funeral service. Tommy Cucurru, Tony D'Orio and Kris and Jim from the band were all on hand today. How about that? Martin got 6 guys from White Mud to attend Sunday services in a church! This whole weekend was filled with the presence of Martin around Greg and I so much so that it started getting a little freaky. Amidst all the mayhem that Greg and I had caused this weekend in true Hawk/Mud fashion, I can assure you that EVERYTHING was Martin Preece-related. I actually hurt today from all the laughing that I did this weekend with Greg. Sheila, Martin's pet panther, aka Gwen was also quite amused at our antics with her. We had her laughing and talking all afternoon that she spent with us on Saturday. I swear that most 86 year old women may have been totally embarassed by our antics, especially when we took her out to dinner, but not Sheila. She growled right back at us and chimed right in! You gotta love that...we did.
All in all, no matter how irreverant some of our nonsense may appear to be, it was never done out of any disrespect towards Martin at all. Martin bellowed at Greg and I when he discovered that he had cancer that if he ever detected any pity from either of us, he'd kick our asses and hang up or kick us out. Although Greg and I wept privately and with each other, we never let him down that way. We gave him our normal royal treatment every time we talked or visited, right to the very end, as per his wishes and he came back in true Sir Martin style as well, sometimes taking the unfamiliar LOW ROAD rather than his usual HIGH ROAD standards. We all had great fun together which I can not explain in words...I can't explain it in tears...I can't explain it in laughter...
...you just sort of had to be there!
I will always love Martin Preece as he was my mentor, my big brother, my close personal friend and my fellow Mudder and Hawker. Martin "Don't Call Me MARTY" Preece has finally taken his very last road trip. Farewell my friend, until we meet again...
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