My friend Mel passed away last night after suffering for quite awhile but he finally accepted the fact and was tired of fighting and hurting. He said his goodbyes to his family and friends and died in his bed as he had planned. He refused to die in the hospital. He had his time alone with his wife and told her that his greatest regret was that he would not be around to take care of her, as she had done for him.
"Please take care of Carol" he asked of us, as he knew we would. In the last few days he struggled with the pain that only morphine could ease but up until the end he was sharp and tried to make us all smile, cracking little jokes.
I held his hand as he tried as hard as he could to squeeze mine but any strength he had was gone. I cried as we talked about all the good times we had together especially fishing which was the one thing he loved to do more than anything. I cannot count the times when he laid his pole down to bait my hook until the day he said, "Grow up, the worm or minnow won't feel a thing, bait it yourself" and I did.
We spoke of the great times we had fishing in Canada, going on cruises, vacationing in Las Vegas or the Ozarks and remembering all the good, no, the great times we shared together with our wives and friends.
Mel meant a lot to many people and the memory of who he was will not be forgotten. He was a mensch in the truest way. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you. He left us too soon and it pisses me off but he's out of pain and resting in peace.
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