My Dear Reader

Over the years I have had this one reader who read my blogs faithfully. Knowing he was out there reading gave me a personal connection to my audience. I began to use the phrase "my dear reader," as though I were writing to just one person. "My dear reader" was a wonderful man named Marc Bernado.

Marc was 58 years young this year. He was a deeply intelligent man. He worked at NIH, a member of a prestigious team with a focus on prostrate cancer. A coworker there wrote that he was the glue that held them together and an indispensable member of their team. He was a loving father and devoted husband. In fact, it was rare to see Marc without his sweet wife Rose. Marc and Rose had entered that wonderful period in life where the kids are raised and a couple can really begin to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

After a 6 month, fiercely fought, battle with colon cancer he died two weeks ago. I had to wait a bit to write about it.

Marc was one of my Usual Suspects. These are the loose group of skilled paddlers who show up in some number on most of my events. The Usual Suspects have supported me over the years as I climbed the skills ladder. They have been with me on days when I was sad and cried on the water, and days when I was elated and full of joyful laughter. They have written me heart-felt letters of support and kind words of wisdom when I faltered. They were with me on both occasions where we rescued strangers who were in critical danger. We are a team; a loose, organic team that grew out of the ample waters of the Baltimore-Washington DC region.

I am 49 this year. What I have realized as I collected more years is that the losses really do begin to out number the gains. The number of friends that I have had pass away over the last few years is mounting in number. This of course leads me to think about my own mortality. We cannot know the number of years we will have. Every friend lost is a reminder to live life fully. Plan for tomorrow, but LIVE today.

I'm not going to arrive on the other side with a perfectly preserved visage, calmly walking into the light. No, I'm gonna skid in sideways with my hair on fire hollering "woohoo, what a ride!" If there is something on the other side, I hope I get to see Marc again, as well as all my friends who have arrived before me.

I will still write to "my dear reader" and I am certain I will think of Marc's smile every time I type that phrase. Here you are, my friend, still a part of my team.