I'll call him DK. He was 95, and led a very full life. I'd like to tell you about him a little bit.

DK was born in 1931 into a family of 6 kids. His father died when he was 10 years old, and the 3 older children were sent out to live with farm families close by. This wasn't a foster type situation, it was work - the families needed helping hands around the farm.

He was originally sent to a family that was unkind to him. He never talked about details, but after a few months, this 10 year old boy walked for hours to get back to his mother (who was working at a grocery store in a nearby town). DK told his mother that he wasn't happy, and wasn't being treated well. She managed to find him a similar situation, but with a family that treated him well, like a son. DK was close to this family for as long as they lived.

He worked hard for them, though, and had to get up early every day to milk cows. I can't remember exactly how many they had, but there were lots - it took about an hour and a half to get through them. And that was twice a day. He also worked hard in other areas of the farm, but it was mostly dairy and potatoes.

DK was an optimistic, inventive, and innovative man, who could do EVERYTHING. That's what it seemed like, anyway. On one visit at his home, I admired a creative audio cabinet that fit the space exactly. He had made it, of course. Also, after his wife started having difficulties walking, he got bids on installing a railing on a set of outdoor stairs at his house. The bids came in very high, and he decided to just...do it all himself, at the age of 85, including digging the holes for the posts, pouring concrete, and using piping to make the railing.

He had a sense of humor, and gladly participated in skits, plays, and pranks. In the first car he got, as a teenager, he installed a regular pull-chain living room light bulb right inside the car. Everyone knew a 120-volt house bulb shouldn't work in a car. But he was crafty - he hollowed out the inside of the big bulb and slipped a small 6-volt automotive bulb inside the large bulb. Then when friends got in the car, he'd pull the chain, and the light would turn on. It baffled folks and always got a laugh.

Just last year, when he was 94, his wife passed away. They had a burial plot, but the company that managed the cemetery was going to charge an obscene amount of money to carve his wife's name on the stone, and another obscene amount of money to put her cremated remains there. So he called some stone carving companies, and paid about one twentieth of what the cemetery wanted to charge him. And then DK did an "unofficial" burial of his wife's remains, using a small spade. (They had a separate family memorial service.)

He moved into a retirement community about 4 years ago (his wife had very severe Alzheimers and was in a separate memory care unit). The place was great, he made many friends there and was a favorite. When our family visited and we took a walk around the facility, he would introduce us to everyone we came across, and we'd converse with them.

Last summer, when we visited him on a trip to the city where we were neighbors, I mentioned that he should come visit us. He enthusiastically said that he'd love to come visit us. But I never followed up, not until a few months ago. Then we arranged for him to visit us (his first flight in 10 years!), and hosted him for a while. He was so appreciative! He kept on saying over and over "What a treat it is to be here!". He was enthusiastic about everything, and though he couldn't walk far, he enjoyed everything we were able to show him.

About a month after he visited, he had a nosebleed that just wouldn't stop (probably from blood thinners). He was in the hospital for a week, and then passed away last night.

DK, I will miss you! But I'm also glad that you didn't have a long, painful, drawn out decline, like the parents of many of my friends.

And also, I'm so happy that we actually got to see you again. I would have felt terrible if I hadn't actually (finally) followed through on having you visit.