They call me a “curmudgeon”. I guess I earned that label honestly. I can be a bit cranky from time to time. But underneath that crankiness I’m a real “peach”. Some of the time.
For my wife, Jill, and me the family means everything . Our two boys, Max and Spike are the ultimate treasures of our lives. So when our youngest son, Spike, died from a sudden case of bacterial pneumonia at age 30 three years ago it had a huge impact on me and I can’t even begin to describe the grief it has brought to Jill. So today, like it or not and I don’t like it, Spike’s death partially defines who I am. No getting around that.
Spike was a fabulous, energetic, extremely creative and affable man. He was a born sailor, literally. Spike grew up sailing. You never had to tell Spike what to do on the boat. He knew what to do. He was a wonderful craftsman with steel. He worked as an engineer on small ships servicing ports in Alaska for three years. Then he worked as an engineer for the Foss tugboat company for a while. He enjoyed going to sea but he didn’t care for the lifestyle. He wanted to build things. He wanted a social life. He finally got a job in an ornamental iron shop. He really loved this work. My house is full of Spike’s handiwork with steel. Spike was a true artist.
But now we have a beautiful vivacious granddaughter, Violet Spika Perry and a brand new grandson Drake Shaw Perry. Our son Max and his wife Stacy are wonderful parents and we try to see them as often as possible. Violet does not think I’m a curmudgeon. She calls me “Buppy” and I like that. “ Come on Buppy.”
There you have it just in case you were wondering . Jill and I keep Spike alive in our hearts.