He was a broken man who tried his best to do good. He made me laugh. He gave selflessly at times. I went with him to Vegas and drove a cross country trip with him during a huge turning point my life—we took the “cascenic” route, hitting every casino we could find all the way from Arizona to Virginia. He was a treasured part of our Siblings Cruise vacations.
His last few years here were marred with health issues, his trademark stubbornness, and a depression that resulted from the fallout of a major stroke. I longed to see him laugh—giggle, actually—the way he used to when something tickled him. I was sad when he left for the west coast, knowing I might not ever see him again.
I am grieving the man who gave me the down payment for my first car. The silent soul who said little but knew a lot. The friend who was kind to all, but close with only a few. He had far too many demons and far too little peace. I pray that Jesus saved him before he passed.