“I still think you should have bought the Jag.” Dam few friends these days to lose any more, especially ones that were so important. Memories flooded me, the times we had shared, and a sense of what this man meant to me as my friend. There was a moment pause where we just looked at each other.
“Sorry, the morphine is still kicking in. His smile ended in a slight grimace and a spasmodic cough. I can’t talk her out of dumping her fiancée and running off with me to Tahiti.” “You see that hot nurse out there? Too bad she’s taken. He said in a strained voice, barely above a whisper.Ī small mischievous smile crept across his face. “Hey! I have been waiting for you slacker.” I bantered as I sat down in the chair closest to the bed. Not just pale, but worn, almost translucent.
He looked gaunt and tired, his hair was uncombed and he had a pale look to him. I knocked at the door and entered, pulling the linen drapes aside I saw that he was lying in one of those high end hospital beds, a bright red blanket up to his chest and an IV drip was attached to his left hand. It had been a long year and Vance, my friend since college, had struggled with and will finally succumb to, the cancer that he was diagnosed with last Christmas. I knew that he was dying and the summons I received from his sister meant that the end was near. The hospice hallway was dimmed and there was lingering smell of bleach as I walked down towards Vance’s room.