In May 2012, Bob was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer.
His pain was so bad at this point the only control was a device sewn into his shoulder to admin drugs – then the toxic waste the medicos said ‘might help’.
They knew and Bob certainly knew, it was a no go. He hopefully allowed it, but knew in his heart, it wouldn’t work… He could ‘feel’ it wouldn’t.
The horror was – he had been complaining about his problem, since October of 2011- the medicos could find nothing. The medicos were worthless. He kept after them, and kept getting worse.
Then May of 2012 arrived, along with Bob’s death notice. A lot more to this, which I won’t relate.
He knew the score – he had skin in the game. He was an avid & excellent golfer & I had just about convinced him to try Pro-Am. It wasn’t to be.
Upon his diagnoses – within hours he emailed everyone to prepare for his death. How does one do this?
You’d have to be Bob; at least in part.
Not being able to withstand more than three treatments, he opted out as he was now pushed to his maximum of disability. By last week in June he emailed all, he’d opted to go into hospice care.
The last phase of the death watch had begun. One cannot even imagine what goes through a mind, that knows it will soon be no more. A vitality winding down, and KNOWING it’s coming to conclusion.
Bob did this.
No one could die better – only as well as he.
Mid July – at 2200 hours, he swung his last club; got an Eagle; turned to beam at everyone as tears trickled slowly, softly down his cheeks. He turned back to face the green and flag in the distance; his image fading, fading, fading. The chuff, chuffing of sprinklers in the distance; and he was gone; and he took this scene with him.
I will always miss you Bob – thank you for your dream visits – so much more than expected.
Your twice wife and always friend – Julia❤️