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Monday, June 16, 2014

George - Goodbye

                                                   Letter to a missing friend.

Dear George.
We hang our heads in sorrow.
Tears flow freely at the news of your passing. Followed by disbelief.
There will be an empty space in our lives where you once stood with the rest of our group.
Though we hadn't been acquainted for more than a couple of years, I though of you as a friend.
I look back over the bus trips you were able to take when you were able to travel. Days when you didn't have to be at the hospital on Dialysis for hours.
I will remember the time when everyone asked, “George. Have you got your leg on,” at the end of a trip. The way you laughed not taking offence of the suggestion. Or thought we made fun of you when we did mention your prosthesis.
Remember our last big trip to the Sunshine Coast over Easter. The way those were able helped those not so agile of foot. Slowed by illness. Pain. Impediments which were taken into consideration of those not so fit. Luckily. There was a lift at the units where we all spent the nights.
The first full day of the trip spent at the Big Pineapple markets, and touring the zoo. Our trip on the small train to take us down to see all the animals.
Driving through the countryside on our way back to the units. We travelled up steep hills. Travelled along the coastal strip to look at the beaches.
The two boat cruises where we had been shown all the expensive houses, and yachts, along the water ways. Told of who lived in some of the mansions. Travelled along many canals while eating the seafood lunch. Snapping photos of places you'll never get to visit again.
Remember the morning we woke to solve the puzzled you'd caused during the night with the loss of your walking stick. How were we to retrieve it from behind a four foot high glass partition. You having dropped it from the balcony during your sleepless hours. No one occupied the unit. The office staff were unavailable to open the door to give us access. None of us were capable of throwing our aging, damaged bodies, over the partition without breaking our bones. No teenagers were around to climb the wall.
Oh. Wow. I walked out the unit door and there he came out of the lift. Just what we needed. A muscular, fit, young guy. Without stopping to think I accosted him. With foot-in-mouth, I explained our predicament. The very helpful gentleman scaled the wall to retrieve the walking stick. He handed it up to George standing on the balcony above. We all thanked him for his assistance before he took off for the swimming pool.
People stared staring when the bus drew up to the hospital entrance to drop you off for your treatment.
We say our good-bye to a dear friend who now rests at peace.
Farewell to thee. George.

This is George at tea in one of the units on our Easter trip. A few weeks later, George died. He wasn't too well at times while we were away. We dropped him at the hospital on the afternoon we arrived home to have his dialysis done. Another seven hours would pass before he went home to his flat. At least, he enjoyed the time he had left.

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