On wendsday, I recieved a call from a friend of mine, Sean, that hit me like a brick between the eyes. His father has Cancer. The doctors have done all that they can and it is about quality of life, rather than length now. Friday, I went to see Dan, and was struck by the man I saw in bed. The scene was similar to when my mothers boyfreind Ed passed away. Hospital bed in the living room, his favorite music playing softly, people huddled in another room tryingt their best to comfort each other all the while battling their own pain. Dan was this. God, was he thin. All the time I had know him, he had been a robust man. In 15 years, I cant remember ever hearing him raise his voice. He was strong, in personality and physique, his cherib body decieving. And he always had a smile on his face publicly. Even when his wife passed away, he was a host, a comforting presence when iside you knew he was raging toward heaven, but grateful Nikki was no longer hurting. He was a provider. Long after Sean had moved out, Dan was quick to help his son if he needed it, and Sean frequently did. He was a piller of respect where he worked and with his clients. The man was professional and fair and generous. Everything you would ever want in a father, a friend, a saint. To see him lying in that hospital bed, pain creasing his face, sleeping, just crushes my heart. I fear that Dan may not last by mid week. And the world will have lost one of teh last true gentlmen.