At 3:28 am yesterday morning, my friend died. It sucked. He was a son, father, brother, husband and dear friend to many people. He was also a small business owner that had overcome some adversity to build a life for himself and his family. He was 40 years old.
20 years ago he made a mistake - a big one that resulted in a woman dying and him spending 6 years in prison. But let me assure you that he was no criminal. He was a good man with a huge heart that, like I said, made a very poor choice that cost another family greatly and cost him 6 years of what would eventually be a fairly short life. He struggled immensely with his past. I know that it haunted him frequently. And what scares me is that he never reconciled his past before moving on. If I had one wish to be granted today, it's that I could be assured that he found peace before dying. Because he should be proud of many things. He picked up the pieces, started a successful business, got married, fathered 2 amazing little girls (6 and 5 years old) and was a community-minded individual that gave back at every chance he got.
In late February, his family and mine were sleigh riding together. He mentioned that he was really laboring to breathe and said he "needed to get himself in better shape". He wasn't overweight at all. At 6'1, 190 lbs, he played tennis often and looked like a regular ol' guy at 40. He used to be a smoker but gave it up maybe a year or so ago. Still a drinker (and the irony of that was that drinking created his problems but was the only relief from those problems that he knew), but otherwise, he ate right and lived a normal lifestyle. Anyway, he went on for another couple weeks continuing to struggle with shortness of breath. Finally, his wife made him go to the doctor. He found out that day that his heart was functioning at only 30% and was admitted into the hospital.
About a week later, he was released. The doctors had put him on medication to strengthen his heart and with some cardio rehab and medication, he should be close to normal in about 3-6 months. But after being home for a week or so, he had to go back in the hospital. And things went downhill quickly. His heart was not responding to the meds at all and he almost died the day he went back in. They airlifted him later that evening to MCV in Richmond, VA where he would be for the next 8 weeks. I stayed in touch with his mom and she created a facebook page to follow the happenings and all of us on the outside were led to believe that he was improving. Granted, there were some significant procedures along the way - we're talking completely opening up his chest and inserting devices to help his heart function correctly. The plan was that this would help in the interim and that he would be on the list for a heart transplant. This news alone was pretty sobering - a man, my age was having to have a heart transplant all because he got a viral infection in his blood that, because it wasn't treated in a timely fashion, made its way to his heart and started to kill his heart.
For 7 weeks, he laid in a hospital bed. He didn't take a breath of fresh air outside the hospital for 7 weeks. They finally posted a picture on the facebook page of him in a wheelchair out in the sun in May. Again, those of us on the outside took this a step forward and a sign that our buddy was improving and would be back home shortly. And he was. He came home about 10 days ago. But by this time, we all knew the LVAD device had to be taken out because his blood was clotting it. But his mom's facebook posts were still very positive and hopeful. He supposedly was coming home because he needed to show that he could live with the meds for 6 months before getting the transplant.
3 days later, he was once again admitted back into the hospital...for the last time. I got the news on Monday when I was in Philly for work that things had gone south quickly and that he was fighting for his life. I wasn't scheduled to leave Philly until Wednesday at 2:00 pm on a train. I was so anxious. I had friends calling me and giving me updates because they were dropping by to see him. He was asking for me and I was 3 states away. All I wanted was to see him again. He made it through Monday and Tuesday night by the smallest of margins. At 3:00 pm on Wednesday, I'm on the train heading back to town when I get a message that they'd taken him off life support. The end was growing nigh. My train was to arrive back in town at 8:30 pm and it was indeed on time. I immediately rushed to the hospital. It was just family at this point but his mom allowed me to go in and spend some time with him. He was unresponsive but still alive. I held his hand and told him that he has a lot to be proud of. His wife assured me that even though he wasn't talking, he knew I was there and could hear me. I'm not sure that's true but I chose to believe her. It was a gruesome sight. This man, who only 4 months ago was a vibrant and active 40 year old man, was gasping for breaths every 10 seconds or so. F*cking brutal. I cried with his wife and sister for maybe 20 minutes and then said my final goodbyes.
We celebrated his life last night at his home with probably 100 folks. It was more laughter, story telling and fun than I expected. But through it all, I can't seem to get past his fighting those demons. We all make mistakes - some bigger than others. But in the end, shouldn't the kindness and love in one's heart be what we are all judged by? I pray that's how the big man upstairs sees it. And I pray that even if only instantly before finally taking his last breath, my friend realized it.
So it may sound cliche, but don't take one second of this life for granted. Tell those you love that you love them. Stop telling your kids to hurry up. Instead, draw them out, cherish and hold onto those moments like they are gold. You never know how much time you have. I've heard people say those things to me all my life. And I never really paid them any attention. I guess it takes someone close to you going too soon before you actually take it to heart. I know it's had a profound impact on me. And if nothing else, I hope my good friend is looking down on me and feels good about the new perspective I have gained.
Thanks for reading.
20 years ago he made a mistake - a big one that resulted in a woman dying and him spending 6 years in prison. But let me assure you that he was no criminal. He was a good man with a huge heart that, like I said, made a very poor choice that cost another family greatly and cost him 6 years of what would eventually be a fairly short life. He struggled immensely with his past. I know that it haunted him frequently. And what scares me is that he never reconciled his past before moving on. If I had one wish to be granted today, it's that I could be assured that he found peace before dying. Because he should be proud of many things. He picked up the pieces, started a successful business, got married, fathered 2 amazing little girls (6 and 5 years old) and was a community-minded individual that gave back at every chance he got.
In late February, his family and mine were sleigh riding together. He mentioned that he was really laboring to breathe and said he "needed to get himself in better shape". He wasn't overweight at all. At 6'1, 190 lbs, he played tennis often and looked like a regular ol' guy at 40. He used to be a smoker but gave it up maybe a year or so ago. Still a drinker (and the irony of that was that drinking created his problems but was the only relief from those problems that he knew), but otherwise, he ate right and lived a normal lifestyle. Anyway, he went on for another couple weeks continuing to struggle with shortness of breath. Finally, his wife made him go to the doctor. He found out that day that his heart was functioning at only 30% and was admitted into the hospital.
About a week later, he was released. The doctors had put him on medication to strengthen his heart and with some cardio rehab and medication, he should be close to normal in about 3-6 months. But after being home for a week or so, he had to go back in the hospital. And things went downhill quickly. His heart was not responding to the meds at all and he almost died the day he went back in. They airlifted him later that evening to MCV in Richmond, VA where he would be for the next 8 weeks. I stayed in touch with his mom and she created a facebook page to follow the happenings and all of us on the outside were led to believe that he was improving. Granted, there were some significant procedures along the way - we're talking completely opening up his chest and inserting devices to help his heart function correctly. The plan was that this would help in the interim and that he would be on the list for a heart transplant. This news alone was pretty sobering - a man, my age was having to have a heart transplant all because he got a viral infection in his blood that, because it wasn't treated in a timely fashion, made its way to his heart and started to kill his heart.
For 7 weeks, he laid in a hospital bed. He didn't take a breath of fresh air outside the hospital for 7 weeks. They finally posted a picture on the facebook page of him in a wheelchair out in the sun in May. Again, those of us on the outside took this a step forward and a sign that our buddy was improving and would be back home shortly. And he was. He came home about 10 days ago. But by this time, we all knew the LVAD device had to be taken out because his blood was clotting it. But his mom's facebook posts were still very positive and hopeful. He supposedly was coming home because he needed to show that he could live with the meds for 6 months before getting the transplant.
3 days later, he was once again admitted back into the hospital...for the last time. I got the news on Monday when I was in Philly for work that things had gone south quickly and that he was fighting for his life. I wasn't scheduled to leave Philly until Wednesday at 2:00 pm on a train. I was so anxious. I had friends calling me and giving me updates because they were dropping by to see him. He was asking for me and I was 3 states away. All I wanted was to see him again. He made it through Monday and Tuesday night by the smallest of margins. At 3:00 pm on Wednesday, I'm on the train heading back to town when I get a message that they'd taken him off life support. The end was growing nigh. My train was to arrive back in town at 8:30 pm and it was indeed on time. I immediately rushed to the hospital. It was just family at this point but his mom allowed me to go in and spend some time with him. He was unresponsive but still alive. I held his hand and told him that he has a lot to be proud of. His wife assured me that even though he wasn't talking, he knew I was there and could hear me. I'm not sure that's true but I chose to believe her. It was a gruesome sight. This man, who only 4 months ago was a vibrant and active 40 year old man, was gasping for breaths every 10 seconds or so. F*cking brutal. I cried with his wife and sister for maybe 20 minutes and then said my final goodbyes.
We celebrated his life last night at his home with probably 100 folks. It was more laughter, story telling and fun than I expected. But through it all, I can't seem to get past his fighting those demons. We all make mistakes - some bigger than others. But in the end, shouldn't the kindness and love in one's heart be what we are all judged by? I pray that's how the big man upstairs sees it. And I pray that even if only instantly before finally taking his last breath, my friend realized it.
So it may sound cliche, but don't take one second of this life for granted. Tell those you love that you love them. Stop telling your kids to hurry up. Instead, draw them out, cherish and hold onto those moments like they are gold. You never know how much time you have. I've heard people say those things to me all my life. And I never really paid them any attention. I guess it takes someone close to you going too soon before you actually take it to heart. I know it's had a profound impact on me. And if nothing else, I hope my good friend is looking down on me and feels good about the new perspective I have gained.
Thanks for reading.
