It isn’t enough but what follows is Ken’s real obituary.

Much love ….

Ken Zuroski, 56, died on March 27, 2017, after a fierce, year-long battle against a rare and aggressive form of colon cancer. He was preceded in death by his parents and a beloved niece. In addition to dear siblings, friends, nephews and nieces, and other relatives, he is survived by his wife of 25 years, Deborah Ainsworth Zuroski, and by his three children, Tristan (21), Haley (18) and Ian (11).

Writer, rhetorician, photographer, artist, teacher, X-ray technician, marksman, cook, husband, father, brother, cousin, friend … there isn’t a label or a job title that effectively describes Ken. His interests were broad but also deep and his love for friends and family was infinite.

Ken’s appreciation for classical music began in the early ’90s and ultimately resulted in him spending years searching for the best recordings of 100 important classical pieces. The “Classical Music Project” caused him to seek the rare/hard-to-find recordings from libraries and music stores across the country but was a true labor of love, allowing him to share his passion with anyone interested in learning about classical music. He finished putting the compilation together just a few months before he began his cancer battle.

An intensely private man, Ken was also a deeply caring friend whose relationships — online and offline — lasted decades and spanned the globe. He traveled across the US to connect with friends he first met online and deeply mourned the passing of friends he never met in person.

Well-known for his ability to make people laugh, he was never prouder than when his children (and his wife) surprised a laugh out of him. His sense of humor ran to the corny (Why don’t cannibals eat clowns? Because they taste funny.), the absurd (aluminum foil bow ties), and the outrageous (there are many stories but they can’t be shared here!).

He loved a good riddle or puzzle and would spent weeks figuring out the answer. Many years ago, a friend unnamed here but much loved, posed a riddle that Ken literally pondered over for more than a year: two words, homophones, opposite meanings, one 5 letters long, the other 6 letters long. Of course he figured out the answer and was never prouder than when his eldest did the same.

Before he married, Ken traveled across the country with friends twice. Later, when his children were young, he took the family on trips to the state fairs in Wisconsin and Iowa, Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, the Finger Lakes in New York, and the National Seashore in Texas, among many others. The family loved camping and accumulated many wonderful stories, from drying out after torrential downpours to bundling up in August cold spells, from starting campfires with Doritos to fierce games of miniature golf (sometimes in a thunderstorm).

Poppy the Pitbull was Ken’s loyal companion on many long walks through the woods. His youngest son was their frequent walking buddy. They would hike for hours, exploring Pittsburgh’s Frick Park and finally returning home, exhausted and muddy, for the inevitable tick-hunt.

Toward the end, Ken wanted nothing so much as another walk in the woods with his son and their dog.  Unfortunately, the illness would not allow him that. He died peacefully with his wife and children by his side.