Erosion

We had dinner with Carolyn's sister again tonight.  It's turning into a regular thing.  Dinner here on Saturday and there on Sunday.  There was a special treat this week - friends from Napa Valley were in town and joined us.  We left that beautiful place long ago, but Carolyn's sister and her husband stuck it out until 2006.  All three couples used to have dinner together back then and we've missed their company.  Tonight was like an old familiar chair.  Good friends are easy on the mind and body.

Rick and I had some time together while Richard was cooking and the wives were visiting.  We couldn't remember when we last saw each other but settled on seven years.  That's probably not right, but we both agree it's close enough, and that's all that matters between friends.  He's a little older than I, and the last several years have not been good ones for him at all.  He's had several bypass surgeries and eight stents placed since we last saw each other. 

He told me of watching his only daughter wither away and die from cancer.  A divorcee, she chose to live  with him for the last several months of her life.  One of her favorite places on this earth was his back yard patio.  On her last morning, she asked to go outside so he carried her there.  An hour or so later, as he was fixing her something to drink, he looked out the window and watched as she took her last breath. 

That happened over five years ago, but some left over tears came to his eyes as he finished telling me about it.  He told me he knew I would understand the pain of watching a loved one grow steadily weaker, until there just was no more, and said he talked to me of his loss because there are not many who do.  He was right.  I could feel the pressure building in the outer corners of my eyes as I listened to this old friend. 

When we hung out together, Rick was an outgoing, easygoing, and rather boisterous guy. If a firecracker went off under your bed shortly after you fell asleep, Rick most likely had something to do with it.  He loved to joke, play golf, and could shoot a mean game of pool.  He was a very capable manager, with over 350 souls reporting to him on the last day of his career.  He was good at all he did, and most everyone who knew him enjoyed his company. 

Today, Rick is more subdued.  Life, which has been so good to him, had finally come to collect the bills that are usually presented earlier on.  You see, Rick had loved, lived and given himself to others.  Had he been someone who stayed to himself, who only minded his business and had not loved, but instead had been a loner, there would have been no payment due.  The loss of a daughter could not have happened - she never would have been.  With no loved ones, and no love of life to keep him here, the first heart attack may have taken him.  People with no reason to stay seldom do. 

If we were to meet for the first time today, I would be cordial, but would not go out of my way to befriend him.  It's hard for me to say that, but if I were to honestly look into a mirror, I'd have to say the same of myself.  Time and gravity does that to folks.  Both things combine to wear people down.  Once, many, many, years ago a good buddy sent me a sorta Latin saying, "Nil Carborundum Illigitimi,"  along with the translation,  "Don't let the Bastards wear you down."  Well, the Bastards don't have to wear you down.  Time and gravity will do that without any help.

The challenge, I believe, is to not care about the power of these two forces.  But, it's really hard to watch a loved one die slowly.  And it's even harder to not let it wear you down.