Fond Farewell to a Friend
For all of the wonderful things transportation does for us, there is at least one situation where it feels more like a barrier than a liberator. Death.
There is still a large chunk of humanity who may travel but never have an address more than 50 miles from their birthplace. But as transportation systems have developed and mobility a reality for more people, fewer people have lived and died within 50 miles of where they were born. Some cities have thrived with this mobility and others are dying, consider the population movement from rust belt states to southwestern states. For me, I’ve spent more of my life 1500 miles or more away from “home” than at “home.”
When a loved one passes away people just want to be with their loved ones. Death has a very sudden way of making a lot of people feel like they take their personal relationships for granted. When families and friendships no longer span counties but states, countries, and oceans this togetherness is more difficult to accomplish.
Airlines will typically discount fares for those making last minute bookings to attend funerals (they typically request a copy of the death certificate or similar, so you can’t just play this to get cheap airfare), but the financial cost is only one of many. Time is often the greatest challenge, life in one place can rarely go on hold for loss of life in another, not to mention the time it takes to get from one place to another. And, fact is, the person that passed away probably wouldn’t want you to fuss over them so much anyway.
Where distance and transportation are limitations, technology helps fill some of the void. Cheap long distance calling and even Facebook can help forge a substitute for physical togetherness. A close family friend passed away this past weekend. His Facebook page has since become a place for his friends and family to share their thoughts, feelings, and thanks: it allows everyone to eulogize someone they loved regardless of spatial location. It’s not physical togetherness, but I think it’s the next best thing—even if reading through it brings you to tears.
As for the family friend, Howard Doctor, when I had brief stints of living in the Vancouver area in the mid-2000s, Howard was a wonderful friend. We routinely visited the Richmond Night Market, the amateur stand-up comedy night at the Holiday Inn on Broadway, and had evening teas with my grandmother. I last saw him about two weeks ago for breakfast. We went to the Denny’s on Broadway, which wasn’t unlike the Denny’s we used to frequently when he, my dad, and I lived in Orange, California. But in many ways, the story of his friendship is more my dad’s story than my own.
My very best once in a lifetime friend, Howard Charles Doctor passed away on January 6, 2013 of causes not yet determined. His passing was apparently in his sleep. I first met Howard sometime around 1974. We bonded instantly and were best friends all this time. While at times up to a year separated us between contacts, we could pick things up as if we had parted only a day before.
This was especially true when he moved to Orange County, California in the mid 1990s. I followed him there in 2001. Janet and I lived with Howard for 5 months.
In 2003 he returned to Vancouver to be close to his daughter and again we contacted each other maybe once a year until 2010 when I too returned to the Vancouver area. Our friendship picked up immediately and we had Saturday morning breakfast together every Saturday when he was not in China or visiting his folks.
We had breakfast just last Saturday at his regular haunt, Goldstone Bakery on Keefer Street. All seemed well when I dropped him off at his place at 2:30.
The thought never crossed my mind that would the last time I would ever see him.
The last months of his life Howard had found a fantastic place to work called Millson where he did all kinds of work advancing home theatre technology. He was finally making enough money so he ran out of month before he ran out of money. Where he was getting comfortable financially for the first time since he left California in 2003.
Howard Doctor – RIP