End of the road for an old friend.

Builders;

Saturday night started off normal , but it proved to be the beginning of the end. We were having a good time together,  but as he had done countless times over the years he started grumbling about midnight, spoiling for a fight. I hoped it would pass, but he wouldn’t calm down. Very late at night it came to a boil, and at 5:30 Sunday morning, Paul Salter drove us both to the Emergency Room.

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The monitor in my room at Baptist South in Jacksonville.

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Let me explain, so you understand there were a lot of good years also. We had been friends for as long as I could remember. We went everywhere together.We never had a single argument until we were in a wreck 15 years ago.

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After the wreck is when he got weird about stuff. He would start pointless arguments over the most petty things, as stupid as what we ate for dinner. Sunday wasn’t our first blow up; over the years we ended up in the hospital or clinic several times. He was tough, and strong enough that he won most of our bouts.

People were really surprised when I still kept him after the stunt he pulled in 2002. I was getting a medical from my AME, and the Doc asked my buddy a question about me that everyone knows to fib about, and the bastard went right ahead and answered it like he had never told a lie in his life. That ‘stunt’ caused me to loose my medical for several years.

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Everyone else told me to cut him off, but I didn’t. We had been together so long, and frankly I understood that he had lived his whole life in a very dark place. As time went by, other friends grew more callous to him, they would say things right in front of him, like he “servered no useful purpose ” and that I could live without him. That was really the issue. When the said this I quietly thought to myself than he wouldn’t last long without me. Wether he admitted it or not, I had been pretty much carrying him for years.

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This morning the surgeon came into my room. I knew it was bad news because he sat next to me and held my hand. He explained that it was over. When they opened him up there was nothing they could do.  He urged me to think about the early good years, and not to dwell on the battles. He said that it was admirable how long I had stuck by him, he explained that a lot of his kind don’t even make it to 53 these days. His words brought some solace, but in the end, I sure am going to miss my gall bladder.

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WW.

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