Death and a funeral

Last weekend my wife and I went to visit an elderly couple that's been friends of her family for several years. The husband, Fred, had been battling cancer for two years and it was finally catching up to him. He had been in the hospital over the weekend and when he left they put him in a hospice room.

By all accounts, he shouldn't have been alive this long. I think it was esophageal cancer. When he was diagnosed two years ago the doctors gave him 6 to 8 months. He went through chemo and radiation treatment, which seemed to make a big difference. But when he went in for a check up, the cancer was back -- and then some. It had spread into other parts of his body.

We saw him on Sunday. On Tuesday we got a call from my mother-in-law saying Fred was doing worse and likely wouldn't make it through the night. Wednesday we got a call that confirmed it -- he had died around 2 AM Wednesday morning. The next Sunday we went to the viewing.

It was very touching seeing both Fred and his wife Shirley while he was still alive. They seemed like such a nice, loving, couple. Fred knew what was going on, and reminded Shirley he wanted to be burried in his dartball shirt along with $1.25 in his pocket (the amount they put into "the pot").

Sure enough, when we saw him at the funeral the following week, we was laying there with his dartball shirt on instead of a suit or something. Several other men at the funeral, Fred's teammates, were also wearing their dartball shirts. It was quite a sight to see.

God bless you Fred and Shirley. I'm glad you were able to attend our wedding. I just wish I had had the time to get to know you better.


-- C.