Here we go again
A week ago tonight a great man died in his sleep. I knew him and spent much time listening to his stories. He was always positive and spoke as though he was reading a poem.
His last words were “we go forward with heads held high and the light of the sun shinning on our faces. Good night.” I know this because he spoke to his oldest friend on the phone before going to his eternal sleep.
At his funeral it was strange (to me) that only the men were crying. Tough men - men who lived hard lives. I cried because I am selfish. In my heart and my head I know he was ready to leave the stage. Even so, I was not ready for the show to end.
Death has become a long distance friend of mine. I know death fairly well. I see death from time to time. But death never stops by my house for a glass of wine and conversation. Death may be avoiding me because I have some things I would to discuss with him. You see we disagree on the choices he has made.