The thing is I've been getting these daily updates about an acquaintance of mine, a man I've known for about thirteen years, but wouldn't particularly call more than an acquaintance. He is larger than life, with a big voice and an even bigger persona and he is dying of brain cancer. He will leave behind a wife and four children and I estimate that he is not more than a few years older than me...probably the same age as our President and the same age as, yes, George Stephanopoulos.
The last time that I saw him he was with his son getting ice cream at a local Nashville place called Maggie Moo's. He looked as vibrant and healthy as ever, and I would never have guessed that I would be sitting here writing this now. But that's the thing about life (and death)...we just don't know.
So I'm wondering if there's some meaning I can glean from the interactions that I have had with him, and if there's some way I can honor his spirit in the course of my own life. Maybe I can find the part of me that's larger than life that I seem to hide most of the time. Or maybe I can not take things so seriously. (Okay, realistically, that's probably not gonna happen). Or maybe I can just remember that my time here is fleeting and to make the most of the little moments like the evening runs for ice cream.
As for the book deal, I still hope it happens because everyone loves a story where the underdog succeeds. Oh yeah, did I mention that that was the point of it? Well, it is.
I'll be back to the meaningless entertaining dribble soon, I promise.
Until then, thanks for stopping by again...and tell your friends.