I just spoke with my husband a little while ago. A very good friend of his, the man who helped finance his trip north, died two days ago at the age of 26. He left behind a wife and two kids. He apparently had severe diabetes and had been aware of his condition for many years. Despite this knowledge, he continued to eat as he pleased, party, and drink. I do not know if this was pure recklessness on his part, or if he lacked the education on his condition to understand that with this disease, he could no longer live the same as his friends.
He had lapsed into a diabetic coma last weekend. My husband visited him in the hospital at that time. It was the last time he saw his friend alive; thanks to the pay system at my husband’s work, he was delayed today so long that he missed the funeral.
I never met him. I will never have the chance to thank him for providing the opportunity for me to meet my husband.