Ana Claudia
Last weekend, as I stood in front of those attending the celebration of life services for my brother Tom, I couldn’t help but notice the tears on the face of a dark-haired women among those attending. I had not yet met this beautiful women, so I had no idea who she was.
Knowing that some of Tom’s former students would be in attendance, I was not surprised when she came up to me after the service, with tears still in her eyes, and introduced herself — Ana Claudia, one of Tom’s former students. We embraced with the affection of dear friends seeing one another after years of being apart. For Ana, I was channeling Couch Turner, something that is second-nature for me since my brother and I are kindred spirits. We talked, drifting from the present to the past and back, her tears of joy still on her face.
As we talked and hugged, Ana shared something she had posted on Facebook after the death of Coach Turner:
I don’t often share my feelings on here,
but today I have a good reason to do so.
I’ve often thought about how blessed I am
for having had tough but kind coaches
and mentors throughout my life.
I am grateful beyond words
that good-hearted people took time
to help keep a poor immigrant kid from the hood
on a path towards a positive life
that included the desire to give back or pay it forward.
I know most of you didn’t know him but in honor of him,
I want to say that among all of those good people
none made more of a difference
in my life than this good man — Coach Turner.
He passed away yesterday and now,
here I sit openly weeping still, smiling,
and remembering him not only as a coach,
but also as a mentor, a defender, a family friend, and even a father.
I’ll never forget you Coach Turner. Thank you from my heart.
— Ana Claudia
I have no doubt that her words are shared by so many of his former students. He was a special man who liked using the power of his vocabulary to impress those around him, but for Tom his ability to share his feeling was more powerful the words. Like all of us, he had his demons, but above all, “Bobby”, my little brother, knew the value of caring and sharing.
In the form of a elegy, I share the last two stanzas from Federico Garcia Lorca’s, “A Dream of Life”:
No one knows you. No one. But I sing you —
sing your profile and your grace, for later on.
The signal ripeness of your mastery.
The way you sought death out, savored its taste.
The sadness just beneath your gay valor.
Not soon, if ever, will Andalusia see
so towering a man, so venturesome.
I sing his elegance with words that moan
and remember a sad breeze in the olive groves.
— kenne
Coach Turner
Turner with some of his track students
What a wise man you have grown to be, old friend. I know how much you must miss Bobby. We’ve come a long way since growing up,in Lisle.
Yes we have, dear friend. I have much more to share, but will try spacing it — I hope to be around for awhile.
Heartwarming, dear Kenne. <3
My feeling for him, and in general, are always from the heart.
Wonderful. Obviously, he was very special.
Yes he was, and always will be.
My condolences on the loss of your brother Kenne. I know how hard that loss can be personally. Hold the wonderful memories of him close to your heart.
Thank you for the kind words.
My condolences for you, May you find a peace-filled moment to hold all the memories….
Take Care…You Matter…
)0(
maryrose
This past weekend was one of those moments.