December 28 now joins a sad list of dates that I remember
with tears: January 10, the day both my Dad and Ian Poole died; January 19, the
day Jan Palach died; November 21 and 22, when my Mom and President Kennedy
died; December 7, Pearl Harbor Day.
Today, December 28, 2015, my dearest friend -- my best
friend for fifty years – died in Richmond. Don Dale passed away, apparently of
a massive heart attack. I am stunned and immensely sad. My last email to him
was a little before noon today; he likely never saw it. I called and left a
message last night; he did the same. I thought we’d talk later today.
Instead, we’ll never talk again.
I was sixteen when I met Don; we celebrated fifty years of
friendship this past September in Richmond, where, save for an Air Force stint in
Germany, he always lived. I am so glad we had that party!
As I said in the blog post about that festive evening, we
had grown closer over the years. We emailed daily, often several times a day.
We talked on the phone less frequently, but still often. We traveled together
and I visited him in Richmond.
The size of the hole in my life is not yet clear. Already I’ve
thought of half a dozen things I wanted to share with him. As I write these
words I know that he, my most faithful reader, will never see them. I am sad
beyond description.
But we did have fifty years. I will forever be grateful for
that.
I love you, Don.
