Phil & Kathy

It’s strange when someone you know dies. My grandfather died when I was young.  My grandmother died when I was younger- I don’t really remember her.  I’ve seen various people die on tv and movies… but I have yet to have someone that I’ve couchsurfed with die… until 2 days ago.  Couch #9 passed away. It -like most things – made me think.  The people we interact with have their own lives, but we can impact those lives.  Sometimes a smile at a stranger is enough– or a dirty look.  I tweeted this quote by Brandi Snyder the other day:

“To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world.”

I’m not saying that I was the world to Phil, but at least I know I brought some joy to his life. I fixed his computer (which could not get on the internet), I taught him and his fiancee how to do a few things on the internet, and then there were the personal things…. My photos were the very first photos ever taken of him and his fiancee together.  They never had any photos to send their families and friends, and the first ones they got were fun professional ones (I’ll post those at the end of this writing).  The other thing that I did was provide a little bit of hope and interaction, as his son is a good friend of mine, and they have a big rift between them.  I provided a little bit of insight as to what his son was up to… and I let him tell me all sorts of “Back in the day” stories.  This was in 2007, in Houston, Texas.  I was heading there to attend a photography workshop, and had no place to stay.  My friend connected me with Phil.

Phil and Kathy did end up getting married.  I am glad he had that joy in his life.  He died quickly from what I understand.  He was at a physical therapy place, when he went down… he died on the way to the ER.

This is the difficult part. Trying to stay honest– being a reporter of sorts. Someone dies, and you’re supposed to leave flowers, and celebrate their lives…  but are you supposed to bring up the bad stuff?  This, again, is why I’m so happy that my interactions – though only 3 days in length – were happy and helpful ones.

Later in life, Phil was a teacher / school administrator.  When I asked his son about him today, I was told that he’s had numerous jobs.  When I asked what the  coolest one was, he said that Phil used to work at NASA.  He was a personnel director there (in charge of hiring), back in the Apolo mission days, and he’d bring home all sorts of cool things— mission patches, posters, etc…

Phil had 4 children, from 2 ex-wives. Not all of them were that close to him, though.  My friend said that as a father, Phil had zero redeeming qualities. That’s pretty harsh, as it was over the last few months hearing that he’s in the hospital, and not doing well, and that his kids mostly don’t care.  “He didn’t take care of himself- no one made him smoke and drink, and he brought everything onto himself.”  Phil had seemed to want to connect with his sons as far as I could tell…. but it seemed like the ash on the bridges that were burnt was thick and cold by now. He also hadn’t taken care of his health- he had smoked cigarettes for much fo his life, and drank a lot of alcohol – even in his later years.  He had apparently developed diabetes from that, but hadn’t told anyone in the family.  Wo knows what other problems were caused bythe smoking/drinking/etc that he hadn’t told people about.

I’m sure that Kathy had found some redeeming qualities in him, as they seemed cute and happy together, and they got married.  I am happy he had someone to care for him and worry for him on his final moments. I’d like to think that I would have someone at my side (unless of course I spaltter in a ball of adrendline on one of my adventures).  I told my Dad today that I would be there for his funeral, and by his side, no matter what… that he’s been such a great father, and there’s nothing he could do to alienate me that much. I suppose we are lucky like that… my brothers and I are close… and we’re all close with our parents.  We do of course all piss each other off, but we know that we care. We’ve actually been terrible at saying “I love you” – though over the last 5 years I’ve tried to stick it in more letters and voicemails, and as the phone’s about to hang up.  The family has followed the example.  It’s still clumsy, but we say it.  At least we all know it.  We’ve never questioned it.

Where-ever you are, Phil., I hope you’re happy.

I have a tiny bit of video of Phil, which I’ll try to post tomorrow… but in the meantime, here’s the photos I took of him and Kathy– the very 1st photos they ever had together.