The Death Thread
 

Yes, I know. We have the Dead Pool. We have the famous dead celebrities threads. I'm sure there's more that evade me. What we don't have is a thread devoted to the deaths of people we were close to; a thread devoted to mourning and reminiscence.

I'm sure that I must often seem morbid to many of my fellow Dwellars; I must seem to be overly fixated on the passing of people who meant something to me, and that probably seems depressive or unhealthy to at least some of you.

I see it as the exact opposite. In memorializing or reminiscing, I feel that I am working out the inner demons that might otherwise consume me. I feel as though I am extending, if not the actual presence of an individual on this plane, the energy of that person... the essence of them, the fabric of their souls, so to speak.

It is in that sense that I wish to speak briefly on the passing of my friend Jamie McKim, aka Puck, a 40 year old sprite of a guy who never failed to bring a smile, a sense of welcoming and good humor, a true sense of love and acceptance everywhere he went. I will never forget the first time I met him at the 30th birthday party of a mutual friend. Being a Pagan function, there was much ribald game playing using things that could only be described as phallic, and with bodily positions and rules that would cause most upright Baptists to change the channel if they saw it on TV, despite the fully clothed status of the participants.

Jamie threw in with the best of them that night, being not only the most perverse of all of us there, but the least pottentially threatening as well. That's a delicate balance for most. For Jamie, it was absolutely effortless. He had no guile. Five minutes in his presence, and I knew I had a new lifelong friend.

Jamie never met a stranger in his life. I cannot recall ever hearing a single bad thing said by him about another person, nor do I recall ever having known of a serious disagreement between him and another person.

Jamie suffered from Type I diabetes his entire life. It could be said that he probably did not treat this condition with the seriousness that it deserved at all times, and as a result, his health became increasingly unmanageable over the past decade. The past two years saw him hospitalized some five or six times, the last one with him in a coma for several days. But he always pulled through, and came back to his community, seemingly none the worse for wear.

Friday night, that string of comebacks ended, and Puck died in his sleep, just a little bit past the age of 40. He leaves behind no children, but he does leave his life partner Kathy without her mate, and his community without one of it's beacons of joy and light.

RIP my brother. You will be so very, very much missed.

Sorry for your loss. 40 is very young. I should know. I'm 40.

My friend Bill Parker died a few years ago. We worked together and I always thought he was healthier than me. He was certainly in better shape than me.

He was the coach of his church basketball team, he also built and supported their computer lab, and ran their electronic sign. He is one of very few people I've ever known whom literally everyone who met him liked him. I've always envied that about him because most people feel the opposite way about me.... at least online.

I used to warn him a lot about putting his meat where he makes his bread. He loved dating the women at work, including those in the HR department which is dangerous. I remember when I was taken to the hospital from work with chest pains and I found out I had high blood pressure. Bill also had high blood pressure, but he was having sex with a few different women and the pills diminished his ability to perform well so he stopped taking them.

There were about 2,000 people at his funeral. He had 14 different pastors from other churches speak for him, and they had choir music, dancing, and even soul food after the funeral was over. I also spoke at his funeral and it was pretty frightening going on after 14 professional orators, but I did pretty well. Bill would have liked what I had to say.

He was only 42 when he died. Things were never the same after that. The job seemed less fun, and more like work. A lot of women were crying for weeks at the job. Bill's mom asked me to come to her house and clean out Bill's room because she said she'd never be able to throw anything of his away. It was an all day job. Bill was a pack rat.

I think about him from time to time and I miss him.

My condolences to you, Kathy, and his friends, Elspode.

Man, sorry to hear it. RIP.

Very nice sentiments gentlemen. Spode, I think you're right about working out any demons. It makes perfect sense.

Most of the people I know who play bridge are old. I am old. Five players have died this summer and one is terminal. My daughter says I need to get acquainted with younger people. While I was not close friends with any of those I've referred to, I knew them fairly well. Betty, Judy, Sharon, Lolita, Elaine.

My neighbor, Joe, died, too, but, he didn't play bridge. He had ALS and was only 65. He's been gone about a month and was doing fairly well until 2 months before dying, then he began falling because his legs would just fold up. Then, he couldn't stand up and then he was gone. I'll miss him, but, not his habit of getting on his riding mower at 7 AM and mowing for an hour. )))))))