January 13: I'm in San Francisco. Here's why: I'd just come out of the
gym with Charlie after meeting with Kim, a personal trainer and climbed
into the car, when my cell phone went off. It was my nephew David in
San Francisco, in tears, blurting out that his dad was dead. Steve was
my old college roommate whom I introduced to my little sister many
years ago. I guess I never really forgave him when he started dating
her, not until after they were married, had a couple of kids, and
settled in bucolic Tiburon, California. Anyway, Joan was driving him to
the doctor's office after he'd been complaining about a numb arm and
indigestion and chest pain for some time. Joan dropped him at the door
because he looked awful and she had to park fairly far away When
she got herself into the waiting room he was in the throes of a massive
coronary, 911 was called, two doctors were doing CPR when the ambulence
arrived, and all were off to a local hospital. Steve never regained
conciousness and was pronounced a little while later. Everyone was in
shock and that's when the call came to me. Now we're waiting
for Tuesday when we'll have a gathering of friends and family at a
local restaurant to share memories and say good-bye. It's been a very long three days for all.