Mr. Wheatley, you'll be missed.

It seems like forever since I've written anything meaningful. Years ago I used to keep a journal. Whether it was for brainstorming or during travels or just for catharsis, I would write. I was thinking the other day how over the past decade, I don't write. Between marriage and the birth of my children, I have so much inspiration but my "journal entries" are now in the form of photos. These days the thoughts still flow freely yet there is never enough time to put them to paper.

Last weekend started off with our son having a fever that lasted a few days. In the midst of his sweet and sappy meandering about the house, I received a text last Friday evening that my friend's father was in the hospital and was not doing well.

Heather and I met on the first day of high school over 20 years ago and struck up a lasting friendship since then. Over the last 2 decades, I'd spoken with her father, Mr. Wheatley, maybe a few dozen or so times. Every time we spoke, he was just one of the guys. I remember even as a kid in high school upon calling his house, he took a genuine interest in my seemingly unimportant life. Whether it was at our graduation parties, baptisms, weddings or summer outings, he was the guy who always hung with the rest of us and shot the breeze. And while the subjects were never remarkable, they were memorable. He would phase right into the conversation and always had a way of making us feel so comfortable and at home. In short, he was always a class act and one that most folks looked up to.

On Saturday morning, Mr. Wheatley joined the cast and crew of that ensemble we call Heaven. Needless to say, we all mourn his loss. He was blessed with a great family and likewise, his family was blessed to have him.

I sped out of my office this evening to try and make the last few minutes of the wake. Heather, her husband and her brothers Glenn and Darryl saw me and caught me up on things. Everyone's been sick, fevers, colds, coughs and all the nonsense that makes winter so vexatious. While talking, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a large flower arrangement with......a pair of tiny toy 747's on it??!?!!

I interrupted Glenn and asked why there were jets on this beautiful large purple and yellow floral arrangement. Without getting into the finer details, suffice it is to say that Mr. Wheatley was also an aviation enthusiast, much like myself. Darryl had told me about how just last year they paid a visit to the Cradle of Aviation and how he loved it. Some of his photos on display showed him posed in front of a Grumman warbird whilst another showed him at a very young age in a black and white print, perhaps 9 years old, holding a toy B17 bomber.

I was surprised and somewhat saddened to hear about our shared passion so late. I also learned that he had worked on the first lunar excursion module as well. Although his passion for our shared hobby ran deep, never did it come up in conversation with us. But that was just his way....for whatever the subject that was on the table, Mr. Wheatley had the knack for joining in and making all the more enjoyable.

The last time I saw him was at a gathering for his granddaughter, a few blocks from my home. Always up for good conversation, he came over to say hello as I was feeding my growing boy between his running around. He gave me a few observations, never tips or advice, on parenting and his experiences. Above all, his point was to enjoy the moments. That it all goes fast but not if you pause to enjoy it.

Mr. Wheatley's final departure from this world may inspire some to savor each moment with their loved ones. While that is true, I also pause to remember the passing of another great guy and just one of the boys.

Thanks Mr. Wheatley. You'll be missed.