Columns

The fisherman’s journey back to the sea

Tim Kelly

I’d never before been in the room the moment someone dies.

It’s not something I’ll ever forget. Nor will the memory ever fade of the man who, surrounded by his grown children and two sons-in-law, one of whom is me, breathed his last in a Stony Brook cardiac intensive care room on Saturday, March 27.

Reaching age 86, Martin Skarka surely wasn’t cheated out of his time, not that such longevity takes the pain out of his passing. For a family that lost its Mom prematurely 18 years ago and for their kids who no longer have grandparents to visit, Marty’s death is especially wrenching. As the kind of guy who jokes at funerals