Passing of a Friend and Mentor

My best friend just let me know his father, Eric, passed away. His dad had been sick with leukemia for awhile, and was home on hospice care. When my wife and I went back to California a few weeks ago, we made sure to make time to visit with Eric. It was tough seeing him in the final stages of his life, but I am thankful that I got to talk with him and share some time before he passed.

Eric was one of my English teachers during high school; I had him for two of the four years. He always used to write "Wordy" at the top of any paper I turned in to him, as well as correcting any flaws in grammar, punctuation, and spelling. He would often tell me that he was sure I could write better, that I had a better idea in there somewhere, and I just needed to let it out. It became my goal to turn in a paper on which he had no chance of writing "wordy" and that he could not say I left something behind, or out, or not fully developed. I did not succeed in the first year, but one of the final papers I turned in to him my second year finally, finally, did not have that dreaded word at the top. I got an A- on that paper. Eric does not know this, but I kept that paper with me and it helped guide and assure me as I finally chose to major in English Literature and Composition in college and pursue a career using writing. Unfortunately, during one of my many moves, that paper got lost.

Eric was also a friend to me, and a bit of a father-figure. His son, Chris, became my best friend, and we hung out a lot in high school and afterward. Eric, and his wonderful, strange, genuine wife Norma, let me hang out for some of their family activities. He gladly was Dungeon Master for Chris and me on occasion. He was someone I went to when I had issues with school that I did not want to share with my mother (who was also a teacher at the high school). I did not always follow his advice, but it was always sound, from a different perspective from my parents or my own experience, and usually filled with a dry, wry humor I enjoyed, so it was worth listening to.

Chris and I lived together at college and for a few years afterward, as we both tried to make our starts in the world, so I saw Eric frequently as I grew into an adult. He continued to shed perspective, insight, and humor on anything I brought to his attention. I listened to him even when I did not agree with him, because he often taught me something... even if it was against my will.

I now make my living as a technical writer, a career where I am not allowed to be wordy and where adjectives are verboten. I'm sure Eric would be satisfied, and maybe a little proud, to know he was one of a small group of teachers who pushed me in this direction, helped mold who I am, and helped hone my skills so that I could make a living doing something I enjoy.

And I am absolutely, positively certain he's looking over my shoulder right now and thinking, "Wrap it up, John. This is getting wordy. You're hiding your premise." You know what, Eric? Sometimes, just sometimes, it's okay to be wordy. Now is that time.

Rest in peace, Eric. You'll be both remembered and missed.