A SONG FOR TEDDY (1954-2019)

16 Jun A SONG FOR TEDDY (1954-2019)

Have you ever met someone whose very being radiated with love for life and a heart for helping others?

I did. I knew the Marsico name for years, but I didn’t meet the tiny dynamo that was Teddy until 2013. I knew within minutes of our first encounter that he’d crossed my path for a reason.

We were friends almost instantly, which is a miracle in itself. I’m not one to instantly trust anyone, but with Teddy it was easy.

I could go on and on about him, but I’ll jump ahead to the day he solved the biggest mystery I faced as a new writer. I had a manuscript with no title. Ever the shining knight, Ted sat with me and asked questions. Then, he took out a piece of paper and asked, “How about this?”

In his careful, perfect printing, he wrote:

KLS-9

i couldn’t breathe. The hair on my arms stood up. I knew this was it. I had a title. He’d figured it out.

i made sure everyone knew who he was at my first book signing. I let him know how grateful I was. I thanked him in front of everyone – and, true to Ted, he turned around and lifted me up with the sweetest speech.

After that day, even though we didn’t see each other often, I always knew if I called and said, “I need you,” he would have been at my side before I ended the call. He was so proud when SABRE-6 came out, and every now and again, I’d get a text saying “thinking of you.” Weeks, months would go by, but I always knew he was out there. True Friends always are.

i still can’t wrap my mind around my dear friend being gone. I pushed the pain away for three weeks. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. I raged. I couldn’t imagine the world without his Light in it.

When I sucked up the courage to speak at his service, I realized his Light is not gone. I saw it in the eyes of everyone there. But most of all, Teddy’s Light blazed from his two sons, handsome chips off the Marsico block.

You’re not gone, my forever friend. You touched so many, lifted so many, and we are all better people for knowing you. I can still hear your laughter. I can still see “that look” you would give me when I’d say something more off-the-wall than usual.

Thank you. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for always listening. Thank you for an amazing title. I miss you so much, Teddy. I promise I’ll keep writing. I’m dedicating the third book to you.

All my love, always.