More recently:

I was about 18 when we first talked about religion. I don’t remember if I knew or not before this talk that you were Atheist, but I do remember our conversation well. We were driving to find my first car. We listened to Johnny Cash in your truck on the way to Northfield.

You told me that there were better things in life to worry about. Like a sunrise on an early morning drive, the world was going to be there the next day if that is what fate has in store for you. What goes around, comes around you said. I remember saying to you that I was just not a fan of organized religion and that the similarities were to great to decide on just one. You told me to just be a good person, that was enough. You said it took you awhile to realize that is what was most important. I took that to heart.

Last summer, I spent many more days with you than I ever had. I knew I wasn’t done learning from you and that’s all that mattered.

I kept every single parking ticket from Methodist Hospital. I knew what time I could leave so I wouldn’t have to pay. Anytime after 7:30 at night or before 6 in the morning, and you were pretty much guaranteed to have some coffee money for the next day.

I spent my off days, I ditched work and I’d come after work to watch Brian Williams with you and talk about our days. You didn’t ask passively how my day was, you wanted to hear about it. I had started work at a 3rd party trucking company and you used to drive one. It was just one more thing to bond over.

I really can’t imagine having spent my summer doing anything else but hanging out with you when I had a spare moment.

One last story:

It had been a long week. My car had broken down and I had been told that my job was ending sooner than expected because I was not as reliable anymore. Contract work is awesome until it’s not.

I was tired and angry at the world. It had been almost 4 days since you last spoke a coherent word. It was mainly grunts now. I missed my pal.

I showed up after work after having spent 520 dollars on a fucking tune-up for Bonnie. You would have slapped me for paying that. It had not been a good week overall, with arguments and bickering a plenty between all of us. I just kept pushing people away and putting them at arms length.

It was my “shift” after work when I got there at 5:30pm and all I wanted to do was take a nap for five hours until Uncle John got there that night. However, that was not going to be the case.

As soon as I hit the cot, my phone kept ringing and buzzing. First it was Marsha making sure I was okay. Then it was Ty texting me, making sure I was okay. I don’t think anyone believed me either when I said I was fine. Fine is just a word I don’t use often. “I’m great” or “awesome” are two phrases I used plenty more than “fine”.

Then it was my brother. Nicky, as you called him, said to me, “If anything happens tonight, I want you to call me okay? Let me know.” There was something about it that day that I wasn’t allowed to take a fucking nap. I fell asleep for about an hour and then I woke up with just an awful pit in my stomach.

I sat up and looked over at him. His mouth was dry and his breath was even more labored, I didn’t know it was possible. I wet his lips and wiped the tears from his eyes. I sat down in the chair next to the bed and I had my last conversation with him.

I told him that I loved him, but I couldn’t watch him live in pain any longer, let alone nobody else could either. We were all tired. I told him he had suffered enough and that I hoped he would find peace very soon. I held his hand and ran my thumb over the back of it. I set it down back on the bed and said good-bye. “I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I got home about an hour later and my sister called me as I pulled in the driveway. I just sort of knew.

I placed a dime and my Woody keychain in your casket. Someone needed to send you off with some slot money and something to help you keep your dreams alive.

“There was once an old owl who lived in an oak.
The more he saw, the less he spoke.
The less he spoke, the more he heard.
We should all try to be like that old bird.”