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Unfortunately, after high school he and I lost contact. He went off to college, I did my thing. We haven't had contact for 18 years.
A few months back, I was told he wanted to speak to me, so he was given my number and called me. He informed me that he was ill. I'd heard from friends and family of mine (he'd spoken to them previously because he didn't have my contact info) that he was diagnosed with some form of cancer, and didn't have a lot of time left. He referred to himself as "being sick". We reminisced for a bit, talked of good times we had, etc. and had a very pleasant conversation.
Well, tonight (September 30, 2013) he calls me. He tells me that the doctors basically said he has about two months left to live. He's on a lot of painkillers right now, and has lost a lot of weight. He's 37 years old, with a wife and pre-teen daughter.
He lives about an hour or so away from me.
So with a very, very heavy heart, I'm going to schedule one last jam session with him before the Lord calls him home. Hopefully I can do it this weekend or next weekend, but I don't want to stretch it beyond that, as I don't want to take any chances. We're going to be playing some country music. Just me, him, a couple of guitars, and a microphone.
I've already gotten the OK from him to bring my 4-track recorder and roll some tape, so we're gonna do that as well. It's really gonna tear me up when I leave his house that day. Though I guess I could rejoice in the fact I spent it with a friend and hopefully brought a little happiness and joy to his life.
I'm going to feel really terrible if I miss this opportunity.
A few months back, I was told he wanted to speak to me, so he was given my number and called me. He informed me that he was ill. I'd heard from friends and family of mine (he'd spoken to them previously because he didn't have my contact info) that he was diagnosed with some form of cancer, and didn't have a lot of time left. He referred to himself as "being sick". We reminisced for a bit, talked of good times we had, etc. and had a very pleasant conversation.
Well, tonight (September 30, 2013) he calls me. He tells me that the doctors basically said he has about two months left to live. He's on a lot of painkillers right now, and has lost a lot of weight. He's 37 years old, with a wife and pre-teen daughter.
He lives about an hour or so away from me.
So with a very, very heavy heart, I'm going to schedule one last jam session with him before the Lord calls him home. Hopefully I can do it this weekend or next weekend, but I don't want to stretch it beyond that, as I don't want to take any chances. We're going to be playing some country music. Just me, him, a couple of guitars, and a microphone.
I've already gotten the OK from him to bring my 4-track recorder and roll some tape, so we're gonna do that as well. It's really gonna tear me up when I leave his house that day. Though I guess I could rejoice in the fact I spent it with a friend and hopefully brought a little happiness and joy to his life.
I'm going to feel really terrible if I miss this opportunity.
He is my Black Dragon (and yes, a good one) strong, protective, the guardian. I am his Silver Dragon, always by his side, shining for him, cherishing him.
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