I must admit, first off, that as a drama teacher Mark Sheppard really bugged me. We spent class last year playing games and practicing scenes with little to no help on actual acting technique from our teacher. The class was exasperating; I was disappointed but not heartbroken when I didn't get into Drama I this year.
I also knew, somewhere in the back of my head, that Shepps had cancer. He'd gotten treatment for it last year, but when he came back he was as loud and as round as I'd ever seen him. In fact, I never saw him again after very early this year--I'm glad, in a way, that I can remember him the way he was, "appliance" and all. I don't think he would have wanted to hear goodbyes from Lakeside-he was a part of the community for two decades, and I can't imagine how painful it would have been to have people look at him and know he was dying--writing him off before he was ready to leave. His life was all about his work, and it will be comforting, weeks from now, to know he was teaching until his last day. To Mr. Sheppard himself, I only wish I had gotten to say thanks for an awkward scene with Bailey, the ball toss game, and especially for making Schmidt kiss Danny Abrams in Merchant of Venice.
And to all the people who I cried with (or on) today--no matter how often we snark and fight, you guys really came through. I promise I won't be quite so melodramatic and mopey tomorrow, but today I offer a heartfelt thanks.
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1 comment:
Meow, uber belated comment. I'm glad that you and Navel wrote Shepps posts, because I was way to chicken to. They're comforting to read, even two days later.
That's probably the worst: how are you supposed to say thankyou?
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