Somberly, the young mother held the new born babe in her hands. Tears streaked her weathered face as the doctor told her the horrible news. Their baby had cystic fibrosis, and the chances of this surviving even a few years were very slim. A distraught mother, she didn’t know what to do. So she would just make the most of the time she would have with her baby. But things didn’t quite work out the way the doctor had told her.
For as the baby grew older; he didn’t grow weaker; but stronger. He started elementary school and was like any normal child. He loved to play outside, had the usual childhood diseases, there was nothing unusual about him. But the doctor warned his mother, please don’t be fooled by this, sometimes this disease goes into remission. He could go at any time. She thought to herself, and in the meantime, am I supposed to sit around and worry? No, the doctor is wrong, and my boy will live a long life. Sometimes a mother’s instinct is overpowering.
And when he started high school, he made everyone laugh. He was a member of the Drama club, and never played the straight man part, it simply didn’t fit. He was also President of the Chess Club, a passion of his. No one knew about his disease, he didn’t feel it was important. Than just as a general chat, he said, “you know, according to the doctors, I should be dead by now”. He explained to us what happened and said, “well, the devil ain’t got me yet!” Never will, either.
Time went by, he said good-bye to all his friends. He went to college on a Drama Scholarship he had obtained. Soon, he became an actor, we were all proud of him as we could be, but he would say I haven’t changed, I’m just plain old me…and I’m not dead yet either.
Years flew by, I was sure I’d never see him again. Finally after so many years, the disease must have gotten to him. I thought about his silly ways, and thought how fortunate I was to have had such a friend. Even though he was supposed to die as a child, dying in your 20s was quite young.
Several years later, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was on our 20th high school reunion; he was sitting in a bean bag chair. He hadn’t changed a bit! The man didn’t even age. He saw me from across the room, smiled and said with his fake Mexican accent, “Pretty lady, don’t look like that, come here and give me a hug!” He had cheated death again! The man would live forever.
But eventually, it would catch him. We lost track of each other once more, until a web site called classmates.com came out. We began emailing each other for several years. Than I noticed the emails were getting fewer and farther between. He wrote me when he was strong enough and explained that he was now wearing an oxygen tank and was at the hospital most of the time. He still had his humor though. He wore the oxygen tank on his back, and claimed he felt like George Jetson! We both knew that now his “cheating death” was coming to an end. He told me, “I don’t have much longer, I know that, but I’m 45, and was supposed to go long ago, so I’ll look at the grim reaper and say, “well, what took you so long?"
When Howard finally passed away, everyone grieved for their terrible loss. But somehow I could imagine him with his hands folded saying that very thing.
In Memory of Howard Cook – “Mr. Personality”
1956- 2001
Mary E. Lacey
2009
