Mitchell

I like to think that you were really happy when Idriss and I moved to Sea Cliff. Not only were we close to you, but you no longer had to go into the city to visit us. Major break for you! It was easy to pop down after a game of golf rather than setting aside the whole day for a trip into the city.

The first time you came over to our new house, we had been here just a few days, definitely less than a week. It was a total mess, with the painters things still around and half of our furniture in the basement, to allow the painters to work.

Even so, you inspected the whole place - attic, doors, back deck structure, the basement, heating systems, etc. And you asked about the neighbors, and then you told Idriss and me:

"I've already met Mitchell."
"Um, who?"
"Mitchell. You know, the kid playing basketball down the street a bit."
"Actually, I didn't know, but I have seen him around."
"Nice kid. Very friendly and polite, shook my hand and introduced himself."

Dad, I don't even know how you got to know the neighbors names before we did, but it doesn't surprise me. You took the time to get to know everyone.

Growing up, we used to grown and poke fun, but you always asked a waiter or waitress for their name, and once you had it you proceeded to address them by name throughout the meal. We used to think you were such a dork! But I see now that what I thought was dorky was really just plain old kindness and consideration.

In the hospital, you knew every single nurse by name, and if you couldn't remember, you asked. When you were moved into intensive care, a number of nurses who'd cared for you actually came to visit you. Sometimes you were asleep and didn't get to speak to them, but I had more than one nurse tell me that they had gone home and prayed for you - that you were one of the kindest and most grateful patients they'd ever had. You were sick, miserable, in pain, but you still took the time to get to know your nurses.

The last night you were in the hospital, the night before you passed away, when the "chemo nurse" came to administer your treatment, you were trying really hard to ask her something and we couldn't understand what you wanted to say, because of that horrible oxygen mask you had on. Finally I realized what you wanted to know: the chemo nurse's name.

I am terrible at remembering names, but I can say to you honestly that I will try harder in that regard. I miss you, Dad.
xx