Life Is Precious

I'm at the age where death isn't some far off concept, but something that lurks around every corner.

Every day, it seems like some aging rock star, actor or athlete from our generation passes. Last week it was Sly Stone, Lou Christie, and Dave Parker.

Closer to home, two men long associated with Stanford football--passionate booster Frank Atkinson and former assistant coach/administrator Scott Schuhmann--both died recently and had memorials last week. 

Schuh's was on the bluff at Half Moon Bay, Frank's at Jimmy V's in the Stanford Athletic Department. Lots of former players turned out for both.

Then, on Friday, I got a totally unexpected gut punch. I learned that Tony deGrassi, one of my dearest friends for over 50 years, had died from complications of back surgery.

What was supposed to be a routine outpatient procedure suddenly went south, and Tony passed on Wednesday. His wife, Maura, two sons, sister and brother were with him.

I've now lost two of my best friends in the last year. (My BFF Bill Skinner died suddenly last July).

Funny, I'd been feeling sorry for myself because of the auto-immune heart condition, cardiac sarcoidosis, I've been dealing with for the past three months. The side effects from 31 pills a day have been somewhat debilitating.

But now Tony's gone. Bill's gone. They're out of my life forever. And they leave huge voids that are impossible to fill.

Fortunately, Christy and I spent a couple of days in Napa with Tony and Maura last month. A trip Tony planned and initiated. It was a wonderful weekend we'll always remember and cherish. We'd planned to make it an annual event.

Christy and Maura were roommates their senior year at San Jose State. We clicked with her and Tony immediately and have been close friends ever since. He and I shared interests in '70s music, politics, the Giants, the 49ers, and good Zinfandel.

Tony was a special guy. A remarkable man. A wonderful husband and father. He worked for Kaiser Permanente in Oakland for over 30 years, where everyone loved him.

As well they should. You couldn't find a nicer, kinder, more generous and giving soul.

He will be missed by all who knew him.

I have no profound words of wisdom to impart here.

But with each unexpected passing, several things have become more obvious. 

Life is short. Life is precious. Like the Don Henley song says, "everything can change, in a New York minute."

Enjoy every day. Live each day like it could be your last. 

And make it a point to tell your loved ones how much they mean to you. You never know when it'll be your last opportunity to do so.