I caught the news late last night. Imagine it must be tough right now. Mourning a great man while also wondering what you're going to do.
But at least it was a good time while it lasted. The guy brought Rock and Roll to Middle America and you got to prune his Crape Myrtle. Remember the first time you met? You were knee deep into a hedgerow when Dick pulled into the driveway. He got out and started jogging up the front steps when you called, "Hey, Dick!" I know he said, "It's Mr. Clark," but at least he sort of smiled, right?
I would try to steer clear of the negative thoughts. You always want to bring up how he invited you to that New Year's Party in Times Square. You and two million other people showed up. You take away that he misled you. I tend to think the dude just wanted you to get out more, maybe have a good time for once. If I watched a man manicure Azaleas seven days a week, I would think he needs a night out, too.
We both know lots of people in the rake and hoe trade, yet you're the only one who ever got to garden for a celebrity. I think that says something about you, man. How many people can cut an electric guitar into a Berkman's Golden? A good number of people actually, but that's not the point. The point is that none of those other people cut an electric guitar intoDick Clark's Berkman's Golden.
Bottom line: the guy had a great run, and you were there - in the yard - for a good part of it. Cherish those memories. The world knew that voice, that hair, that ageless face, but how many knew about his love for the Japanese Maple? Your relationship ended at the front door. It was a relationship though. And that's something to be proud of.
Thinking of you,