Death stinks. My old high school buddy Rick's mother died a couple days ago. She wasted away from cancer (leukemia, I think it actually was). We need to quit blowing each other to bits over oil and find a cure for all forms of cancer. This once vivacious woman wasted away. Rick called me last weekend and told me there was nothing they could do for her. I hope they at least made her comfortable in her final days. There are a million things people say at times like these, but none of them help. I am a richer person for having known Sue and her husband, Gib. They always treated me like their own son, and that meant a lot to me. Far more than they knew, I'm sure. I'm not an overly religious man, but I have said a prayer for Sue and Gib, who has lost his partner of fifty years. I admired them for the loved they seemed to have for each other. In truth, it was more like envy. I will always remember Sue and Gib sitting out under a tree at Wayside Station, chatting with Rick and I. I miss those old Wayside Station days. They were good times.
Rest In Peace, Sue. If there really is a Heaven, I know your at the front of the line.
Roger
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