You remind me of a phone conversation I had last night.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it, but my dad lived in Mexico near Monterey for several years after he first retired, before he began to feel too ill to be so far from family.

After he came back to the States and moved up here to northern Michigan, he stayed in touch with two very close friends, a man and wife who were the veterinarians who took care of his dogs when he was down there.

They’ve been up to visit a couple of times.

I didn’t have their phone number, however, and didn’t know how to find it on Dad’s phone.

They finally noticed on Facebook yesterday that he had passed. They called immediately and we all talked for a good hour, remembering what a good friend he was.

They told me the thing they missed the most was not being able to have me come to their place to eat. And they’ve “threatened” to come up and cook for me. :-)

I know they probably can’t, especially given the pandemic, but what a lovely idea. Food is love. Across so many cultures.

Written by

Writer. Runner. Marine. Airman. Former LGBTQ and HIV activist. Former ActUpNY and Queer Nation. Polyglot. Middle-aged, uppity faggot. jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com

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