I had spent the last evening with Eric and some how still clung to the silly hope that this last agonizing bought would pass and he could beat the big C, at least for a little while longer, maybe make it to springs first flowers, just a month away. His colon was blocked and stones born from the chemo were killing his kidneys. He was drifting in and out of consciousnesses. The dope wasn’t working and his pain was stabbing its way through the Delauded. He managed some how to sit up in his bed. He turned to me slowly with his eyes deeply gazed .The depths of exhaustion from his second to second battle hung on this face like great slabs of dead flesh on brittle bones. With lids so heavy and eyes only half opened, he looked me in the eye and said “Mike, I don’t think that I can make my way though this any more”. I put my arm around him and assured him that he could. I told him that there were better moments around the corner. I told him that if he could get himself through this bit that we’d stroll out of this fucking place and grab a frank at Crif Dogs. Then I began to crumble. Tears came streaming and I began apologizing involuntarily. I could clearly hear myself telling him how sorry I was. Those being the last words that I would have chosen to express in front of him but, some how those words were coming out of my mouth inexplicably. My words and my thoughts were beyond my control. Suddenly he looked genuinely pissed off with me for the first time in our knowing each other. He fell slowly back on his pillow and demanded that I don’t punk out on him. His eyes seemed to clear for a brief moment as though he were unencumbered by his ailment. He raised his hand and pointed at me and said “You are magnificent! Don’t you ever forget that! His eyes slowly closed and he drifted off into a moaning half sleep. Those were the last real words that I ever heard him speak.
