The last time I talked to Dave was on the phone.

When he finally called me back he told me about his hospital stay, about the nurses, the food, the Doctors, the medications, the weather.

” It’s all that smoke in the air, ” he explained as his reason for being in the hospital, maintaining that smoke from California and Colorado wildfires had attacked his breathing, but he was doing fine and when was I coming up for a visit.

My next phone call to Dave was never returned.

Dave’s ex called and gave me bad news.

” Dave, ” she told me,  ” passed away.”

The bad news about Dave is still bad, weeks later.

What I hold to are memories. I have photos from a Mazatlan trip Dave and my brother Alan and I took, as well as several trips to  Padre Island, Texas. Dave hates Texas and told me often about his last drive out of Texas pulling his Air stream with the Mad KGB Russian Vera telling him, all the way, that he was ” Crazy. ” 

” There won’t be a church service, ” Kathy told me, ” but we will have a get together. ”

For those of us left behind, not forgetting Dave is the sweetest thing we can do.

Final goodbye’s are way too final.





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