Well, I didn't get over to see Tim in his final days.
I found out too late, his death too soon. There are no words to descibe how his passing has shaken me to the bone. I've been trying to cope with it by saying he is in a better place, pain free, and with his loving God.
But it is our loss, our memories, our pain that will remain. Tim wasn't just a co-worker, friend, son, brother or some other appellate that we attach to special people, he was a guiding spirit on how to live. His strength and courage was matched with an enlightenment on how to deal with the scourge of cancer, how to deal with precarious hope and how to conquer demons that
hunt you from inside.
Never a discouraging word, never a bad day and never letting your destiny get in the way of a good time. In his remaining years, Tim did probably more than he should have. He saw the tower in Paris, he visited a concentration camp in Germany, his saw Stonehenge he even was part of my wedding in Pittsburgh. Indomitable will.
I have two photos that Tim took at my wedding hanging in my living room. They are works of art.
He used to drive me nuts. I would be telling a story, such as, "One time at band camp...I was playing a horn that looks like, oh you know, like..." He would jump in and say, "I don't know, it's your story!" Always sharp, always funny.
So the next time you're beaten down by the mundanities of life, think of Tim, our friendly, funny man who almost conquered cancer...by smiling.
A special "Thank you" to Lisa and Frank for taking care of our dear friend in his most intimate moments.
Daniel Rush |
