Cuz was the only man that ever called me Princess.
Not that I had done anything to earn that title.
Not that I had done anything to earn that title.
And goodness knows my scrawny build, teeth too big for my mouth, and unruly head of corkscrew curls, did not naturally command that nickname.
An unlikely little girl princess for sure!
But, to him, I was just that.
But, to him, I was just that.
Kerry Massari was a Marvel comic book prototype;
dressed in starched Marine Dress Blues.
Strong.
Handsome.
Charming.
A master of the Martial Arts.
His New Orleans accent flavored our conversations and each of his visits to Tampa were highly anticipated and deeply treasured.
Kerry was larger than life.
Strong.
Handsome.
Charming.
A master of the Martial Arts.
His New Orleans accent flavored our conversations and each of his visits to Tampa were highly anticipated and deeply treasured.
Kerry was larger than life.
And to our proud Italian family, whose only legitimate weapon was a butter-knife, Cuz was a real life super hero. Heck, his uniform even came with a saber!
From Vietnam chopper pilot to well respected land use attorney, Kerry was an authentic character.
Respected or feared he managed to evoke intense emotions; identical to those he possessed.
Brilliant, funny, loyal, compassionate, and generous.
Decent, honest, fair, and kind.
Faithful. Always faithful… Semper Fidelis
No need to waste a stamp on his Sainthood application….Catholic or otherwise.
Cuz a saint? No So much.
He was stubborn. Focused. Extreme. Calling him pig-headed would
From Vietnam chopper pilot to well respected land use attorney, Kerry was an authentic character.
Respected or feared he managed to evoke intense emotions; identical to those he possessed.
Brilliant, funny, loyal, compassionate, and generous.
Decent, honest, fair, and kind.
Faithful. Always faithful… Semper Fidelis
No need to waste a stamp on his Sainthood application….Catholic or otherwise.
Cuz a saint? No So much.
He was stubborn. Focused. Extreme. Calling him pig-headed would
be insulting to our foraging friends!
A shrewd businessman. A devote of fine wine, precious stones, and golf. Long before it was in vogue, Kerry practiced the healing art of meditation and deep controlled breathing. He loved to hunt and especially valued the bonding camaraderie that
A shrewd businessman. A devote of fine wine, precious stones, and golf. Long before it was in vogue, Kerry practiced the healing art of meditation and deep controlled breathing. He loved to hunt and especially valued the bonding camaraderie that
occurred in the hunting camps or duck blinds.
He was a voracious learner that filed away his studious conquests in
He was a voracious learner that filed away his studious conquests in
thousands of manila file folders.
Cuz loved his fellow man, but he only really liked a few of them.
Cuz loved his fellow man, but he only really liked a few of them.
He was not a collector of friends or acquaintances. Rather, like his carefully selected and meticulously aged vino, Kerry’s inner circle was a combination of people he trusted and intimately cherished. And how we cherished him.
His relationships rooted in hours, days, even years of profound conversations.
Discussions.
Arguments.
Ruminating and refining.
Typically occurring over fine food, French bread and sweet cream butter.
Then after dinner, more wine and a smoke on the porch.
Cuz’s cigarette perched firmly in one corner of his mouth.
The corner that hung a little lower when he smiled his contagious grin. And when that smile became a laugh he released a deep, cackling roar that was part inhale, part embrace.
Kerry loved to laugh and neither illness nor infirmity had a chance in his presence. Oh, physically his body bore the scars of battles with the Viet Cong, with disease, with age. But mentally; his saber like will to live dismembered each and every assault.
And last week, when the time came, he decided that he would march,
Discussions.
Arguments.
Ruminating and refining.
Typically occurring over fine food, French bread and sweet cream butter.
Then after dinner, more wine and a smoke on the porch.
Cuz’s cigarette perched firmly in one corner of his mouth.
The corner that hung a little lower when he smiled his contagious grin. And when that smile became a laugh he released a deep, cackling roar that was part inhale, part embrace.
Kerry loved to laugh and neither illness nor infirmity had a chance in his presence. Oh, physically his body bore the scars of battles with the Viet Cong, with disease, with age. But mentally; his saber like will to live dismembered each and every assault.
And last week, when the time came, he decided that he would march,
not walk through the valley of the shadow of death.
Refusing to allow pain or cancer or Parkinson’s to define his existence.
Or his passing.
And when cowardly Parkinson’s made the simple act of swallowing his latest adversary, he refused to lay down his arms and slip quietly away. Refused to be captured. Refused to be still and silent.
Instead Kerry mounted a swift and vengeful counter attack… French bread slathered with butter. Andouille sausage. Yellow rice and chicken. Strawberry shakes.
He smoked.
He drank.
He talked.
He laughed.
He told death “I will come when I’m damn good and ready!”
And he did just that.
It wasn’t pretty, but as Cuz always preached, battles are not for the weak.
Or his passing.
And when cowardly Parkinson’s made the simple act of swallowing his latest adversary, he refused to lay down his arms and slip quietly away. Refused to be captured. Refused to be still and silent.
Instead Kerry mounted a swift and vengeful counter attack… French bread slathered with butter. Andouille sausage. Yellow rice and chicken. Strawberry shakes.
He smoked.
He drank.
He talked.
He laughed.
He told death “I will come when I’m damn good and ready!”
And he did just that.
It wasn’t pretty, but as Cuz always preached, battles are not for the weak.
War is in fact hell. And his final fight was a classic.
A withered super-hero in a tattered recliner giving more than he was receiving.
A final hug.
An eternal kiss goodbye on the forehead.
A firm, strong, steady handshake of approval.
A wink and vintage grin.
Kerry Massari was victorious! He is now free to explore the heavens and rekindle old friendships. To sit with his Maker and ask all those questions he had been mulling over for years, and, for sure; to characteristically initiate debates with his God!
Cuz was the only man that ever called me Princess.
And his Princess will miss him.
To Debra, the hero in his life and his loving wife, and to Darren, Chris, Kendra, and little Sam; my deepest sympathy and love.
A final hug.
An eternal kiss goodbye on the forehead.
A firm, strong, steady handshake of approval.
A wink and vintage grin.
Kerry Massari was victorious! He is now free to explore the heavens and rekindle old friendships. To sit with his Maker and ask all those questions he had been mulling over for years, and, for sure; to characteristically initiate debates with his God!
Cuz was the only man that ever called me Princess.
And his Princess will miss him.
To Debra, the hero in his life and his loving wife, and to Darren, Chris, Kendra, and little Sam; my deepest sympathy and love.
