Today is a bad day. Not because the stock market is down or because something bad has happened to me but because in the space of just two hours I received word that two long time friends had died. One from injuries sustained in a ski accident out west and one who collapsed on his morning exercise walk from a heart attack. In two hours, two guys I had known for well over thirty years and with whom I had some indelible memories were gone, just like that.
We live each day scarcely facing our mortality and while you might think older folk like me surely think about death more often, we don’t. Why would we, its not a fun subject. It is dark and cold and full of grief. And sudden death, unexpected death, violent death is always a shock. Even as senior adults we expect death to be the logical conclusion of a series of events. Cancer, then chemo and radiation, then remission, then reoccurrence, then a slow downhill slide to the end. Or Parkinson’s or a series of heart stints and bypasses followed by gradual congestive heart failure. Or dementia where the personality dies then the body eventually follows.
But that’s not what happened. My ski buddy was robust, not quite 60, wealthy and happily married with everything to live for. He was a great skier and he skied a lot. He had a house on the gulf coast and another in ski resort country. He had done well, so well they named the engineering college we graduated from after him. And yet in the blink of an eye he went from flying down a snow covered hill to literally a dead stop. A tiny mistake in planting the downhill ski, or a moment of looking across the hill instead of looking out in front of his line, I’ll never know. But he’s gone.
My other friend worked with me, for me actually, for a very long time. He was hilarious, always kidding and usually happy. He was a small guy with a big personality. And a big heart, until this morning when it stopped, and he was gone too. He was maybe 70, so you can’t say it’s a big anomaly when someone that age passes. But he was slim, and he walked several miles every morning. My and my running buddies would pass him often since we ran a similar route in the mornings. Like me he was retired but unlike me he was always subject to more stress and drama from various sources. But still, the times I had seen him recently he was the same old guy, funny, happy, friendly. And now he’s gone, too.
This is where your writer should say something profound, something that pulls meaning from the meaningless. And I can’t. I’m empty. I can only think of two hurting families who were blind sided by life today. Those who never saw it coming and can never say those things they wish they could say to their father, husband or friend. Because they are gone.
Oh no. I’m so sorry for your losses. I couldn’t imagine losing two friends in a single day. Courage.
So sorry! I can imagine they truly appreciated having you in their lives, if it’s any solace.
Thanks Lisa, it was a shock to our whole running group, we passed the guy on the morning runs. He walked with the wife of one of our runners. The last thing he told her was he’d see her next time.
I’m so very sorry for your losses. May their memory be a blessing.
Its their families that I’m sad for. My oil friend had won the game, he had every material possession you could want and he had a great family. They had already struggled for years as one of their daughters fought a losing battle with cancer. His wife, widow, has suffered too much loss.
Sorry for your loss Steve.
Thanks Dapo
That is harsh i’m sorry 🙁
Yeah it just kind of was a lot to process. Thanks J.
So sorry to hear this, Steve.
Thanks Adam
sorry to hear about your pals, steve. i used to have a bartender friend near 60 who told me he had to stop reading the obits at a certain age when he started seeing classmates in there too often.
That’s the truth Freddy. My old professor was probably 100, that was not a surprise but the other two guys were fit. And the one guy was probably the most successful guy I’ve ever known from a winning the corporate game standpoint, and he was out doing what he loved and was very gifted at, skiing.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Your story reminded me of a skiing couple that retired early at 52 and 57 before FIRE was a thing. They are now 74 and 79. Skied 100 days per year was on the senior ski racing team and healthy as can be. At 67, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer and survived surgery and chemo. At 69, he had a quadruple bypass and survived it. A few years back, I was contemplating on upgrading my mountain bike to a new one that costs several grand. He told me “just buy the damn bike, new skis, or whatever and enjoy the journey”. Indeed, life is not a guarantee.
Thanks Denver, you know I think we are going to try to loosen up a little on spending. I’ve got some weird health anomalies that aren’t well understood by the docs. One that could kill me with very little advance notice that is pretty rare. Or I might live to 100. At least my wife is getting a new car. She’s still driving the one she bought in 2006 so maybe that’s a start.
Well, it is about time she gets a new car. 🙂 What car is she leaning towards? With your net worth, I was wondering why you bought a used car even though it was a great deal. By the way, that same couple rarely bought lunch on the mountains even though they preferred a hot lunch and definitely could afford it. You always see them packing their sandwiches in their ski jackets. Several years ago, he told me they were taxed to the hilt with RMD and had to figure out how to start giving their money away. It wasn’t until 5 years ago that they bought their first class seats on an international flight so they could be more comfortable.
She has a Bronco Sport ordered, Badlands editions with all the bells and whistles. Its about the closest thing to her Exterra, a car she has always loved. One of my motives is the 2017 QX 50 was the last year they made the car. They didn’t have one in 2018 and in 2019 they broght out a totally new car called a QX50 that was a front wheel drive/all wheel drive boxy, low powered version that I didn’t like in the least. So I actually got the newest version of my favorite car, 325 HP, rear wheel drive cool car. I love it. But it looks and feels brand new so even when money isn’t an object I’ll still look for a deal. In my wife’s case there are no used Bronco’s since they stopped making them for so long. Plus it isn’t expensive for an SUV with all the features it has, about $36K, for a car that is equivalent to a small Range Rover.
Powerful.
Sad, and a strong reminder to live every day. Like your friends, it can all end so very suddenly. Sorry for your loss.
Thanks Fritz.
Sad and too common. Very sorry for the families left behind. The comment, “just buy the damn bike, new skis, or whatever and enjoy the journey” is right on the mark. At 60 and mostly living in the lower lands of Texas, I’m going up to our cabin in Breck at 9500’ to do some skiing in a few weeks. Every year there are a handful of people in their 50’s and 60’s that permanently run out of batteries on their annual ski trips to altitude. Choose to live the fullest life possible. Sorry for your loss of close friends.
Thanks Casey. I guess it’s not a bad way to go. I skied off a 40 foot cliff at Beaver Creek by mistake and didn’t even get a scratch.
I am so sorry for your loss, Steveark.
I’ve been skiing since a child and I know how a moment of distraction can cost you months in the hospital, and even the life. I’ve been there myself.
On a positive note, can you imagine a better way to die?! Doing what your friend most loved, in top shape, on a gorgeous, snowy hill, surrounded by trees, freshest of air and utmost freedom.
Rest in peace.
That’s a thought we share Kate, and I’ve come close to ending it that way as I told Casey below. I’ve taken on four trees by my count, and the trees have so far won every time.
Oh I’m so, so sorry. The suddenness is terrifying, and my heart goes out to you and their families and friends.
Thanks, Mrs.FCB
Steve, so sorry for you, and the families of your friends.
You and I are the same age. I often ponder mortality…and longevity. Both have their risks.
Having watched my grandmother die with dementia, and now my mother going the same way…had mom died skiing a couple years ago…I ponder how it would have felt, vs. seeing her become less and less….”her”.
Prayers for comfort.
Thanks doc, I watched my dad die a slow painful death from Parkinson’s while my mom died of Alzheimers. He lost his body but kept his mind, she lost her mind but kept her body. I could never decide which was better.
Hi Steve,
I’m sorry for your loss. My condolences to you and to your friends’ families.
Take care.
Thanks, Thrifty.
I’m so sorry for your loss Steve. I agree with your sentiment. It doesn’t matter if a death takes us by surprise or not, it still hurts to see someone we love go. I lost my uncle this year and although we knew he had been fighting cancer for 2 years, it still hurts just the same to see him go. I guess all we can do is appreciate every moment we have while we still have them.
Wise thoughts, Avery.
So sorry to hear about the loss of your two friends. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on your two friends. It’s scary how life can change in an instant.
Thanks Dragons.