“The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.” Jack London
Another friend has died. He used his time.
Friend is such a strong word I hesitate to use it. Tim was always friendly to me, though, and that meant a great deal. He also loved my best friend very much and that counts beyond measure.
Tim was a complete overachiever in in the best meaning of those words. He was a physician, a plantsman of the first order, an accomplished photographer and a singer. He collected pottery and juke boxes and poker chips. Little escaped his interest. Few subjects resisted his intellect.
Tim was always laughing and every photograph shows him smiling. He had this mischievous smile when he was thinking out a joke, a pun, or a play on words, It was as if he was reveling in the thought before he expressed it. Playing with it. Thinking what a joy it was to think.
Tim was sick for a long, long time. He battled death and all the miserable medical procedures and pain that proceeded it for many years. His partner was also sick at the same time and remains so to this day.
Lived well, died poorly. That’s too often heard. We can’t control our death. With luck, with grace, we control our lives before then. Tim and his partner traveled extensively before his death, he got reacquainted with old friends, he continued caring, he enjoyed life even while spent, tired, and gravely ill.
We should all spend our time as well.
Tim, rest in peace.