I last saw Dustin Huffman at my Uncle Skeeter's funeral, in October of last year. I marveled at how he had grown and how handsome he was. But then, I hadn't seen him since he was 7 or 8. His Grandma (Helen Huffman, aka Skippy) was my mother's sister. For my mom, who knew him much better, this was a hard loss. To my shame, I barely knew him at all. Yet, I feel his loss. Maybe because he was so young. Maybe because I promised myself that I would strive to include my whole family somehow in my life, but in the back of my mind, I always thought I had time. How could I know I did not? All wrapped up in my own life, I missed knowing a really great kid that, by the stories I am hearing, was just that. A great kid.
My family is not close on my moms side. Her parents died when she was only three. They were the glue that held that family together, and when they were gone, their children went in many different direction. My mom was the baby, and while most of them lived in Salem, my mom ended up down in Calcutta. We barely ever saw them when I was growing up. That continued into our adult lives. I have cousins to my moms siblings that I have not seen in 20 or more years. Despite the fact that Dustin and his family lived in Salem and I lived in Calcutta, we never saw each other. No family reunions or picnics. Nothing.
I regret not knowing this fine young man. What an opportunity I have lost, forever. My Aunt says he truly loved his grandparents and helped them a lot when they were still alive. They mattered to him.
My little family went down to Gretchen's and left some flowers and a note to him, talking about what we had missed in not knowing him. We also left a wreath of flowers at the lookout above Gretchen's. The sadness there is one you can almost touch. I feel like I missed something great. I know I did. I will be thinking of you a while Dustin Huffman. Your Life's Light will be greatly missed.
1 comments:
I suspect Dustin would be very pleased that he was immortalized by your comments. You know, nothing on the Internet ever dies--it ends up in bits and pieces everywhere. Dustin lives on, through stories, through the impressions he made on the people around him, and even through the loss of him, making everyone around him realize how precious the time is we have with our family and friends. Your post was a poignant one. Thanks for making us all stop and think about our family and our connections. I have a very similar situation with not having grown up around my father's family. Now that I live out west, I keep meaning to get to know them better. The few I have met, I have more in common with than my mother's family. Sometimes seeking out your family helps you to know yourself. I never related to mom's family and when I met dad's family, it was like I met my people. Thanks for this reminder to make an effort to get to know them better. See what one post can do?
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