#gardy

[gardy-snarly]

logs on to tumblr.com

[anapoke]

Wondering if I will ever finish this draw 😪

Also it's Leiftan but kinda looks like Mathieu??? Lmao

//

Pensando si algún día terminare este dibujo 😪

Yyy es Leiftan, pero de alguna manera se ve como Mathieu?? Lmao

[kumiko4]

Had to work a little more on the clothes of Gardy and on some shadows but I got bored. Hope you like it!

[bubbleroshelle]

Alajéa ft Sugariel and Roshelle

Had this on hold since 2018 and I never managed to finish it til now. My first drawing with Alajéa. So enjoy ᕙ༼*◕_◕*༽ᕤ

@sugariel

[lokithanos]

The outfield hug added 10 years to my life 💕

[allinforbaseball]

The best news!!

[my-love-for-leiftan]

Me trying to understand the spoilers from episode 25

[johnthestitcher]

In Memoriam

George - January 10,1953 to July 7, 2019

This past weekend was the memorial to my ex-husband, George, and I was present and also delivered one of the eulogies (below):

In case you don’t know me or remember me, I am John Mangiapane. Next month, November 2019, would have been George’s and my 10th wedding anniversary.

In July, when I was informed about George’s passing, it really hit me hard. To divorce someone is one thing; to lose them forever is an entirely different scenario. When I was asked if there were any items in the New Hampshire house I may want, I asked for anything that referenced Monet’s ‘Water Lillies’ paintings, especially a knock-off oil painting I once gave him. I have decided to explain what the pieces meant to the two of us.

Early in our dating, I had said to George that ‘Life with Me would never be boring’. We traveled all over to go to concerts George was playing in or wanted to hear, to attending musicals at the Goodspeed Opera House to PPAC in Providence to Boston Symphony Hall to hear Maurizio Pollini perform a piano recital that was so brilliant, that Pollini received a standing ovation at intermission! One night, George packed up a briefcase of sheet music and we went to the recital hall at Keene State, and in the empty hall George played the Cole Porter Songbook, and I sang along and we had a marvelous time, as George explored the fact that at that time I still had a vocal range. Finally, we ran out of music, and George pulled out a portfolio, and said, ‘I have chosen to play this piece especially for you’. It was Debussy’s ‘Reflections on the Water’. I stood there in complete amazement while he beautifully played this piece. When he was finished, I said to him; “No matter what happens to me in the future, I will always remember and cherish you playing this piece for me.”

Several years later, George was involved in a near-fatal car accident. When the hospital called me at work, and I ran from Brattleboro to Keene, I don’t remember thinking much of anything except trying to get to the Emergency Department as fast as I could. Went he saw me walk into the ER, he started crying. What you also may not know or remember, is that in three days George was scheduled to give a piano recital at RiverMead and he did not cancel it, much to my dismay. He performed the scheduled concert and never informed the crowd in any way that he had suffered a concussion and should not have been playing piano at all! And what did he play at that concert? Debussy’s ‘Reflections on the Water’. I was shocked.

A few years later, George and I ended our relationship through a divorce. It was not a happy time. At one of our final court appearances together when we were not supposed to speak to each other without our attorneys present, I walked out of the courthouse and George was forlornly standing on the sidewalk; his attorney had forgotten that he needed transportation home, so as crazy at it sounds, I ended up giving George a ride back to his house since I had to pass it to go home, anyway.  We talked.

I told him that as he moved forward through his life of music and song, that no matter how beautifully he played the music, that he still needed to listen to the lyrics to be sung; they were really meant to go together. I also said one other thing: I thanked him for exposing me to and for helping me to appreciate Live Music in a way I never could have imagined before we met. I thanked him for his gift of music; it may have been some of the last words we ever spoke together.

I never expected that his memorial could come so prematurely – he was only 66, but I thank ABBA for this lyric, which I always knew I would sing at it:

“Thank you for the music, the song I’m singing.

Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing.

Who could live without it? I ask in all honesty - What would Life be?

Without a song or a dance - What are we?

So, I say: ‘Thank you for the Music’ – for giving it to me.”

 Rest in Peace, Little Bear

-----------

Just before the final blessing and dismissal, I asked for the microphone, and asked everyone to stand up and give George a standing ovation. It was a fitting ending to a lovely memorial.