Rest in peace my friend

My friend died yesterday and I'm heart broken.

Steve and I have been friends for 30 years. We met when we both worked for the sheriff's department and we immediately became friends, as the years passed our friendship blossomed into a much deeper brother/sister type of relationship.

We supported each other through marriages and divorce, birth of children and death of parents. He teased me about being a bleeding heart, I teased him about having no heart...but he did...he had an amazing heart.

Steve can best be described in one word...SALTY.  He could - and did - cuss like a sailor, he was outspoken and at times crass.  He had the most hysterical dry sense of humor.  He didn't entertain fools and if he took a dislike to someone there was absolutely nothing that could change his mind, but if you were one of the lucky few he allowed into his heart, he loved you with every fiber of his being.

I was blessed to be one of the lucky ones.

Steve was a cop, one of the best I ever worked with although I often teased him about being a "shit magnet." He loved sitting with the "fucking rookies" (as he called them), telling tale after tale of his law enforcement career.  New guys would sit with their mouths gaping open in amazement, listening to all he'd done over the years.  That man was one of the best story tellers ever.

Every conversation I ever had with Steve started with the same four words, "Hey kid, what's up?" My answer was normally, "Nothing old man, what's up with you?" and usually at some point during the conversation I'd nag him about his diabetes.  He'd tell me to stop being a bitch and I'd tell him to stop being an asshole, then we'd both laugh and tell the other we loved them.

When Brandi was diagnosed with diabetes Steve became my go-to guy, my walking, talking diabetes encyclopedia.   During every conversation we've had over the last 8 years he ALWAYS ask how she was, how her numbers were, if she was staying on top of the disease.  More than once he told me to remind her of all his problems...which of course would lead to me telling him to get his head out of his ass and start taking care of himself...and the fight would be on again.

He gave me unflinching support and I gave him the same. 

Steve has been and will always be part of my life.  I miss him so badly I want to scream, but instead I'll honor his memory by continue what I've been doing...educate and advocate about this monster we call Diabetes. Steve knew the monster intimately, it almost killed him several times and caused part of his foot to be amputated.  He hated diabetes, hated the shots and finger pricks, the effect it had on his body and his spirit.

When I talked to Steve about wanting to participate in the Ride to Cure Diabetes he laughed at me, saying I'd lost my mind and reminding me I wasn't 20 years old. But when the laughter stopped and I explained why I NEEDED to ride, why I NEEDED to do everything I could to find a cure for him and Brandi, and after a moment of silence he told me he understood and thanked me, and from that moment on he supported me 100%.

I miss Steve, it hurts to know I'll never hear his grumpy voice or listen to his stories again.  I will love him and I'll miss him every single day for the rest of my life, and I imagine when it's my time to go and I reach the pearly gates my grumpy friend will be there saying, "Hey kid, what the hell took you so long."

Rest in peace my friend, I take comfort in knowing you'll have no more pain, no more needles and no more suffering.