saying it all

Day 5

I was doing fine without tissues. Until I received messages from two high school classmates of Rich's who, on Saturday, celebrated their 40th Reunion. Rich was looking forward to being with them but, as one said, he held on, to be with them as best as he could.

From one:

Many times I mentioned him to friends and co-workers, and I was like 'hey, I know this guy Richard Galik and he's the most brilliant person I ever met, and probably the most brilliant person that ever lived, and I went to school with him and he was in my class, and I graduated with him...'

And from another:

He was definitely the smartest guy I ever met. Even better than that though, he was even a nicer guy than he was smart. That says it all.

I can imagine Rich half-smiling and rolling his eyes at reading these praises, and then telling me stories about what he admired in their lives. What Rich had was a rare quality of not making more of himself than he was, but also not less. And that is how he treated everyone.

Which is good to remember, because in the last years, and especially months, Rich's tumor uncovered pieces of himself which he could not control, and even then he was more concerned how his physical implosion and sadness and anger were eroding my life.

I would apologize, sometimes, to the Hospice staff.

This is not who he is, I would say. He is the sweetest guy, always.

And they said of course, they knew that.

But I need to apologize, too. For those I hurt who, I guessed -- only a guess, I can never be certain -- were hurting him. For those I hurt on these pages. For those who hurt others because I hurt them.

Today I will visit Rich in the meadow, as is my habit, my joy, and my sadness.

Candace