Please indulge me...
Primarily, I like to write for me. Sometimes for others. This is one of the times it's primarily for me. But, after reading this, hopefully the reader walks away with some connection to what was written. And, if not, that's OK, too. But, as I stated, this is just me needing to express some shit, ya know?
On January 18th the
world lost a great soul.
I recently lost my cousin Daryl Foster to Cancer. It happened remarkably fast and almost without warning. No warning for him. No warning for me. No warning for his family or for his friends. I guess we all know that death is coming, and we are reminded by it when we watch TV or hear stories from our friends. But when it hits home - damn, it hurts.
I had trouble describing Daryl to my friends who didn't know him. I didn't want to use words that have been used to describe so many others, even if those words were true. He's "special", "friendly", "always fun to be around"... Somehow, those words just didn't really capture him - at least, not in his entirety.
I then found myself repeating the same sentence over and over, "he's THAT guy". You know when you go to a bar and one guy comes in later and it seems that everyone knows him... he's THAT guy.
You know that one person who all the ladies seem to want to dance with... he's THAT guy.
You know that one guy who just seems to know the scores and stats of every sports team, regardless of the sport... he's THAT guy.
You know that guy that seems to have watched every single episode of every show ever produced, no matter how obscure... he's THAT guy.
You know how there is one person in your group of friends who is the life of the party... he's THAT guy.
You know that person who hugs you so perfectly that, guy or girl, you feel like that hug was made especially for you.... he's THAT guy.
You know that person at every family gathering that seems to make you laugh your ass off at his joke and antics... he's THAT guy.
And, the list just keeps going on and on. So, when the family asked me to assist in the writing of his obituary, I honestly thought, although difficult, I could do this. I guess, on occasion I have a creative bone in my body that flares up and allows me to be inspired to write something that doesn't suck. But, this was the same as someone walking up to a comedian and saying "you're a comedian, make me laugh". Collectively, we knew that we didn't want just a list of dates, accomplishments and "is
survived by.” We wanted to capture
Daryl's essence. In the end, we wanted people
to be reaffirmed in what they already knew about him and, maybe, just maybe,
they might learn a little more about him. However, after several attempts, and probably due to our emotional state, we
found that writing about him was immensely difficult.
Upon hearing the news of his passing,
friends, co-workers and family took to texting and social media to share their
feelings. It was then, after listening to all the people speak of him and how
much he directly affected their lives, that we were able to find some if the words. But, it was my cousin Chelsea who delivered the obituary at the funeral service. And, without out a doubt, her rewrite and subsequently her delivery that day was standing-ovation worthy. In her innocent and eloquent way, and in just a few short minutes, she was able to make us laugh and cry and really remember Daryl.
So allow me to repost her eulogy/obituary in it's entirety:
Daryl Theodore Foster was born on August 30th 1957, and although I would not enter his life until many years later, I have no doubt that from that day forward; he changed the life of every person he met in the best possible way. His passion, his light, his humor, his positivity, his impossible charisma –these are not qualities you develop. They are gifts that you’re born with. How blessed we all are that he invited us, with open arms, to take part in all them.
He really was the very best of everything. He had the best smile and the biggest laugh. We all know he gave the best hugs.
I feel totally confident in saying that there was never a more well rounded sports fan than Daryl Foster. Not only did he travel across the country and back following the Raiders, Cowboys, and Trojans, among other teams, he could probably name every starting player for every NFL, NBA, and MLB team from the past 40 years and then some. He watched Tennis, Golf, Indy car racing, Hockey, he probably watched professional bad mitten for all we know. ESPN should have sent him a special commendation for being their most frequent viewer. Even when he was in the hospital, I think his biggest complaint was that they didn't have ESPN. And while I know Uncle Daryl’s spirit is here, with us, today, I’m sure, tomorrow he will be where he was every year around this time, in Hawaii, watching the NFL Pro-Bowl from the best seat in the house.
Aside from being an ultimate sports fan, he somehow managed to be a true TV fan. He could talk to you about almost any show on any channel from any decade. He made sure he gave every new show at least one good shot. He knew every episode of Seinfeld like the back of his hand. He was dangerous in a trivia game.
When he wasn't watching games on TV or in person, he was cheat- I mean, playing board games at home with the family. He was always full of tricks and surprises and his strategies were questionable but for that, we forgave him instantly.
Speaking of family gatherings, Daryl possessed the exceptional skill of walking in the door, not a minute before or a minute after, but exactly when dinner was on the table, regardless of what time dinner was meant to start.
I was asked to make mention of his love of food, especially rice and grits, although I feel it really was more of a love of butter that he would occasionally put rice or grits underneath. He did love a good steak and lobster dinner, although, again, I think he was just in it for the butter.
Without a doubt, he was the best dance partner any of us had ever had. Throw on some Earth Wind and Fire or some Atomic Dog, or some Michael Jackson, (you would have thought they were related), and the party had been declared. Daryl, himself, was a walking party.
Frankly I don’t know how he had time to do anything here at home, when he was so busy travelling all over the world. He went to Rio, China, Brazil, Mexico, Peru, and all over the United States. It was routine for him to call from the airport and say, "I’m gonna be here or there for a couple of days, see you when I get back". You’d think, "I didn't even know you were going out of town, it’s a Wednesday". Travelling was just part of him. Whether it was for a game or a special event, or just to show up for the people he loved, no matter where they were.
He had a wicked sense of humor and was the slickest of pranksters. He’s the only person I know, who could play a trick on you, and have it make your day. Whether it was with an out of left field comment that was somehow perfectly timed, or a fully fledged elaborate prank, Daryl had the secret to make people laugh, truly, and from their soul, just like he always did.
As a family, we felt it whenever we were around him and we saw it everywhere we went with him. Almost every outing we had, whether it was out at a birthday dinner or at the Long Beach Grand Prix, without fail…from across a room or a crowd, someone would say, “is that Daryl?” or “Daayyy-o” and he would stop and talk and you couldn't tell if it had been 10 years or 24 hours since he’d seen that person. The excitement and the investment was the same, either way. I’m convinced we could go anywhere in the world and uncle Daryl would run into someone he knew.
In thinking about my uncle, I recall the emotions I felt, emotions I’m sure most of us in this room felt, upon hearing about his diagnosis. The feeling that this could not really be happening, that someone with this kind of an impact could not be taken from us, the hope that maybe there had been some kind of mistake, or that it would just be hurdle that we would all get over. Beneath all of that, there was fear. Fear that one day far too soon, we would be here. Some fear that when a loved one dies, there is a struggle not to forget. There is fear that someday, the sound of their voice won’t come to us as quickly or we won’t be able to remember exactly how a joke was told. Little things. One thing we never forget, is how someone makes us feel. No one who knew or even met him for a short time will ever forget how Daryl Foster made them feel.
Daryl is the true definition of a family man. He treated everyone he knew like family. He connected all of us as part of one big family. Daryl’s family. He hugged like no one else. He laughed like no one else. He brought people together like no one else. He loved like no one else.
You see, Daryl made us better people just for having known him. We are blessed that he was in our lives and will miss him very much. May he be an example to all of us of how one person can make an impression and a difference in another's life.
He will forever be our Atomic Dog.