I recieved the blessing of his lucidity when sharing these thoughts on our last days together. He nodded & commented as I spoke. The next morning he said I thought about what you said yesterday, and I would like you to say that at my funeral...😓

How Long A Loyal Friend -

You may hear about our plethora of adventures, activities, and accomplishments- hear of Wes’s family and friends whom he loved dearly. But if not, then please ask one of us who shared in those, which are too numerous to mention here.  For Wes, from his youth to this day - - - and beyond there is one word :  "ineluctable". Haha, it seems appropriate doesn't it  - to have to look up a word that matches so unique a man. ….."Ineluctable" means irresistible, undeniable unavoidable.

I would like to present a different perspective, this perspective I have from someone who never knew a life without Wes, and may you be so blessed if this sounds familiar in your life……

Do you know a voice as familiar as your own, heard as you yourself tried to form your first words?  Did that voice grow into conversations of ideas, challenge and adventure?...Did it encourage you, tease you, bring you to laugh and cry through the million miraculous minutes of a lifetime ?

That person behind the voice, have they loved the world as you, did they love so much of the same world you know, and just as deeply  -  even the intimate elements of life that you created for yourself, and sometimes created together ?  Did they grow to a harmonious stance next to you whenever you were at ease, and a poetry of motion whenever you moved in close spaces? Not as a shadow, or even reflection – but in diffraction and refraction, a kind of transform of yourself -  and you of them.  Like a responsive echo, sometimes stronger than the call. Did they console you in fright and failure, and leave judgement behind to stand with you against opposition?  Did they find their own spirit, and share in your personal truths ?  And were they ever tireless to achieve your shared goals?

Do you see something of them when you look in a mirror, or feel their tendencies in your own personal mannerisms, certain habits and vocabulary idiosyncrasies……  even how you speak with inflections of a shared common vernacular, sometimes formed from a unique moment, or event --- thereafter a kind of subtle code calling back to a very specific time and place  - long past ?  Are you each- both progenitor of and legacy from one another’s experiences ?

I will be ever thankful for the blessings of camaraderie, inspiration and security of a few kindred spirits in my life,….. but only one remains who has been -  loyal from the very beginning of my life.  Only one I know intimately from where they came, and where they are going. Only one known as long as I have known myself, unified in common memory, rather than from interpretation of separate stories.  Known as I myself think, known well - as knowing my own needs and desires, as I know the image and feeling of my own hands.

Time erodes between and around us, even as our spirts reunite intermittently, like assured cycles of the tide.  We meet halfway sometimes, others require asymmetric effort, and still our waters mix.

For Wes who followed no religion, yet exemplified strong spirituality, I would share this poem

by James Hunt  nearly two hundred years ago...

Abu Ben Adam (may his tribe increase)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace

And saw, within the moonlight of his room

Making it rich, like a lily in bloom

An angel writing in a book of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adam bold

And to the presence in his room he said

'What writest thou?' The vision raised its head

And with a look of all sweet accord

Answered: 'The names of those who love the Lord

'And is mine one?' said Abu. 'Nay not so'

Replied the Angel. Abu spoke more low

But cheerily still and said 'I pray thee then

Write me as one that loves his fellow-men'

The angel wrote and vanished. The next night

It came again with awaking light

And showed the names of whom love of God had blessed.

And lo! Ben Adam's name led all the rest.

And this, from one of our shared favorite poets, Robert Service who said “its dead easy to die, it’s the going on living that’s tough.”

For you Wes, here’s the line of a poem we loved to share from another Robert Service poem about Sam McGee who said, “please close the door, it’s fine in hear, but I greatly fear- you’ll let in the cold and storm, since I left Plum Tree down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm”.

So my blood brother, we close another door where you will sleep forever warm, and thoughts of you will warm us all who loved and will always love you.

And for the rest of us I’d like to close with these thoughts from Gone From My Sight by Henry Van Dyke

Think of standing upon a seashore. A ship, at our side,

spreads its white sails to the moving breeze and starts

for the blue ocean. Its an object of beauty and strength.

We stand and watch ... until, at length, it hangs like a speck

of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at our side says, "There, its gone."

Gone where?

Gone from our sight. That is all. Its just as large in mast,

hull and spar as when it left our side.

And, is just as able to bear its load of living freight to the destined port.

The diminished size is in us -- not in it.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, it is gone,"

there are other eyes watching it coming, and other voices

ready to take up the glad shout, "Here it comes!"

…..and aren’t they the lucky ones……