I met Lewy when he was a 16-year old kid busing tables at the supper club I worked at back in 1974. He was scrappy, quiet, and always got the job done. As we came to know each other better, we'd joke around and make the most of working together. When additional help was needed due to someone being sick or shorthanded, he was the first to step in. He never complained. Over the next four years Lewy matured and took on important roles with tending bar and spring cleanups at the resort. As manager I could not have grown our resort business without his grit and determination. It was fun working with someone who always put forth 100% effort. He also played an important role as one of the initial members of the Silver Lakers, a softball team put together in 1976. When Linda and I married in 1978, we were proud to include Lewy in our wedding party. It was nonstop fun from start to finish.
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| Lewy and me |
After those days of softball camaraderie, our friendship never waned...despite not seeing each other on a regular basis. When our paths crossed, we always spent a few minutes reminiscing about earlier times in our life. Only recently did I learn of Lewy's struggle with various cancers that had invaded his body. When I returned home for the summer, we finally connected with one another again. We recalled playing ball, winning championships, celebrating afterward, and how we lived life in the fast lane. He shared the fact that he knew his time was limited. He chose to ignore the early warning signs of failing health and doctor pleas to get treatment underway before it was too late. Rather than finding fault with his ailments, he accepted guilt as few as able to to do.
Upon receiving word from his family that Lewy's body was shutting down, I knew that it was important for me to see him one more time. Today was the day I needed to go. I realize this is not something that everyone is capable of doing with strength and fortitude; for me it was about respect for our longtime friendship. Sitting by someone's dying bedside and holding their hand might seem morbid and dark to some, but it is anything but that for me. I was there for Lewy, providing assurance that his pain and suffering would soon pass. Despite bring unable to speak and falling in and out of semi-conscious-state sleep, I felt him squeezing my hand when I recalled happier times at the ballpark. After awhile it was not a moment for saying 'goodbye'....only "until we see each other again one day." I am thankful to have called him my friend.
