(no subject)
I'm going to a memorial service tomorrow.
I grew up with a pretty huge extended family based on the hospital that my dad practiced in. There was a cadre of other doctors at the hospital who were roughly my dad's age, and they all became close friends. The person I consider to be my godfather is one of them; he's an infectious disease doctor. The Nicaraguan nephrologist, Dr. Barcanas, had three children who more or less our age. There was a cardiologist, Dr. Hogan, with four children who were more or less our age. And then there was Dr. Dear.
Dr. Dear was slightly older--five years, now that I'm looking at his obituary--than my father and the other doctors. He was a cardiologist also, and he was responsible for bringing cath labs to my father's hosptial. He had three kids who were a bit older than me and my siblings, though we got to know two of them rather well.
These families were all around me when I was growing up. We'd all go to each other's birthday parties. We've been to each other's weddings. We've gone on vacation together. And now, we're going to the funerals.
Dr. Dear retired about ten or so years ago, so we didn't see him as often as we do everyone else over the last few years. He and his wife had a ranch up near Dallas, and he moved up there full time when he retired. My parents would stop by the ranch, though, every time they drove to Taos. And they'd come down every year to stay the whole weekend of the Christmas Tree Cutting Party. There were always functions at the Texas Heart Institute, which Dr. Dear helped make great, that they'd come down to Houston for.
Dr. Dear and his partner Dr. Hogan, took care of my grandparents when they had various heart ailments. He also took care of my great-aunt until he retired. His were the hands that my father most trusted his family in. He was, my father always said, the brightest person he'd ever met.
One of the things I adore about Dr. Dear is that he was so different than we were. He was pretty conservative, socially and fiscally. I remember having dinner with him in the summer of 1993 in New Mexico, the day that Justice White retired from the Supreme Court. I was jubilant. Dr. Dear was depressed. When he retired and discovered the internet, he sent out various conservative missives and forwards to a huge e-mail list. My mom, who is probably further to the left than I am, got pretty good at figuring out through the subject line whether or not it was an e-mail that would make her mad. But, despite the massive political differences my mother considered him one of her dearest friends. I strongly believe he felt the same about her. Because of Dr. Dear, I know better to make assumptions about people because of only one aspect of their personality. Because of Dr. Dear, I understand that people are really complicated, and you have to take the good with the not so good. Because of Dr. Dear, I know fully that you can have a different belief system from someone and that doesn't make either one of you wrong.
He had a dry, terribly funny wit, and he was always amused by my family. He said he knew my father was brilliant because there was no other way that someone could be THAT ADD and still go through all the schooling my father had to go through. He'd regale the rest of us with stories about my father's antics when we weren't around to watch them. Claudia just adored him, and he thought she was pretty damned awesome, too.
Dr. Dear was was one of the few men I've ever known who could pull off wearing a full length fur coat. He won one in an auction once, and since his wife already had one, he had them make the coat for him instead. With a suit and his cowboy boots and a look on his face that dared you to think anything wrongly of him, you couldn't help but be impressed that he pulled it off without looking flamboyant or over-the-top, which of course he was.
In the same auction, he won Patton, a black labrador retriever who is Holden's spiritual, if not actual, antecedent. Claudia fell in love with Patton early into puppyhood, and when she decided to get Holden, she wanted a black male lab, just like Patton. She and Holden were invited over to the Dears' house for dinner so they could meet him when he was just a baby. Patton and their other lab, Fergie, weren't quite sure what they thought, but Dr. Dear wholeheartedly approved of Holden, even when he went through his rather tumultous puppy-, adolecent- and adult-hoods.
His Christmas cards always featured him, his wife and his animals, and they were a highlight of the Christmas season. Dr. Dear would also forward hundreds of e-mails to my mother about animals, dogs in particular. Funny or poignant or just plain cute. These were e-mails she opened without trepediation at all. The last line of his obituary lists the animals that were fortunate enough to share his life over the years. I can't imagine an afterlife if Patton wasn't there to greet Dr. Dear when he got to whereever it is that you go.
I got a call last week from my godfather. He was looking for my father, because Dr. Dear was in the hospital, and things weren't looking good. He'd been diagnosed in the last few years with a type of lukemeia, and he was having complications. He was fighting, though, and everyone thought there might be an outside chance. On Friday, I was at the hosptial cath labs that Dr. Dear had helped found. Dr. Dear's hand-picked successor was using the cath unit to insert a pacemaker into my own father's heart*, and I was waiting there with my mom. We got the news there that things had gotten worse, and the next day Dr. Wayne E. Dear died.
He was a great friend to my family, and we will miss him terribly.
*My father is fine. I didn't know until the procedure was happening that it was going to happen, but neither did anyone else. He was out of the hospital the next morning, and he's been raring to go ever since. This is a good thing, as it will get him off of a lot of medication that has been causing him problems. As far as he's concerned it wasn't a big deal and the hiking trip two week's hence is still on. With gusto. Lord help us all.
I grew up with a pretty huge extended family based on the hospital that my dad practiced in. There was a cadre of other doctors at the hospital who were roughly my dad's age, and they all became close friends. The person I consider to be my godfather is one of them; he's an infectious disease doctor. The Nicaraguan nephrologist, Dr. Barcanas, had three children who more or less our age. There was a cardiologist, Dr. Hogan, with four children who were more or less our age. And then there was Dr. Dear.
Dr. Dear was slightly older--five years, now that I'm looking at his obituary--than my father and the other doctors. He was a cardiologist also, and he was responsible for bringing cath labs to my father's hosptial. He had three kids who were a bit older than me and my siblings, though we got to know two of them rather well.
These families were all around me when I was growing up. We'd all go to each other's birthday parties. We've been to each other's weddings. We've gone on vacation together. And now, we're going to the funerals.
Dr. Dear retired about ten or so years ago, so we didn't see him as often as we do everyone else over the last few years. He and his wife had a ranch up near Dallas, and he moved up there full time when he retired. My parents would stop by the ranch, though, every time they drove to Taos. And they'd come down every year to stay the whole weekend of the Christmas Tree Cutting Party. There were always functions at the Texas Heart Institute, which Dr. Dear helped make great, that they'd come down to Houston for.
Dr. Dear and his partner Dr. Hogan, took care of my grandparents when they had various heart ailments. He also took care of my great-aunt until he retired. His were the hands that my father most trusted his family in. He was, my father always said, the brightest person he'd ever met.
One of the things I adore about Dr. Dear is that he was so different than we were. He was pretty conservative, socially and fiscally. I remember having dinner with him in the summer of 1993 in New Mexico, the day that Justice White retired from the Supreme Court. I was jubilant. Dr. Dear was depressed. When he retired and discovered the internet, he sent out various conservative missives and forwards to a huge e-mail list. My mom, who is probably further to the left than I am, got pretty good at figuring out through the subject line whether or not it was an e-mail that would make her mad. But, despite the massive political differences my mother considered him one of her dearest friends. I strongly believe he felt the same about her. Because of Dr. Dear, I know better to make assumptions about people because of only one aspect of their personality. Because of Dr. Dear, I understand that people are really complicated, and you have to take the good with the not so good. Because of Dr. Dear, I know fully that you can have a different belief system from someone and that doesn't make either one of you wrong.
He had a dry, terribly funny wit, and he was always amused by my family. He said he knew my father was brilliant because there was no other way that someone could be THAT ADD and still go through all the schooling my father had to go through. He'd regale the rest of us with stories about my father's antics when we weren't around to watch them. Claudia just adored him, and he thought she was pretty damned awesome, too.
Dr. Dear was was one of the few men I've ever known who could pull off wearing a full length fur coat. He won one in an auction once, and since his wife already had one, he had them make the coat for him instead. With a suit and his cowboy boots and a look on his face that dared you to think anything wrongly of him, you couldn't help but be impressed that he pulled it off without looking flamboyant or over-the-top, which of course he was.
In the same auction, he won Patton, a black labrador retriever who is Holden's spiritual, if not actual, antecedent. Claudia fell in love with Patton early into puppyhood, and when she decided to get Holden, she wanted a black male lab, just like Patton. She and Holden were invited over to the Dears' house for dinner so they could meet him when he was just a baby. Patton and their other lab, Fergie, weren't quite sure what they thought, but Dr. Dear wholeheartedly approved of Holden, even when he went through his rather tumultous puppy-, adolecent- and adult-hoods.
His Christmas cards always featured him, his wife and his animals, and they were a highlight of the Christmas season. Dr. Dear would also forward hundreds of e-mails to my mother about animals, dogs in particular. Funny or poignant or just plain cute. These were e-mails she opened without trepediation at all. The last line of his obituary lists the animals that were fortunate enough to share his life over the years. I can't imagine an afterlife if Patton wasn't there to greet Dr. Dear when he got to whereever it is that you go.
I got a call last week from my godfather. He was looking for my father, because Dr. Dear was in the hospital, and things weren't looking good. He'd been diagnosed in the last few years with a type of lukemeia, and he was having complications. He was fighting, though, and everyone thought there might be an outside chance. On Friday, I was at the hosptial cath labs that Dr. Dear had helped found. Dr. Dear's hand-picked successor was using the cath unit to insert a pacemaker into my own father's heart*, and I was waiting there with my mom. We got the news there that things had gotten worse, and the next day Dr. Wayne E. Dear died.
He was a great friend to my family, and we will miss him terribly.
*My father is fine. I didn't know until the procedure was happening that it was going to happen, but neither did anyone else. He was out of the hospital the next morning, and he's been raring to go ever since. This is a good thing, as it will get him off of a lot of medication that has been causing him problems. As far as he's concerned it wasn't a big deal and the hiking trip two week's hence is still on. With gusto. Lord help us all.