8 Ball In The Wind

Monday, January 31, 2022

Rest In Peace

 


I was sitting here tonight and started thinking about the loved ones I have lost over the years since I came of age.  Not just people that I knew, but those that I considered family, and loved.  This is only a partial list of the people who left a huge hole in my life.  It’s almost February, and that has for so long been the start of my sad times.  To all those on this list, and to everyone else I have lost who isn’t, I love you, and I’ll see most of you again someday.

Candy and Shilo, who both died so young in a useless car crash while coming up to visit me.  An ex-wife and daughter who I still mourn deeply every February, the anniversary of their deaths.

Dirty Dan, who was set up for a brake-check crash on the way home from the Toy Run, and who was so tough it took years for his body to die. 

Doc, who died nearly ripped in half surrounded by your brothers at that guardrail post on that curve on Hwy 12.  I still can’t ride passed that curve without seeing you laying there and rendering you an honored salute.  You have been in my dreams and nightmares for decades.  At least the nightmares I have learned to deal with, and the dreams to enjoy.

Swan, such a gentle giant, hit and killed so senselessly at a stoplight by a woman on her way to the bar, and just didn’t see you and your Harley waiting for the light to change.  I miss you Brother, I still swear I hear your pipes, and see your Shovels front wheel sometimes when I ride.

Tennessee, the drugs took control, and you weren’t you when you died.  You weren’t the happy biker, and loving husband and father.  I lost count of how many times you would come rescue me when I got lost in Portland and called you for directions. I will miss our time together until God calls me home. All I can ever say is I am sorry Brother.

Rory, we never did learn who beat you to death in your own bed.  Or even why? You were always there when needed, and ready to do whatever was needed…good or bad.

Big Ed, with the cancer eating you up inside, you hit the road and ended your suffering on your own terms.  I can’t think of a better way to go home.

Big Red, I loved you first as a friend, then a sister.  We rode together, and you introduced and pushed Robin and I together.  I miss your cooking, your attitude, and your loyalty.  You are another that I wish the cancer had never taken from us.  I still see your lifeless body finally at peace.  Your wake was the last great party we shared together.  I miss playing double deck pinochle, and cribbage with you.  See you again someday sister.

Buck, you truly rode ’em like you stole ‘em.  But you couldn’t outrun the reaper when that van crossed the center line.  We shared a lot or time on the road together, and I wish we still could.  I’ll catch you on the Heavenly Road sometime.

Barry, when they gave you six months to live, you fought with everything you had in you.  The Drs had said six months, and you fought that out to almost nine years.

Jean, you were a second mother to me, and I know it was an angel that made me buy that Tacoma newspaper that day and read the obits.  There is no other way that I would have known of your funeral.  The looks on the family’s faces when they saw me at the chapel is something that I still hold in my heart.

Brad, when I heard that you had died, it was like someone had shattered my heart.  I thought we had just lost contact and kept trying to find you until I heard from Heavy that you had died.  I still can’t believe you have been gone for so long.

Irish, what can I say about you Irish?  A fellow Seahawk, so many weird connections back in the day.  That twinkle in your eye when you had something mischievous on your mind.  Sharing the road with you, but not as much as I’d like.  You always told me like it was, and treated me with respect, even when you were showing me that I was wrong, and you supported me when I needed it.   

Leprechaun, it was always a pleasure to see your face, to share ‘the mother’s milk’, ‘the water of life’ with you as we told stories and sang Irish songs.  I always looked forward to seeing you, and when you were hit and killed you rocked the community we lived in.

Moe, God works in mysterious ways, and brings people in and out of our lives.  Things went bad between us, and that I regret.  But I never expected you to die so suddenly, and unexpectedly.  I will see you in Heaven some day.

Robin, I can still easily see in my mind you take your last breaths.  Hear your voice telling me you loved me in the hospital.  Your leaving was such a shock, a part of me still hasn’t fully accepted it. 

Jimmy, one of my favorite memories of you is sharing that last drink of 12 year old Tullemore with you.  If ever there was anything that you could do to help, you were there without hesitation.  Often without even needing to be asked.  I loved you Brother, and you made me a part of your family.  It was a privilege to be part of spreading your ashes with the family.

Billy D, I can only say I wish I had half the heart you did.  Your spirit was fierce, and you would defend your family without remorse, and you loved those close to you with equal intensity and respect.

Summer, we almost married then you ripped my heart out.  But I never truly stopped loving you at some level.  When Robin was in the hospital, and you sent Guy to sit with me so I wouldn’t be alone, I can’t tell you how much that meant to me.  Then to have you pass so suddenly, it was something I still can’t believe. 

Kim, I thank God every day that I was able to at least hold your hand for a few seconds before they loaded you into the ambulance and took you away.  I will never understand God’s plan when He took you away.  My world hasn’t stopped shaking since.  I love you, but then you already knew that.  I will see you and your mom again when God calls me Home.