We had a death in the facility, this morning, not unusual, given this is a nursing home- except that the death was that of a relatively young person (in his fifties). Deaths of younger people I know always lead me to ponder my own mortality. As it is, I had already labeled this year’s journal as Notes On My Way Out.
In some ways, Larry’s death was not a total surprise; he’s abused his system with drugs and alcohol since his teenage years. This abuse led to other felonies and prison time. However, the who I knew was a good person. He certainly didn’t seem to have any of the anger and callosity of a person who’d served hard time.
In another time and under other circumstances, (circumstances including age differences and sexuality) he’d have been a relationship possibility. He was on the burly side, with a tendency towards heavy. Not unattractive, but his persona was more More a comfortable than “sexy”. Besides, being a ridiculously thin person, myself, I’ve always liked a little meat on a man’s bones; nothing beats a little warm cuddle in the Chicago winters.
He had an easy laugh and just the right amount of sarcasm towards daily life, but a gentle way in dealing with others. He had patience and forbearance to lend. We might have proved to be a complementary union.
I did not mean for this to turn into a Craigslist entry. It is just that with all these positive qualities ensconced within him, it is difficult to understand the how he happened on the life-path he did. I hope that path was not empty of love.