One Minute

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One minute you’re here.

The next minute you’re gone.

It didn’t take long for 2022 to make me absolutely sick to my stomach.

I was relaxing at home when a work friend reached out to tell me that another buddy - a 57-year-old, hardworking guy, suffered a fatal heart attack while on vacation with his family.

It felt like someone punched me in the stomach.

Dave and I met at a job site about a month ago, and we left a long meeting, laughing at how early it was and how we were too old to be up so early.

“When are we going to be done with this?” I asked.

“It’s getting worse,” Dave said. “I’m working harder now than when I was 25.”

We commiserated a little longer, both agreeing that we had five more years.

On Christmas Eve, Dave called me from his vacation spot.

“Are you working?” He asked.

“You aren’t?”

“I’m on vacation,” he said, “And I’m getting calls.”

I told him that I would visit the job for him.

“I’m so tired of bailing you out,” I said.

He was laughing as he hung up the phone.

And that’s what I’ll remember.

My last conversation with Dave ended in laughter.

Most of our conversations over the last 30 years ended the same way.

Damn.

I’m going to miss him.

And it certainly isn’t lost on me that we were almost the exact same age, with the same size family, and the same work ethic.

Can’t believe it.

I lost a buddy.

Rest In Peace, Dave.

One minute you’re here.

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