Deathe traveled to St. Louis in late September of 2011 for his last business trip. He knew it would be his last, and he knew his boss was sending him specifically to say his last goodbyes. He was going to a conference for his industry, a yearly shindig that had seen him rise from attendee to presenter to Keynote Speaker. He is extremely well respected in his field and has made many good contacts and friends in his years working at APU. Besides the presentations, I heard stories of networking over drinks, commiserating about personal lives and celebrating the good stuff in life that they had in common, despite sometimes working for businesses that are competitors. Deathe WOWed us all with his ability to connect with people in a business manner, no matter the age, gender, position held, what have you. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised us, he is so skilled with cognitive behavioral therapy techniques and the zen approach he uses to relate to people. Regardless, he knew some of those folks would want to hear the news from him, and hear it before he passed.
He returned from the trip to tell me only that it had been fine, and that Thursday night he got drunk with those friends at a bar. He told me they'd all had round after round of Cape Cods in his honor... I took that to mean they were all pretty stricken. Polite sympathies don't require you to get sloppy schnockered on vodka and cranberry juice in a dying man's honor, but true grief sure as hell does.
Several days later Deathe mentioned an incident that happened on the trip while we were smoking on our back porch, one of the rare times anymore when he talks, and even at that it's pretty infrequent. He and the conference crew were at dinner together, eating at a large table with seating such that not everyone at the table could hear each other and conversations tended to split off into groups. He'd broken the news of his illness and its prognosis to the folks sitting at his end of the table, and everyone was quiet, stunned, absorbing the news. In the neighboring group of folks at the table, a man noticed the lull in sound and yelled "Hey Deathe! What's the matter, you sick or something?" You can imagine the gulf of foot-in-mouth that formed then... until a lady sitting next to Deathe addressed the guy. "Yes, actually, Deathe has a fatal neurological disease. He came here this year to say goodbye to all of us."
The guy had to leave the table in his embarrassment. Deathe being the amazing guy he is, got up to follow him, reassure him, and ask him to come back to the table. Instead of looking to gather sympathy or attention from the incident, he did his best to care for his fellow man and make sure the guy knew he hadn't offended Deathe in any way. Once the man sat back down, Deathe took the opportunity to tell the entire table about the time he'd done a similar thing -- at a family gathering, when asked how he was doing he replied with "Oh, not too bad, I'm not dying of, like, stomach cancer or something.", not knowing that the brother-in-law he was talking to had just lost his mother to stomach cancer. He felt bad enough from that incident to retell the story for years, using it to reassure his daughter and wife and others that embarrassing moments happen to everyone.
And at that dinner he offered up a shred of his dignity, exposed his humanity, brought comfort to those who needed it, for someone none of us know. Just a fellow human.
This is the essence of my husband's spirit.
He told me this story matter-of-fact in style, not really getting why I was so impressed and honored by what he did and who he is. His indelible mark on my soul is one of the brightest.
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