Remembering Walter

If you visited on Sunday to read about my featured artist of the week and find a freebie, I disappointed you. Allow me to explain why.

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, our friend, Walter Harris, who had been fighting prostate cancer and complications from diabetes and gout, took a fall at home. He was taken to the emergency room to check for possible broken bones. There were none, but fluid had built up around his heart and in his lungs so he was admitted. Further testing showed that the end was near and on Thanksgiving Day he was moved to hospice care. He died very early on 25 November with his wife at his side.

My husband met him when Walter worked for the local transit authority from which he retired a number of years ago. The Harrises were our friends are well as neighbors. They helped us move into our house, and we often met for meals and chat. Walter was well educated, a former teacher. He had a dry wit and eclectic tastes in reading material - everything from the classics to vampire stories. He rescued abused dogs and often said he found animals more enjoyable than people. It's hard not to imagine picking up the phone to hear his soft spoken mellow tones suggesting we meet for breakfast at "Shonenberger's" as he called Shoney's. His favorite phrase was "Who cares?" delivered in a tone that suggested a deep cynicism but which hid a soft heart.
Walter would be amazed to discover just how many people did care when they heard the news of his demise. He wanted no funeral, no service but later this week friends will gather for a small wake at one of his favorite eateries and lift a glass to his memory. We'll miss him.