Surgery

There's a crosseyed monkey, armed with a cudgel and dull scissors, trying to perform a frontal lobotomy on me... through the back of my head. I think he's getting somewhere... my thinking is muddled. I mean more, much more, than usual. It's all part of the sacrifice.

One of my friends just lost his wife to cancer. 'Twas a long and hard fought war, going back over two years. Though we knew it was coming, and coming fast at the end, it was taken very hard. Especially by my friend. Merry frickin' Christmas.

Last night, he came into Fritz's, and we did something we hadn't done in quite awhile... we sat down, drank, and just visited. The beers went down, and his spirits came up. I can't tell you how long we sat there, but by the time he left, there had been four of us sitting there, reliving rides we'd been on and such. He told us that with one exception, it was the best time he'd had since her death... it had provided a great release, and it meant the world to him.

Hey, we know that the things he has to deal with won't disappear after a night of drinking. But he's been reminded that he's not alone, and that we are all there for him.

It's well worth this morning's surgery via simian.

Posted by That 1 Guy at January 7, 2006 11:31 AM