My last post was an attempt to be upbeat about a very grim subject. That was Sept. 6, and on Sept. 13, Gil died. I did go right down to the water and help push the boat off. I said to him, “I’m sorry to see you go, but many people love you, and God is with you.” Gil’s right eyelid twitched and I saw just a little eye. Minutes later, Gil’s boat had pushed off to the next dimension. Later that day, I remembered how, when Gil would do something just a little more outrageous than usual, he would catch you looking at him. Then his eyes would literally twinkle—how I loved that twinkle in his eye—and he would say, “Well, I’m a Gemini, and you’re just seeing a little bit of that hidden side of me!” I think I still saw a little of that twinkle in his eye the last time we communicated on this earth.
My good buddy, Gil, may be dying. He is getting worse each day, fighting a rare, mysterious neurological disorder. I’ve been with him every other day for the last several weeks except the week I went on vacation. It has been at the same time a great and an impossibly difficult experience. Unless he starts to get better, we are down at the end of the road, feeling the cold breath from the Other Side. Gil was being brave and hiding the seriousness of his illness from us all, but since he was admitted to the hospital weeks ago, his good friend Bill, myself, and many others have done our best to stand by his side. Today his rector and people from his church went and prayed with him. What God wills will happen; so be it.