Footprints

Excerpted from Eternal Troubadour:  the Improbable Life of Tiny Tim by Justin Martell, ©2016:

Shortly after Tiny died, Sue’s father joined her at the hospital.

“How is he?” He asked.

“He’s gone,” Sue replied.

A nurse delivered Tiny’s wedding ring and a Celtic cross necklace Sue had given him very recently.  Then she and her father said a prayer in the hospital chapel and left.  The same limousine that had ferried Tiny and Sue to the benefit now took her home.  As she stepped out of the limo, she was greeted by  the “most unbearable sight of the evening”:  the footprints she and Tiny had left in the snow on the way out of the house.

It’s always something that gets you:  fading footprints in the snow, a song on the radio, a blinking light on the answering machine; something that remind us that we don’t know, can’t know, didn’t know.

Improbable

“Even after we were married, sometimes I’d be driving along and I’d look over and he’d be sitting there in the car and I’d be shocked all over again.  I’d think, ‘Tiny Tim is in my car, and I’m married to him.’  You’d think I’d get used to it, but I don’t think I ever did.”  ~Tiny Tim’s widow, Miss Sue, from Eternal Troubadour:  the Improbable Life of Tiny Tim by Justin Martell, ©2016

Opening the Door

“He was sincere, and he was caring, and he was loving, and he was not like other people.  The fact of his acceptance and embrace was different among certain kinds of people– many just saw him as weirder than weird and that was that, but there were many others that found him delightful.  In a way, his acceptance was part of opening the door to a general acceptance of people who were not like other people– they didn’t have to be marginalized.”  ~Peter Yarrow on Tiny Tim, in Eternal Troubadour:  the Improbable Life of Tiny Tim by Justin Martell, ©2016