Say Goodbye to Lester

My friend Lester died two weeks ago and I want to tell you about it for a reason I'll get to in a minute. Nobody knows exactly when he passed away because he lived in an Assisted Living place that was heavy on the 'living' and light on the 'assisted'.

Lester called me a few days before he died. I wasn't home and the message was "Lester called, give him a call when you can." I tried calling but he never answered. I tried about 3 times in 2 days and then gave up because I was sure I'd see him in church that Sunday. I was the one who called him, he rarely called, so it surprised me that he had. And, now, it makes me wonder if he had a premonition that he'd be moving on soon.

Lester would have turned 95 on September 7. His twin brother, Chester, died about 7 years ago. Niether Lester or Chester ever married. Instead, the twins lived with their mother and cared for her until she died at a ripe old age. S. Dakota natives who moved to Santa Monica in the forties, he loved it here and had a dispostion as sunny as the town he grew to love.

One of the greatest honors and delights of his life happened on August 8th, when our mutual friends Shelley and Mark were married at our church. Shelley's parents have long since passed on, so she asked two elderly friends of ours, Lester and Norma, to walk her down the aisle, beloved older friends as sort of surrogate parents. I'll never forget Lester's face, the pride that he'd been asked. In his very handsome navy blue suit, he grinned with pleasure all the way down the aisle. Who knew he wouldn't live another month?

Here's why I wanted to tell you about Lester. He was always cheerful no matter how he felt. I think it was his great faith in God which always had him in a good mood, always put that twinkle in his blue eyes and that delight in his smile when he first caught your eye. Lester never made you feel guilty for not calling. Every once in a while, you'd get a card. The card would be for Christmas or Easter, or your birthday, or just tell you how much he liked you. I'd thank him at church, take him to lunch from time to time and I'd send him a Christmas card, too. But, did I do enough? Do we ever?

In honor of my dear buddy, Lester, I'm asking you to do something I need to better learn: "Reach out and touch someone". If something inside tells you to call someone, call. If you get an inclination to write, write. Lester's twinkle in his eye, his cheerful "Hi, Z!", his three piece suit even on a hot summer day, his dapper hat and cane........I'll never forget any of those things, but did he know I loved him? I hope so. Obviously, at 94, I knew Lester wouldn't be around for years, but would I have done more had I known his days were quite so numbered? Sure, I would have. Except I can't now.

Do something nice for your Lester. In honor of mine. Thanks.

z