The Man Who Sold the World

Sometimes people get spoken about like they were saints after they die.  It's as if death brought some kind of aura to them and now that they're gone, we can talk about them like they were the greatest person we've ever known.  I never understood this.  I guess it's a respect thing.  Maybe when it happens so suddenly, we think we have more time.My philosophy is that if the person is so great in life, why not speak highly of them when they're on this Earth?  Why not relish in their company and tell people, either who know the person or who don't, how great they are?  Why do we wait until after they're gone to do this?

I recently lost a good friend who was the exception to the rule.  I guess I'm being hypocritical by writing this now, because he passed away, but the point here is to explain that this man was magnetic, and spoken highly of by anyone who knew him.  He was told this to his face.  He was talked about amongst friends and colleague when he wasn't there.  People were genuinely happy to be around him.  We listened intently when he spoke.  And he loved to speak.  He went on and on about his family, his wife and three sons.  He talked about his horses, and his ranch and the zip-line he wanted to build on his property in Alabama.   How cool is that? 

Steve was the hardest working man I've ever known.  I know this first hand.  He wanted nothing more than to be the best provider possible for his family, no matter how ragged he ran himself.  He cooked meat on the grill better than anyone.  His marinades were those of legend.  He loved the rodeo.  He loved helping people.  He helped me all the time; be a better worker, be a better father, be a better man. We joked with each other about our accents.  He made me laugh constantly.  He called everyone "brother," He was a good 'ole boy.  He was the man who would sell the world for the better of others.

He loved his co-workers, because they weren't colleagues or supervisors or employees to him, they were his friends.    Steve was a strict father at times, but it was only so he could turn his boys into great men.  He was so truly and absolutely proud of them.  He had bumps in the road with his wife, but he loved her as much as a husband could love a wife.  He had health problems, completely unrelated to his eventual death.  He should have already passed away.  He spent almost a year in the hospital with an incredibly serious illness.  When he was brought in to the hospital a few years back, it looked pretty grim.  He told me the story about when they took him in, he knew it was really bad.  The nurse on duty told him, "Steve, you're not going to die during my shift.  I'm not going to let you."  After hearing this, he thought to himself, "You know what, I'm not gonna die during anyone's shift." Badass.  I could literally go on and on, but this already sounds enough like a eulogy, and I don't want that. 

Believe me, I spoke highly of Steve when he was with us.  Everyone who knew him did.  I'm NOT saying these things now that he's gone...but I am writing about it.  I just wish I did this a while ago.  How many people are happy and content with their lives and have it all?  He was a happy person. How many people can you TRULY say that about?  My friend Steve did.

I was with Steve when he passed away.  I'm comforted by that in a weird way.  He wasn't alone.  I also feel some kind of guilt.  I'm reminded that there was nothing I could have done, despite going over it again and again.  It was sudden, and it was unfair.  He was too young.  He had life by the balls, he had plans.

I'll fully admit that I'm not a very religious person.  I have faith that if I'm a good person, and treat people well, then I'll get the same in return.  If heaven is a real place, and Steve believed that there is, he's there, waiting on his loved ones.  Rest in peace my friend.  You left us too early, but you lived what amounts to two lifetimes while you were here.  Not many people can say that. 

"Somewhere in the darkness, the gambler, he broke even.  And In his final words I found an ace that I could keep."  Love you brother.