The end

I called an old friend earlier today, a man I worked with years ago. I remember when we first met - at a conference - two caustic guys who immediately clicked. He's fifteen years my senior and a great guy. We worked together on various things and spent a lot of time together cutting up, and I've maintained contact once the company was no more. We talked about politics (more agreement as I age) and other people a bit before he laid it on me. The cancer is back with a vengeance - less than a year to live. I felt a stab of pain as he revealed the news. He has a wonderful wife and two daughters - and grandkids. He was calm as he spoke (not sure how I expected him to act) as he told me about a planned trip and a few other things he has always wanted to do. It was unusual because I found myself with nothing to say and he teased me. It is odd how those in pain or trouble often console those around them. As the conversation ended, the finality of it hit me as there is a good chance I shall never hear that voice again. He had something to say and proceeded to tell me to live with no regrets and follow whatever dreams - however crazy - I may possess, because in the end all the crazy shit we worry about just doesn't really matter. The final bit of advice was to make those phone calls, send those letters, and visit those people dear to us - regardless of the past. There was a strange silence before saying goodbye and ending the call.