Sunday, June 17, 2012
Garry grew up by the sound where bunkers on the beach he found.. He then went to class smelling like bass bragging to all his friends around
he moved with his family to a new town trading his fishing pole for a pitchers mound, He then knuckled past every batter, as good as he was, it did not seem to matter. A job with a Paycheck he found
He loved to tell long tales about dodges with death and fishing for whales.
Laughing and talking with a glean in his eye, he would spin a yarn without any lies.
Garry never quits and rarely fails.
I watched him work on his bike of blue,
all the while neither one knew
He worked, we laughed, and drank a few beers,
Lots of laughs with very few tears
What a great deal, at the ultimate price to you
I am sorry to all of you for what has been done
We thought it was good we were having some fun.
Gone in an instant all his hopes and dreams, the fickle headless of fate it seems
One last ride into the setting son.
We will all miss him, I know it is time. But for Kathleen I feel the most sorrow. To all his business you attended,nursed and cared as his leg mended. He would tell me of his love for you but sometime would never say it to you
