Love and Sex

The photo was last night when Howie was playing with Jamie’s dog Hurley and being watched by Babylon the cat.

 

This morning Howie pounced into the bed and said, “We have an emergency!”  He ripped off his pajamas did need immediate attention.  All I could say afterwards was, “Well, aren’t YOU full of surprises?”

 

I came in to my computer to start my day and am now in tears at the beautiful letter he wrote his cousin Alan last night:

 

February 6, 2017

 

Dear Al,

 

Over the years I think the only mail you have ever got from me was sent as humor like the recent defective golf shoes letter (for which I am still expecting payment.)  Or like the enclosed “Anatomy of a Kvetch.”

 

This is not one of those letters.

 

I have been thinking of you multiple times each day since we last spoke.  I did not want to call again because it so clearly exhausted you.  So I decided to write.

 

I am so very sorry to hear you struggling so. The closest I can personally identify to what you are describing in terms of lack of energy is the recovery from my heart surgery two years ago.  In addition to the normal strain of such surgery I lost a lot of blood and was very anemic. If I did as much as get up and use the bathroom, I was so exhausted I had to go back to sleep in the recliner.

 

I had the psychological benefit of knowing “this too shall pass.” It is unclear to me if you are still having the Cleveland Clinic there do tests?  I so hope you can find a cause and a solution for this.

 

Speaking of Cleveland Clinic, you probably saved my life by insisting I go there. You may or may not recall, but the doctor there, who only does mitral valve work and has done more than any person in the world, said mine was one of the most difficult he had ever done. The doctor I had picked out here in Tampa was of course very good.  But I have real doubts about whether he could have handled that level of difficulty and whether I would have had such a good outcome, or even lived.

 

I have always felt that you and I had a very unique bond. It started of course with your relationship with Mom. Even in the most difficult of times, if your name came up, it brought a smile to her face and triggered a glint in her eye. Rick still remembers as a youngster the time you showed up at the door unannounced. He had no idea who you are and I cannot right now recall the clowning you did with him, but he still tells the story.

 

In reflecting on that bond, it occurs to me that I think in part it was based on two things we have in common. One was simply operating with integrity, a relatively rare value these days. I remember your explaining to me why you quit litigating – because the judges were crooked and you were not going to play that game. Your integrity was a common thread thoughout all of our discussions on any topic over the years.

 

When Mom was close to the end she called me to her bedside one day. This brings tears to my eyes as I write and I have to pause.  She said “I hope you are successful in your life however you decide to define it.  It may be money or your job. I just want you to remember one thing. No matter how successful you are in your career or your finances, something or someone one can always take it away.  There is only one thing that nobody but you can take away from you – and that is your honor.”

 

That is how I have tried to live my life and I honestly believe I have. It is how you lived yours I believe.  

 

The second thing that strikes me we uniquely have in common is our bantering sense of humor.  I cannot think of anyone who could give me back as well as I gave more than you.  And because we had similar senses of humor, I think we both could appreciate the other’s humor.  I am reminded of that glorious day on the golf course…”Hey Alan”  “What?”  “Ever hit it into that water?”  I would not trade all the holes in one in the world for that 18th hole eagle!

 

And speaking of your humor brings to mind the time at my townhouse in