I admit I am a Baby-boomer Face-Booker. My participation in that world has provided me numerous connections and reconnects. Simply, the pluses far outweigh the minuses. Tomorrow when this blog posts, I will share it on Facebook. Every Sunday one of my first loyal readers has been my long time friend, Denny Shirm. This last week there was no Denny. On Monday morning a post went up that Denny had died on Sunday.
One of the realities of life in my 70’s is that the passing of long time friends comes much more frequently. It is my privilege to honor Denny in this space. What I will share recognizes his tender heart, his struggles and how he lived through them, and finished very well.
In the early 90’s First Christian Church became the hub of the wheel for Twelve-step meetings in the San Luis Valley. Each Thursday, a Big Book study, which began with three or four regulars, had grown to a full house in the Fellowship Hall that often had thirty people there. Sitting around the tables was a crew of people that reflected the complex diversity of The Valley. There were ranchers, farm workers, professors, hippy artists, a preacher, and an ongoing collection of residents of the Community Corrections.
I remember very distinctly when Denny showed up and began to bond with the community. His story is not mine to tell. He was very clear, he deserved to be in prison, and was grateful for the opportunity to rebuild his life. Soon Denny began also attending our church, I became his pastor and he became my friend.
We lived in a 3-BR, one bath house on an acreage west of town. It was quite an operation sharing the bathroom with six of us. We loved our
“Farmette”. There were over 100 trees on our place. The house had a family room that was a converted garage. It had a great wood stove and a wet bar. The irony was not lost on me that I quit drinking at the same time I owned my own bar. I was standing next to the bar one day and it hit me— the plumbing is here, the space is here, we could convert this to a second bathroom. Enter Denny—a carpenter extraordinaire.
He came out to assess the possibilities and within five minutes he said, “I can build you a really nice bathroom”. Six weeks later we had a walk-in shower, all kinds of built in cabinets, a window to look out over the sink that faced west to the San Juans and a lockable gun cabinet—get a clue gun owners. He did it all by himself with a little help from us. Having Denny around was fun. He was full of life, humor, wit and generosity.
When I moved to Denver in 1997, Denny kept up with me. He would stop in from time to time. It was beautiful to watch his life continue to flourish. There was always a presence of warmth and gratitude with Denny. On top of that, he was a 65 year Bronco fan.
Denny, your encouragement of me was a gift. I will miss your pithy comments on Facebook. More than that, I am sad for all those close to you who are saying goodbye with the combination of laughter and tears. Yes Denny, you provided both in your life… but there were a whole lot more laughs than tears.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 