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Funeral For A Friend

Posted on January 20, 2006
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I don’t often do rants. But, as the intro says, rants are free of charge…

I lost a good friend last night. Ryan, affectionally known by his friends as Rybugg, passed in the night. He died of an acute pulmonary infection at the age of 54. He died with his wife of a few years by his side in the VA hospital at Ann Arbor, passing the veil in the midst of the night. He will be sorely missed by his loved ones…

I do not make friends easily. I am a Viet Nam vet, with all the trimmings, and have that good ol’ VN vet distrust of people. Ryan, a little man in stature but a big man in soul, took me to heart 16 years ago, and helped turn my life around. Eight years my junior, Ryan recognized in me the man I should be, not the man I was. He mentored me in many things, but taught me the true meaning of life in ways that only a lost soul would recognize.

I came to meet him by accident. My life was in disorder (an understatement!) at the time. I was strung out on drugs, had been injured in an industrial accident, and was poisoned by the many misfortunes that befall a man that has had his ass shot off in various ways, including sniper fire in the bush. He helped me to get that all back together..

He was no saint. He had “issues” as well as I did. But he listened. That, my friends, is the key to life. Listen. React. Do.

Ryan had always been sickly as long as I knew him. He was a vet himself, having served aboard the JFK in the south Pacific a number of years after my tour of duty. Seems like there was always something wrong with him..

He knew where I was coming from. An unusual thing in that time of my life. He nurtured me, helped me to try and understand the life of a civilian, and listened to my BS. He helped me integrate into society. He told me this - “kiss their ass today because you plan on kicking it tomorrow.” A good motto…

So I shall go to the place of burial for a man I thought of as friend. I will bow to him, say a Buddhist prayer for a good rebirth, and leave in the peace of knowing he rests. A little Scottish dude that was as screwed up as much or more than most folk. But a man I loved and cared for, and to my point of view, an unusual thing in this day and age of “me.” We talk about a guy that taught me to make good homemade bread…

I sit here tonight, happy that he has found peace and rest, and does not suffer. And I know that I will meet him again once this cycle of samsara is finished. We shared the Buddhist belief in some ways, in others not. But he’ll be back, and we shall once again be friends.

So this night, I tip a glass of Captain Morgan’s to him, wash it with a beer back, and contemplate a beautiful soul…

Peace,

Charlie~

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