by Kristin L. Anderson, wife

"Love is like the sea. It's a moving thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from the shore it meets, and it's different with every shore." Zora Neale Hurston

So the earthly presence of Terry Easter, my husband, has transitioned to that ethereal eternal dimension, that place of infinite luminosity.

His life was a wildly WoNdErFuL ride...rich in relationships...a non-conformist free to be his beautiful self, transferring that understanding of all that he discovered within to those of us he held closest. He was rock steady, always, in chaos. He was benevolent, always, to anyone in his orb. He'd be silent rather than criticize. He was able to recognize magnificent beauty within a block of raw wood, working with it til he uncovered its natural perfection ~ from the outside he'd *seen* its gorgeous core, much as he saw people: he'd give anyone the time of day.

Whatever words are written, it's never enough to succinctly sum up the life of a man, such a full man.

So much of his early years brings a smile to my face.

• He and Aretha Franklin were both born March 25, 1942 (and both died from pancreatic cancer within months of each other). And yeah, they knew each other.

• He ran the neighborhood Seattle streets with his fellow Boy Scout buddy, a young Jimi Hendrix and remained good friends 'til Jimi died. Another Garfield High School friend was the "older" Quincy Jones, who was, already, like Jimi, jumping into the music scene...two soon-to-be-giants in the music world that sparked his interest in something other than basketball!

• In 1964, he was called up for two years of active service in Vietnam. He played basketball for the army during much of that time. However, like so many others during that period, he was unfortunately still exposed to the very evil Agent Orange.

• He returned home, had a three year marriage that gave him a fabulous son, “Lil T,” Terry Easter-Hairston .

• Attending St Martin's in Olympia, WA, he was a basketball whiz, gaining mega accolades for scoring the still-standing record of 56 points in a single game and being named All-American twice.

• It was a natural progression that Terry, too, would find his way into the music industry in the '70's, promoting little Michael Jackson, the O'Jays, Teddy Pendergrass, etc - literally every act on the CBS label during the '70's decade.

But the course of his life and the core of his heart took a 360° turn when our daughter, Anika Easter, was born. We left the fast lanes of LA for the warmth of my Southern roots.

We were both fiercely free-willed and beautifully managed forty years through understanding the intricacies of what a true bond is. We each allowed and encouraged one another's *needed time*. We were, quite simply, like two trees in the same forest, seemingly separate, but with the interconnectivity of the same root system. Which is why he was my chosen man and I his forever wife. We'd travel together, or alone, always trusting our innate friendship, our fused hearts. We could each be our best out there, singly or together...and together we were ~ solidly ~ in the long fourteen months of his final trek towards the promised land.

Was this last year's hard, from diagnosis to the end? You betcha it was...but not from the caregiving aspect. In that, I wouldn't have traded a single day of being there for Terry. All those dozens of hours by his side at the VA or Emory, reassuring him he was not alone in this, advocating treatments for him, always within earshot of his room at home where Ani and I could be readily available to provide him with any possible source of comfort. His wide net of friends checked on him regularly by phone or packages (Tom Keefe, Rob Keefe, Gumbi Ortiz, Curtis Brown, Ronnie Hammon, Frank Bowers, Woody, Ali Cabral, the Olympian Saints basketball squad, Charlie Williams, Dusty Baker, Bill North, Troy Collier, Jolene Wolff...hey ALL y'all). His daughter and son-in-law, Michael Guthrie, were incredibly present at any given moment, giving powerful, selfless love... His grandson, Mikah, was his daily dose of fresh joy and filled up his heart by the hour.

Three weeks prior to his passing, Terry learned via Ancestry.com that he had another son from his time at the army training camp. We met his outstanding first born son a few days later when Brandle Easter and his then-17 year old son, Lil Brandle, came to meet their father/granddad at his bedside. They share so many similar physical features, a great love of sports and that good natured *calm*, that steady way of speaking. Such a wonderful addition to our family, as we knew this dimension here was losing Terry.

The perspicuity of his impending transition to his passing was greeted, actually, with great peace on his part. No morphine, just his natural God-guided walk. His ancestors came for him in the morning hours of November 13th. Our wolfhounds knew, as three different times after midnight, they emitted long mournful howlings that lasted 2-3 minutes. The spirits were there. They had come in peace and gently took his left hand in love, as his right hand was over his heart 💓. RIP, you beautiful man. Y'still got my love, *here and now*.... as our guy, Luther, would say…