A sad day…

I learned last Friday of the death of my brother-in-law, Buzz Murrell, 91, of Cochiti Lake, NM.

He had suffered a severe stroke 16 months ago, showed some recovery for a while, but in recent months had continued to go downhill.

I know he loved my sister very much and saved her from a dark place after the end of her first marriage. She loved him very much as well and it showed through her attentive care for him during the months following his stroke.

They would have been married 25 years later this year, although they had known eachother for about 61 years. She first met him when she worked one summer at Sierra Blanca ski area (now Ski Apache) selling tickets for the gondola ride. He was the general manager of the ski area, one of many careers he had during his lifetime. He was married at the time and she was still in high school, getting ready for college, but I think there was an underlying attraction that was never explored until she stumbled across him years later when they were both living in Santa Fe. He had since divorced and my sister was trying to rebuild her life after her recent difficult divorce. I can recall how excited my sister was when she told me she had re-connected with him. They eventually married here in Las Cruces and began their life in northern New Mexico.

They especially enjoyed southern Colorado and took many trips there during the summer months over the past years, staying for weeks in their camper and enjoying the San Juan mountains. They were avid birdwatchers and loved their golden retrievers, Molly and Daisy. He also made great fried chicken.

He had many careers in his life, working for major banks, as manager of a ski area, a financial advisor for a real estate company and as a finance/accounting instructor.

Buzz was born at a ranch outside Kenna, New Mexico, a hiccup in the road between Roswell and Portales. It’s now considered a ghost town. The ranch was called the “High Lonesome,” a made for TV name of a remote place on the high plains of southeastern New Mexico. He also spent many years in the Roswell area, graduating from schools there.

One of Buzz’s memories that I found interesting was the attention that a Roswell Little League Team received when it won the Little League World Series in 1956. He witnessed the scrappy local team board a train in Roswell to travel to Williamsport, PA, to participate in the tournament as the clear underdogs. To everyone’s amazement, they won. (I’m working on a story about this event that I hope to share with you in the future.)

There was another sad death last Friday. Sy, a Goldendoodle who was our Goldendoodle Chester’s best friend and (almost clone) had to be put down because his health had deteriorated so much. He was about 11 years old. (Chester is six now.) Sy was the first dog Chester met after we brought him home as a puppy, and he instantly and permanently bonded with the older dog.

When Sy was younger, I would take him to his owner’s home around the corner from us and watch the two dogs wrestle. They looked so much alike that you couldn’t tell which dog was which as they whirled and tumbled in the enthusiastic play that went on until they both had to stop from exhaustion. I loved watching their wrestling matches — it was just pure joy for the dogs and the humans who witnessed it. Sy hadn’t been able to play like that for the past two or three years, but Chester still tried to goad him into a wrestling match when we would stop by the house.

Now, when we walk Chester by Sy’s house, he looks longingly for his friend and seems confused about why he can’t see or smell him nearby.

Be sure to hug the people (and dogs) you love.