I talked to T tonight. He's barely conscious. I told him some things...it's your birthday (he said, "I know"), that I loved him (me too) and told him it would be ok, if he were tired he could go to sleep. That wherever he is I will be thinking of him. That he made an impact on me from that very first day I called him to come in for an interview.
I hate that he is dying and I won't see him again. I thought of him today as I stood in the kitchen at work. I missed seeing him sitting at the table eating his lunch, cracking sarcastic wit at me. I miss running into him in the hallway on the way to the restroom. Him standing at my desk laughing.
To think just 2 and a half months ago, he was all of that and now he is on his deathbed.
At 53.
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