This is one of the harder posts I
have had to write. It is not hard in terms of content. I have known
what I wanted to include for many weeks now. It is just hard in terms of
actually doing it. Feels like there is some finality to it. Forces
me to embrace what is and let go of what is not, at least for a few
moments. But, the time has come. I
feel like I need to get this one out there, because there are more posts, ideas
brewing, things happening, stuff waiting in the wings . . . I just had to do
this one before I get to all that other stuff.
Ron
deserves the greatest and best tributes. This does not even begin to
cover what all is owed to him, but for now, it will have to do. It has
been on my mind for nearly three months to offer up these pieces of his
celebration of life service for those who wanted to be there, but were not able
to attend (or for those who were there and want to remember again).
First
off, for anyone who has not already had a chance to read it, Ron’s obituary ran
in the Kalamazoo Gazette and the Alma Morning Sun. If you'd like, you can leave comments for others to read at Legacy.com.
Ron’s celebration
of life service took place at the Central Michigan Youth For Christ on 5/13/12 . One of Ron’s friends from high school, Bryce Wickes,
officiated, along with his father, Brian Wickes, who worked in the same
building as Ron for several years. My friend, Wes Wickes, flawlessly ran
audio and visual. He and several other YFC
staff stayed up through the night to help clean up from the Alma
High School P.O. Box 757 , Alma , MI 48801
My brother and I
created a bookmark to remember Ron with. These were passed out at the
celebration of life service. For anyone who was not able to attend who
would like one, just send me your address and I will get it to you. You
can email me (heatherbelle79@yahoo.com) or write me (8603 N. 46th Street , Augusta , MI 49012
Ron had started a
playlist of songs he wanted to have at his celebration service. I
didn’t know he had even got around to working on this, but after he passed, I
found a playlist in his iTunes simply named “death list.” I knew right away from looking at the songs
that this was it. I think it was a work in progress, but we went with
what he had so far and incorporated the songs into the service. I just
thought I would include his list here, for anyone wanting to replicate it just
to get a sense of what Ron was thinking of in those final weeks:
1)
Early In the Morning
– Peter, Paul & Mary
2)
Narcolepsy – Ben Folds
Five
3)
The Wood Song –
Indigo Girls
4)
What a Wonderful
World – Louis Armstrong
5)
If I Ever Leave This
World Alive – Flogging Molly
6)
Struttin’ With Some
Barbecue – The Marsalis Family
Ron’s brother, Doug,
used the Flogging Molly pick in a video he made using pictures taken throughout
Ron’s lifetime. We’d hoped I’d be able
to include it here, but he’s run into some issues with having YouTube accept
the audio. I also got some warnings about the audio content in the video
I uploaded, but so far it seems to be working. I will post the link and
we will see how long it keeps playing. Please let me know if you try this
and it tells you the video is no longer available. Doug will get his to
me once he gets it working and I promise to post it on here. Ideally, we
would have had one long video of Ron during all the different phases in his
life, but working on this a couple hours apart with only a few days to do it
proved to be challenging. So Doug and I created separate videos.
For me, this was an epic project that involved a lot of laughter and
tears. I am certain the same is true for Doug. I cannot watch the
videos without experiencing both. I am also overcome with love each and
every time I watch Ron flash across my screen in these pictures, remembering
the places we visited, moments we shared, the people who loved him, and our
love for each other. In my video, I used three of Ron’s death list songs
and two of my own picks . . . a liberty I think he would allow. Please give yourself some time and space to
laugh and cry if you are going to watch.
The service included a large chunk of time that was left open just for folks to share memories or express their love for Ron. Many family and friends, both his and mine, offered insight at what a tremendous human Ron was. It was clear to see that Ron touched lives wherever he went and always gave people something to laugh about. Most people spoke without anything prepared. My brother and I were not so sure we would be able to think on our feet when our emotions were so high, so we prepared something to read ahead of time.
My brother, Dustin, is a writer. He started toying with this piece when we worked on Ron’s obituary, in which, we said Ron was a superhero. In his high school years, Ron played the role of a character at YFC known as Captain Ron. The tribute Dustin paid Ron, who he thought of as a brother and close friend, is just wonderful. His inclusion of Ron’s many talents and strengths as super powers makes me laugh and cry at the same time. I only wish you could hear Dustin read it, for he is a talented reader, too. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
My brother, Dustin, is a writer. He started toying with this piece when we worked on Ron’s obituary, in which, we said Ron was a superhero. In his high school years, Ron played the role of a character at YFC known as Captain Ron. The tribute Dustin paid Ron, who he thought of as a brother and close friend, is just wonderful. His inclusion of Ron’s many talents and strengths as super powers makes me laugh and cry at the same time. I only wish you could hear Dustin read it, for he is a talented reader, too. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Ronald A. Clark, or sometimes known
as Captain Ron, or Turtle Man, avenger of musical justice, wielder of a vast
array of culinary arts, and all-around superhero of nice-guyness, ended his
battle with cancer earlier this week, far surpassing all mortals’ expectations.
He passed away next to his loyal and loving sidekick, Heather Hell’s Bells
Hoffman and his hallowed hound-daughters Ru-Dog and Sophie Neuroses. Together
they spent the last two years in their fortress of awesome-itude, wringing
every ounce of joy out of life.
Captain Ron’s
infamous saga on the planet earth found him gracing the towns of Ashland,
Pittsburgh, Kalamazoo, and, of course, his hometown of Alma where he mastered
his mighty chuckle-rays that could melt the coldest hearts into a pile of
quivering laughter. He hurled thank-you-arangs with the precision of powerful
politeness that could make even the dreariest McDonald’s cashier love him. And
then he’d vanish, speeding down the streets in his rusted-out Ron-mobiles, his Toyota
or cherry red Festiva, to find the next dark heart to brighten. Some say he was
just a man; others claimed him as a saint; but it is us here that knew the real
him, Ronald A. Clark, superhero.
Kryptonite
couldn’t touch Ron, but he did have his vulnerabilities: bad poetry, dental
hygiene, and slugs. Far more extensive were Ron’s sources of power. He
generated them from the warmth of the earth’s yellow sun, that and
Lick-a-maids, and the History Channel, and jazz and coffee and cigarettes. His
utility belt was jam-packed full of accessories. He carried a trombone on which
he played tunes that would make evil-doers spontaneously burst into dance. He
came equipped with an array of gadgetry of the most futuristic technologies,
and his nimble fingers could make short work of solving any and all of man’s
greatest quandaries. In fact, his mind itself was a formidable adversary. In
his super-human mass of gray matter he stored the answer to every trivia
question ever asked. Alec Trebec once responded to a description of Ron’s
knowledge, “What is the answer to everything?” But Ron was also modest. He
turned down repeated requests to make a super-celebrity appearance on Jeopardy,
saying he wanted to give everyone else their fair chance. And he was the first
one to tell you when he didn’t know something. Though, I suspect, he always
knew, and his humble shrugs were simply a ruse to make us mortals all feel a
little better about our meager minds.
I was lucky
enough to encounter Ron for two stages in his life. In his teenage years, Ron
patrolled the halls of high school, protecting the underdogs, all of us nerds
and punks and geeks, with his supersonic-laughter and bionic-friendship. Then
Ron sailed onward, set on sharing his powers with the world, with young campers
in eastern Michigan, teaching cooks and musicians throughout the Midwest how to
appreciate life, and even a stint in Costa Rica, where he flew, his cape
ruffling over his shoulders, to seek out the least fortunate. And then back to Michigan ,
where Ron used his powers to push back the clouds, and let the sun warm away a
dismal February and spur on the earliest summer in dreary Kalamazoo ’s
history.
Everyone
that knew Ron loved him. Everyone who witnessed his powers swooned. We were all
charmed, uplifted, all adoring fanboys and girls of this hero we all cheered
for. Ron let me call him a friend, a brother, and that was my greatest honor.
And I’m as much in disbelief as everyone else to see him go. How can we
understand when the best hero falls, when his epic saga ends? But, like all the
best superheroes, the story never really ends. The super universe resets, and
it does for Ron, as he lives on in the new comic book panels of our memories,
where he will forever be our hero.
I didn’t know if I would be able
to even speak at Ron’s celebration, let alone say anything about him. But
I really wanted to. So, in the middle of the night, still slightly
intoxicated from a wonderful party Ron’s former roommate and one of his
all-time best friends, Mitch, had thrown in his honor, I wrote something.
And the next day, in front of a room full of people who love Ron, I read it, my
voice barely cracking. As mentioned in previous posts, I don’t grieve very
well publicly and that whole week between Ron’s death and the service was busy
for me. I don’t think I really felt the impact of his passing until I
returned to our empty home with no urgent projects to demand my time.
Then I began to really feel. Anyway, I am closing this post by including
the words I shared about Ron.
Ron Clark was the most important
human ever to live...to me. He
changed my entire life. I saw him...saw
his face...saw his kind eyes...saw his spirit reaching out to me across
a crowded Rubbles. I saw our entire life
sprawling out before us...an actual lifetime, not this tiny slice we were
actually dealt. I fell in love so hard,
even when I was not prepared to.
Not living in the same town, all we had were phone
calls. We spent HOURS on the phone every
day. When you cannot actually see
someone face to face to forge a new relationship, everything is based on these
conversations. I learned Ron through his
words, through our talks, through this intense intimacy that was somehow
achieved telephonically. Every weekend
of our long distance relationship was packed with adventure and ooey-gooey
ridiculous mush that most people could barely stand to be around without
barfing.
Ron moved in with me and we thought
we would have the sweet life. But even
then we knew he was not well and too soon after he got there, we found out just
how unwell he was.
Cancer did not dampen Ron’s will to live. He defied the odds, laughed in the face of
the disease process, and outlived every single medical professional’s
prognosis. He was a champion and I was
by his side every step of the way, fighting the good fight and trying to make
the most out of each day. In between me
working and him attending countless medical appointments, we tried to squeeze
in vacations and visits and simple little things, like a well-cooked meal or a
dog walk. I am sure that Ron did not let me know the full extent of
his suffering, just as I know how much he kept the brightest side forward for
friends and family. He never wanted
people to worry about him. He never
wanted to cause anyone sadness...and yet, how could any of us not be sad in
losing someone like Ron? It is a sign
that he was loved.
Ron and I shared just over three
years together, half of it pre-diagnosis and half of it post-diagnosis. Of course, we lived a much freer and happier
life before we knew he was dying. And
yet I learned so much about him...any myself...in the course of caring
for him. I had the honor of having Ron
allow me to help him with the most basic and intimate tasks. I saw him at his weakest, saddest, most frightened
moments. I saw the side of him that he
did not want anyone else to see and I know that it was a special privilege that
he permitted me to be a part of his dying...and living...process. For that, Ron, I must thank you. What a gift, to be with someone when they are
that vulnerable. You trusted me and I
hope I did not let you down.
I left work to take care of Ron
during the last three months of his life.
I treasure those months so much.
I wish I could say they allowed us time to have all the conversations I
imagined in my head...I had so much I wanted to convey to Ron. But, instead we planned a wedding...and a
huge birthday party...and yes, we even planned for this day, a little. We tried to squeeze in mini-adventures, going
out to eat, visiting with friends, and even a trip to the zoo, for as long as
he felt up to it. And at the end of the
day, rather than having those big conversations, Ron mainly preferred to fall
asleep watching something and to save those talks for a later time. I wish I could have said all that was on my
heart, but I have to think he knew what was there, or at least hope that he
does now. Let me just say to anyone else
who has those thoughts of ‘oh, I wish I had said or did this last time’ - trust
me, you never say or do all you want to, even when you have three months carved
out to do it.
Ron stayed himself right up until
the morning he passed away. The weekend
before he went, we took him on a long dog walk in Battle
Creek and he hung out with me outside while I worked
on his vegetable garden beds, preparing them for summer. He was not feeling quite up to snuff the day
before he died and our hospice nurse came to the house and let him know that he
was likely nearing the end and his body was slowing down after such a long
fight. She said he probably had days or
maybe weeks left. I was crying and after
I ushered her out of the house, Ron said, “Don’t be sad. Don’t worry about it. They have all been wrong 100% of the time
before and they are wrong now. I’m not
going anywhere.” He proceeded to eat an
impressive amount of food. He was
planning to see the Avengers movie with his brother the next day. He went to sleep and didn’t wake up. He did not suffer and it was not dragged
out. He went on his own terms. He went with dignity.
People who know me know I have
struggled a time or two with faith. How
can there be a God or a higher power if someone like sweet, kind Ron dies so
soon, from a debilitating illness, while other people, people who sometimes do
vile things, get to live out long, full, rounded lives? Still, no matter me questioning the order of
the universe, I like to imagine Ron in heaven.
I wonder if he has found where they keep the smoke filled bars where he
can rack pool balls, belt out some karaoke, and meet the most famous jazz
musicians ever to have lived. I wonder
if he found his Grandma Pockets yet. It
gives me comfort to imagine that he has some kind of fluffy cloud perch from
which he can look down and watch over me.
It gives me even more comfort to
feel that he is a part of everything...that he is in the morning sunrise,
the bursting forth of spring flowers, the unfurling of fern fronds, the
fireflies flash in the summer heat, the changing colors on my old maple
tree. And I take Ron with me...he
urges me to go forth and be a better person and live with more compassion and
gentleness in my life.
Ron Clark really was the most
important human to ever live...for me.
He changed me. My family and
friends have been talking about this since I met him...how I became lighter
and happier and more loving. My cousin
Michelle pointed out yesterday that it is because Ron showed me what true love
is. True love, I thought, was
cheesy. But, she is right, Ron showed
me. He loved all of me. He loved the best and the worst parts of
me. He loved and forgave every perceived
flaw. I have never been able to be so
open with someone in my life. In loving
me, he taught me to love.
So, now he is gone, and I miss him
like crazy and there are not even words enough for me to express what he really
meant to me. He meant everything. I can’t say enough nice things about
him. Nothing I say would ever be
adequate. Instead, I leave you with
this:
Top Ten Things I Love About Ron Clark:
1)
He was
nice to EVERYONE, everywhere he went, all the time.
2)
He loved
to learn and wanted to know everything about everything, making him the king of
trivia and able to answer most questions I had on a daily basis. And, if he didn’t know the answer, he
admitted it.
3)
He
apologized when he thought he did something wrong and owned his mistakes, but
did not hang onto guilt. And, he stood
his ground if he knew he was not in the wrong – he wasn’t a doormat.
4)
He
forgave. Everyone. For everything.
5)
He
laughed. Often. Fully.
With his whole body.
6)
He loved
to make other people laugh and was expert at this. He never ceased to be full of humor.
7)
He was
talented in so many ways – chef, musician, welder, computer technician, blogger
– he could have done anything he wanted to and been successful because whatever
he did, his heart was always in it 100%.
8)
He loved
fully and was able to receive love fully.
9)
He was
giving, of himself and anything he had – he took pleasure in sharing.
10)
He never
gave up. Never. Not even in the face of death.
Wow, I really should have made this a Top 20 list or a Top
50 list or even a Top 100 list. But even
then I would still have things to say, there is so much I love about Ron. I have the rest of my life to say them. I will go on telling the story of Ron Clark
and trying to live a little bit more by his example.
Ron, I love you and I will never
stop. I miss you and I am sorry this had
to happen. Peace be with you now...there
is no more cancer...no more pain...no more fight. I hope that wherever you are, there is just
love...all encompassing and surrounding, because you deserve that.
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