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Last week, I posted a thread about my friend Richard and his battle with cancer. His doctor had just recommended that he think about checking into a hospice. I posted the thread on Friday. Thank everyone for their kind thoughts and words.
Richard was transported to the hospital on Saturday morning at about 5:30am. He could no longer breathe easy, and he couldn't recognize anyone. My sister, who was his girlfriend and roommate, could no long care for him.
By the time I got to the hospital on Saturday afternoon, the Richard I knew was no longer there. I held his hand and kissed him on the lips. He didn't know I was there.
Saturday night, some of Richard's closest friends gathered at my sister's house, and took turns going to the hospital to sit with him. 20 people spent the night in her two bedroom house. The living room looked like a homeless shelter, with its sleeping bags, blankets, and cots.
Sunday morning, I had to get up early to walk Richard's dog. I decided to go to the hospital to spend a few minutes alone with my friend Rich. His condition had deteriorated. He had a PA at his bedside. His respiration consisted of a snore (inhale), and a moan (exhale). His eyes were wide open.
Later that morning, my sister, Richard's brother and sister-in-law (who will take his place in our social circle, by decree) were called to the hospital to take care of transferring him to a local hospice. While they were there, Richard expired. True to his form, he chose a moment when they were all out of the room to check out. I'm sure that even though his body was incoherent, his mind was still there behind his ears. They all got to speak with him privately, one at a time. My sister, after begging him to stop being so strong, reminded him that I had told him to get a TEE TIME on the other side. She said he smiled (I'm sure she said that for my benefit). They were called away to take care of paperwork, and when they returned, Richard was gone. This is the first time I've felt able to talk about it with you without breaking down. I stayed with my sister, her son (my nephew), Richard's brother and his wife and kids until yesterday morning.
So here we are, minus one fine friend. He's being cremated tomorrow. It's going to be a bittersweet day for me. I'm glad he's no longer suffering, but MAD AS HELL at his passing. No one should die at 46, especially one who brought his friends and acquaintences so much joy and mirth.
We're going to take his ashes and those of his father out to sea soon. We're chartering a boat. Before that though, we're going to have a memorial party in the fashion Richard requested. He'll be in his container on the fence and we'll toast him. His container will be a Cabo Wabo tequila bottle (unbeknownst to him), his favorite brand. He was a Sammy Hagar fanatic and that's Sammy's signature brand of tequila. There must be seventy five empty Cabo Wabo bottles in his garage as ornamentation and proof of his dedication to tequila, and Sammy.
When the date is firm, I'm going to post it here. I hope you'll all join me in toasting a very fine man.
I love you Richard. Always have, always will. Oh yeah, I'm driving the golf cart when I join you on the other side, cuz your driving always sucked.
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