Yeah, right, just shopping.  Sure, we all do it; we look around for a better doctor when we have a major problem that’s not acutely critical; it’s wise to get a second opinion.

But asking doctors who specialize in ENT to prescribe opioids for a recurring back pain problem?

That’s NOT shopping.  And saying it is might be a gross misrepresentation.

9:50:01 PM    comment []

He was a man’s man, the kind of guy who didn’t mind well-earned sweat, who tackled chores and sports with the gusto of a man who expected the ache of muscles as a normal part of life.  He liked a cold one at the end of a hot summer’s day, whether after chores or after a round of golf.  One might find him guilty of pride in his own efforts, but it was honestly deserved.

He didn’t stand on formalities, didn’t let them get in the way of living.  During one humorous and heated discussion at a local family restaurant, he made it clear that to him it was senseless to worry about the appropriateness of licking the butter knife.  It just wasn’t that important in the way he lived his life, all those little vagaries and fripperies of social behavior.

He was right.  In the big picture, all that stuff is bullshit.  He let none of that get in the way of embracing his life, even if he did try not to offend others in the process.  There was nothing wishy-washy about him; it was all or nothing, it was a full commitment or simply not.  Half-heartedness was simply not an option.

From time to time, he might think about pulling something sly; it’d be worth the grin to mull it over.  But he was highly predictable, a straight arrow in spite of the laughs he got from temptation.  You knew exactly where they stood with him; if he closed down, if his jaw got tight, you knew the ice was thin with him.  If he shared one of those squinty-eyed smiles with the flash of the teeth, you were fine and probably about to share in one of his ready wise cracks.  He appreciated those who were equally upfront with him, enjoyed his work most when everyone was straight shooting and in alignment with the greater good, the greater effort.

He loved his wife, was so very proud of her; he knew she was heads above him and most people in intellect and compassion, and he admired her for it.  It showed.  He loved his daughter, who looked just like him and did much to emulate her father as a small child; he was pleased that she acquired the same attributes of intellect and compassion as his wife, melded with his sense of humor and earnestness.  He was just damned proud of them both.

He was an avid hunter and fisherman; pre-dawn hours, damp cold, baking heat, the onset of night did not deter him from being out there, in nature.  He excelled in these and in sports in no small part because they are zen-like; they require one to be present, here and now, in this moment, to be effective.

It was in this state -- being in the here and now -- that he left.  The rapidity of departure leaves us breathless, stunned; one never expects a person who is so very much in the present to depart so quickly, simply not be here and now.  There is a resonance though; his leaving is very much in the same way that he lived.  He was here; he is gone.  No halfway, no lingering, no vacillating on his exit; no long, dragged-out tortuous taking of leave.  Those of us who’ve known him would suspect he’d find such lengthy good-byes to be bullshit, too.

And yet, he is still very much here and now, and always will be; he is in our thoughts, our words, our actions, and in our prayers.  He is here and now, earnest, honest, in our happy memories of him.

10:19:55 AM    comment []