Last month I wrote obituaries for three close friends, a fourth died the same week as the other three, all unrelated.
Just got word another ridiculously close friend lost the battle with lung cancer just now. He was an incredible college athlete in football, basketball, and baseball; a commercial fisherman for over thirty years; raised three incredibly self-reliant kids (including my favorite “friends’ kid”); and simply exuded competence.
He retired to Molokai just a couple years ago and got to enjoy too little of it.
He said he did not understand playing with fish… he liked to catch them by the ton… and usually did…
I may not feel any better in the morning…
Being my friend has a poor track record lately… I might suggest another tack.
art
I am sorry for your multiple losses over the past couple of months. As John suggested, two or three losses are bad enough … but five can simply complicate things on your end. It’s my opinion we can ask a lot of deep questions during seasons of loss and not find many (any?) answers that truly satisfy. What I will offer is this … I suspect all of your friends considered it an honor to be called “friend” by you. Hang in there and go catch a ton of fish in their honor. Greg
You are so right. My freshman year college roommate was killed in a helicopter crash 15 years ago this past Feb. Earlier this week I was telling someone about us cutting doughnuts in his granddad’s 54 Bel Air and bending the rim on a tire sliding curb. I was an incoming freshman and he a 3rd year sophomore when we met, if the Lord had let me write how the story went, he would still be around and his daughter would be my daughter in law.
Art,
someone I enjoyed immensely once said" A friend will come visit you in jail. A good friend will help you hide the body "
sounds like you lost some good friends. You have my condolences.
Best,
Steve
Thanks to all… It is still bothering me. My wife is en route to Molokai right now for the service and to visit.
On Kodiak Island in the fall of '93 Billy and I sat on a ridge watching a huge buck go up the next ridge and Boomer Esiason had just been cut because he was “…an aging quarterback with declining skills…”
“We should go get him!” says I.
“Yeah, we should” says Billy.
Neither of us moved…
“We really should” I repeat…
Neither of us moved…
“Face it, we’re just a coupla old hunters with declining skills…”
Billy had quarterbacked for UConn and was their best pitcher, and played first base (Leftie like Boomer) when he did not pitch, and always batted clean-up… He was a real athlete. Flat feet eliminated any pro interest…