Best man
Timothy L. Maret
I met Tim in the summer of 1979 when we arrived at soccer camp at college. He thought I was a little girly man. How do I know this? Because he told me. Not in those words exactly but I got the point. But soon we would be roommates. Tim took on the name "Murry" or "Mur" to his friends around our sophmore year. It was a combination of us goofing on his name, Maret (sounds like chevrolet) and him waking in the morning and just grunting out "murrrr". And he's a hairy guy; manly hairy (furry . . .murry). It's one of those things that stuck and his wife and parents call him that on occasion.
Mur and I have always been close. We agree about 95 percent of the time on various issues; politics, education, work, God. Just about every thing. The other 5 percent, I just smack him around about.
We were best men at each others weddings. We have children (him a daughter and me a son) the same age. We are good friends. Mur is one of those friends who will tell you when you are a fool. You always know right where you are with him. He is my friend. He is who I go to to hear the truth and seek advice. Not too many people like that in my life.
Well, Mur is moving south. He and Denice have purchased a house in North Carolina and they will be gone from this wasteland next month. Part of me is sad. Another part of me is very happy for them. I know that the miles will never keep our friendship apart and that we will just pick up where we left off at our last encounter. Plus I now have a place to stay for free overnight when we go to Florida.
I love you, Mur! I thank God for you being my "best man" and great friend. God bless you and yours.
For now . . .
I met Tim in the summer of 1979 when we arrived at soccer camp at college. He thought I was a little girly man. How do I know this? Because he told me. Not in those words exactly but I got the point. But soon we would be roommates. Tim took on the name "Murry" or "Mur" to his friends around our sophmore year. It was a combination of us goofing on his name, Maret (sounds like chevrolet) and him waking in the morning and just grunting out "murrrr". And he's a hairy guy; manly hairy (furry . . .murry). It's one of those things that stuck and his wife and parents call him that on occasion.
Mur and I have always been close. We agree about 95 percent of the time on various issues; politics, education, work, God. Just about every thing. The other 5 percent, I just smack him around about.
We were best men at each others weddings. We have children (him a daughter and me a son) the same age. We are good friends. Mur is one of those friends who will tell you when you are a fool. You always know right where you are with him. He is my friend. He is who I go to to hear the truth and seek advice. Not too many people like that in my life.
Well, Mur is moving south. He and Denice have purchased a house in North Carolina and they will be gone from this wasteland next month. Part of me is sad. Another part of me is very happy for them. I know that the miles will never keep our friendship apart and that we will just pick up where we left off at our last encounter. Plus I now have a place to stay for free overnight when we go to Florida.
I love you, Mur! I thank God for you being my "best man" and great friend. God bless you and yours.
For now . . .
posted by Tgears at 7:28 PM
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