TIME TO SAY “I LOVE YOU”
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In the end, it comes down to that.
Some folks think the worst things about growing older are losing good health or losing good looks. For me, it’s losing all those wonderful friends on the e-mail directory. The older we get, the more often we find ourselves removing folks from the list. These last two years have been particularly sad as I’ve eulogized three and lost a half dozen others, all far too premature.
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This past week, we attended the grave side service of a close friend of more than twelve years. We had lunch with Marvin Schild and his devoted wife, Jean, just two months ago in New Smyrna Beach. A champion tennis player on the senior circuit, Marvin gleefully announced that doctors had pronounced his cancer in full remission. The remission didn’t last long. He was 79.
A past president of the Florida Bar Association, Marvin was also a former municipal judge and city attorney who practiced many years in the Miami area before moving to Maggie Valley, N.C. where we met. He was a delight to argue with, me on the right, he on the left. We dispelled the old adage that the twain shall never meet, because it did on many occasion. Often, he awakened me to the logic of a different position, while he maintained an open mind to my points of view.
Marvin Schild was a deeply caring person who always pulled for the underdog. I will miss him deeply. I only wish he had known that. Shoulda told him when I had the chance.
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Jim Duckworth (Jimmie Dee) and I attended the police academy together in 1960. This man was not only a great cop, but a vigorous stalwart for police officers in general. We worked Homicide together through the early 1970s and remained good friends for life. An ardent athlete, it seemed nothing would ever bring him down. But it did. I visited him just hours before he passed and whispered into his ear, “Love you, Jimmie.” He was 74.
Jim Duckworth left behind three grown kids and grandkids who also adored him, and of course, his devoted wife, Fran.
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I met Don Argo at a book signing in Melbourne in 2003. We became instant friends. Not to be deceived by a deep Arkansas drawl, Don was one of the most respected math teachers ever at a local college. Because of his unquenchable thirst for knowledge, some folks called him a genius. His tenacious research was evident upon reading his historical novel, “Canaveral Light,” which told of the early settling on the eastern shores of Florida after the Civil War. We critiqued each others work head-on, voraciously.
Like Jim Duckworth, I visited Don just hours before he passed. He sputtered his final words to me from the edge of a bed, “Don’t … forget … to finish Orville T. Madison.” (Protagonist’s name in my new novel) To the end, he thought about others. He, too, left behind four children that loved him and devoted wife, Kathy.
Privileged to be called his friend, Don Argo was a man who I admired greatly. Damn, I shoulda told him that when I had the chance.
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George Gilbert Reincke and I were juvenile delinquents together in the 1950s, and never ended our buddy relationship over 55 years of trials and tribulations, dual police careers, broken marriages and plenty of wild days and evenings, some too racy to tell about here. George and I were always there for each other during tough times, much like brothers would be.
We were on the golf course in the North Carolina mountains in the summer of 1985 when he started feeling sick. Diagnosis: Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. He went in and out of remission several times during the next 22 years, before the cancer finally won the battle. My wife and I were at his bedside when he passed, along with his ex-wife, Bobbie. George was 68, leaving behind two grown daughters who he cherished.
I really loved that guy. Damn…why didn’t I tell him when I had the chance?
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The beat goes on.
Harry Wendler, top cop and long time administrator with an acerbic sense of humor and wicked golf swing, passed away last year. Delete.
Gary Arbeiter, old high school chum, died suddenly on Father’s Day at age 70. Thank goodness we had a reunion among the old gang two years ago. Delete.
Ray Eggler, stand-up cop and former Homicide detective who worked with and for me during the 1960s and 70s. A hard worker and strong supporter of the PBA, Ray was always there for those who needed him. Delete.
Mike Hammerschmidt, J. B. Johnson, Art Hill, John Coogan, Bill Sampson…all good cops who I worked with over a period of thirty years, have passed in the last two. Delete.
Ray Beck, former Marine, trained me to be a homicide detective in 1966. He was one of those “do it right, or don’t do it at all” people. In later years, Ray worked under my command. Twas most uncomfortable, me supervising Ray Beck. He fought lung cancer for many years. I received a surprise call one day when I was living in North Carolina. Obviously in great pain, Ray struggled to speak. “Just…wanted…to… tell you…you were like a son to me. I love you. Goodbye.” Three days later, he was gone. Raymond J. Beck, class act. Delete.
Say it, folks. Utter those words. Regardless of sex, political leanings, religion or color, let those people who are especially close to your heart, know how you really feel. While you can. You may wish you had.
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That dreaded key.
I have, I do and I will.
Marshall you are so right.
Have to say that it is difficult to delete the names of friends and coworkers from your mailing list. I knew all the ones on your list that worked at old PSD/MDPD. I talkes with the Frog sometime ago (he is still hanging in there) and we agreed that the old gang was slowly slipping away.
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Great tribute to some great men and exceptional policemen. Mutual friends, gone but not ever to be forgotten.
Some great stories Marshall. I too have lost many of the same friends without having the opportunity to say goodbye. Really struck a chord with some of them. We live in our own little worlds, with our own little problems, and fail to realize that there are people out there that we really care about until it is too late. Thanks for the wake up call, friend.
Thanks Marshall! I love ya like the big bro. I lost to cancer 8/16/2003! This is a
timely blog, on what really matters most.
I have been blessed in life, to learn the
hard way, the great value of forgiveness.
Most of us, who are so blessed in any way to learn this great truth, do so the hard way. For an easier way, may I suggest >
“THE FOUR THINGS THAT MATTER MOST”
by Ira Byock, M.D., Palliative Care
http://www.thefourthings.org/
I love you MArshall!!!
I did not say your comment is awaiting moderation…where did that come from???? I only said I love you!!!
You are a caring guy… I treasure your sentiments. Arthur
Your are a caring guy and I treasure your sentiments though I didn’t know these men. Arthur
Great one Marshall.
Your story is exacting. I learned some of the same a few years ago when I lost a dear friend and remembred that I had never told him what he meant to me or how much he was loved….too proud to say the words I guess.
That has now changed forver and I suggest, as your doing, to evryone….if you have people around you that you care about, tell them so many times over.
A touching tribute to your friends, Marshall… But they knew you loved them all along.
Current thinking dictates you must tell everyone you love them all the time, and whine and whine if things go wrong. Not true, by my lights.
Maybe it’s the old New England Yankee upbringing, but I don’t feel the need to tell someone, who I obviously love, that I love them.
Also,as you know, having lost my only child, my beloved son, young and ditto for my father, though not quite as young, I don’t consider dying over sixty or even fifty a major tragedy. Under fifty, yes. But a loss nevertheless.
I say to myself, the older ones got a chance to live their lives. My son never even got the chance to have the children he wanted and realize his dreams, gifted as he was.
Of course, being a mother, I told my child I loved him when he was a child, but he was a young adult when he died, so I didn’t, really. It was understood. The last time I saw him, and I thought he was going to make it,(well, my mind thought so, but my heart was worried) he was chatting to his father, my husband, and going off to bed. I put my hand on his back and he turned and hugged me. We didn’t need to say anything. Our love was conveyed.
My grandmother never kissed me. But the way she said, dear, or put her hand on my shoulder, made me feel her love. My father made me feel love when he held me and kissed me. And when he slept with me after I had one of my many, monster-under-the-bed nightmares. Even though I invariably peed all over him for his trouble.
You don’t need to say it. Love shows. You don’t need to feel guilty, if you don’t say it. Love is something you feel, it conveys itself.
Again you made me cry… .beautiful.
We are on the same page with this, Marshall. In February I lost a friend who lived in Las Vegas. She was 90. She and I had taught school there in the ’60’s, and had remained friends ever since. I last saw her when we took a cruise together in 2004, bt called back and forth after that.
I think the first time we become aware of death of our friends is when we have high school class reunions. I remember that two of our classmates died in the first year after graduation. I think it is sadder when one dies so young. Our last reunion was in 1996, and I think out of a class of 74 (small town!) there were about 50 left. I still am in touch with one–she and I walked to school together from 1934 to 1946!
In March I lost a friend in Michigan I used to stay with when I was driving up there each summer. In May one of my college sorority sisters died. Yes, we have reached the age when we have to expect this. We can be happy that we are able to get up and see the light of each day, but we do feel sad about those friends who didn’t.
You got that right Marshall! Say it now, or forever keep your peace and in fact, you may have to keep it to yourself forever!
However, I would go one further step. Say that now, or say whatever it is you need to say to that person. Be it good, or bad. You never know if you will have the chance and the regret for not having said it, will always come back to hunt you. Believe me, I know! I have been there.
Life is but a blink of an eye,One day we are born,one day we die I pray we all say those magic words I Love you.Thank you for being my friend.
Like you, I’ve seen far too many wonderful friends pass without having told them I love them. I was always told I was too serious about everything,i.e., work, simple everyday tasks, and yes…games. I don’t apologize for being that way, as I believe I was, but I do believe we become ourselves based on on past, whether good or bad. I deal with losing the Harry Wendlers, Jimmy Duckworths, Don Jettons,and many others, by not removing them from my email address book, or my phone directory. Unfortunately, very few of these people did I get to tell I love them. They all had some impact on my life and they are not to be forgotten. Thanks for your article.
Frank, my wonderful wife and I decided the first of the year to find a comfortable, pleasant home where we could retire, and have somebody else to take care of all the little duties that kept us so busy. We found one, and moved in on January 15. She, to my great surprise and despair, died on February 2. I have been alone since. It’s a nice community, but nothing makes up for the loss of her company after 62 delightful and loving years together. Please remember us from time to time when you have a quiet time alone. There are so few worthwhile tings I have been able to find to do alone.
Sincerest regards, Joe Haymes
Marshall, Good topic. We have all had to ‘edit’ our address books from time to time and it seems as we get older the editing becomes more frequent. Certainly one of life’s regrets that carries the most personal impact is a friend passing away before we can tell them how much they mean to us and how they influenced our lives. regretfully, I stand guilty and “wish I had.”
HEY MARSH,
A NICE REMINDER TO ALL OF US, I DO TELL THE
PEOPLE I LOVE THAT I LOVE THEM, BUT NOT ENOUGH.
THANKS MARSH
PS I LOVE YOU
Marshall…I knew them all myself, save one,howhever not as long nor as close as you did. I had the opportunity to share a few words with some of them by long distance phone calls towards the end. Again, not having known them for the number of years that you have, I was pleasantly surprised at the uplifting that I got from them as I thought that they would not remember me as vividly as they did. Great ROLL CALL.
True and great advice. I knew many of these wonderful frinds you mentioned.
Jack
BRAVO MARSHALL, IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN SAID BETTER. WE ALL SEEM TO BE TAKEN UP SO MUCH WITH WORLD EVENTS AND OUR OWN PERSONAL LIVES THAT SOMETIMES WE DON’T TELL OUR FRIENDS THAT WE LOVE THEM, HAVE ALWAYS ADMIRED THEM AND HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO US UNTIL IT’S TOO LATE.
ALL FOUR OF MY BROTHERS HAVE PASSED AWAY AND MY REGRET IS THAT I WASN’T WITH ANY OF THEM AT THOSE LAST MOMENTS TO LET THEM KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVED THEM..
I try to keep up with the living and remember those that I have loved and lived with as the backbone of my life, YOu are one of those that I know among the living that I shall not forget.
Wow. Good one Marshall.
What is life without good friends.
You are right on target Marshall! I love you and all those you mentioned that I didn’t take the opportunity to say those three very important words.
Dear Marshall…you have made me cry so many times in these last 10 years, and I am so proud of your publications and that I had a chance to edit one of your novels (always remember your phone conversation and asking me, “What in the hell is a dangling participle?”)
So here it comes…I love you, Marshall, for your courage, your reasoning skills, good sense, your sentiments, and your tenacity.
Sara
I learned very early on in life just how precious life is. I have watched people die violently and suddenly. (some good guys, some bad guys) I have watched friends and family struggle with long term illness.
I recently lost a very dear friend, George Warner. He was diagnosed with cancer and passed 37 days later. In a long distance phone conversation we talked of days gone by, describing things in great detail. Towards the end of that conversation, he thanked me for briefly taking away the pain and making him forget the inevitable, which we also talked about. Not an easy conversation but one of the most important. Two years prior to this we saw George and he visited us in our motor home. Unknown to us, he always wanted to drive a “big rig” diesel. He got his wish that day, we even took some pictures. In his final days he often talked of that moment and how it was a highlight in his life. Unknown to us, even though it was two years prior to his diagnosis, those would be the last realy good pictures of him. His wife placed those pictures on his casket and they are currently on the mantel over the fireplace, as a reminder of good times.
The point is, you never know, something so seemingly insignificant, a conversation, a picture, a fishing trip, etc., can have a lasting effect beyond comprehension.
Life is what happens when you are making other plans. You have the choice to get up in the morning and look at all the negative or look at the glass as half full, now how can I fill it up with positive things. Your choice, we have all seen the ultimate. Now go out and enjoy life to its fullist, you don’t get a second chance.
Marshall dear friend~ I treasure your sensitivity and sentimental side, it shows great strength in you. Thanks for sharing your heartfelt connection for these wonderful men. Some of them I was honored to know and some I was not blessed to meet. I am sure if they were as fortunate as my late Jimmy D to have you as a friend, they were indeed the lucky ones!
It is so easy to let time pass us bye and loose contact with friends and sometimes, even family. Don’t feel bad you didn’t say I love you; it’s not to late to say it! Tell those they left behind that they loved. Sometimes friends that pass our way are just for a season. Maybe why they became our friend wasn’t solely for what we shared with them, but, for the relationships that offspring from those great lives.
I love you, though only three words, at times seem to be the last to verbally express. Men more than women are guarded in speaking them in conjunction with their feelings. My motto is; if you feel it say it, they work in unison, and it makes a better impact expressing what’s inside your heart.
I am certainly on board with one and… Marshall and Suzette, “I love you both!” Your friendship is worth gold bars.
To the wives and families of these great men left behind … “I love you all!”
Let me take the time to use your great article to say something to Jim and my great children: “Debbie, Russell, Jim., Eric, Ivan, Desirea, and all of our six Grandchildren “you have stolen my heart and I love you all to the moon and back!”
PS< I am arranging to dine with the late Ray
<3
Eggler's wife, Winnie today! I'll share your article with her. If you don't mind I'll tell her you send your love.
Thanks again Marshall for your tribute and sediments. Wonderful article, your best work yet!
Marshall
I have often said that I never planned on living this long, It really hurts when you lose friends that you never said those three words to. If you ever come over to the Chattanooga area get in touch, this ones on me.
Dick
Wow! I almost forgot to include my son Evan in my last comment. Better to be last anyway, you finish stronger. Evan… “I love you to the moon and back and then another trip more!”
I lost so many relatives and friends that I now count only the ones still living. My HS buddies are 65% gone now. Such is the life.
Marvin’s demise surprised me, specially after you saw him only recently! My wife is still holding on.
Marshall……You’ve done it again; just by being the class act guy you are. Thanks for the reminder. This one is for you, Dr. Joe Davis & others…..I love you.
I knew all of the PSD/MDPD people you mentioned, but sorry to say I did not keep in touch with any of them. Cancer does not just take people our age. I lost my 44 year old son-in-law to cancer. And one of my walking buds just learned that his 50 year old son has terminal cancer.
My prayer list is getting too long.
Hey Matshall Thanks for being a mentor to me; both you and George were / are great leaders both of you taught me a lot; even though at the times I thought you both were real asses. But what did I know I was a rookie cop and you guys were in your thirties and old; I was in my twenties and knew everything about cop work. Ha ha
My respect and admiration to all you mentioned that have passed.
I love you.
David
A wonderful walk down memory lane.Especially at this point in time we can’t take things, circumstances or people for granted. Being in Bradenton I don’t have the opportunity to see much of my police family. My daughter, Elisa, lets me know when she talks with someone I know and I love having her relay their greetings. Priceless memories of priceless people.
You softened your heart for this one – a real yogi moment. May I share it with Bobbie?
Good advice. My advice to you is leave those friends/loved ones on your contact list. When you scroll your list and see their names you’ll have your memories.
I agree with Phil about keeping friend’s names and addresses that have passed. I use it as a memory tool and at my age I need one.
Thanks, Marshall, for the nice remembrance of some very good people. This started a few days of discussion of others my husband and I have known from PSD and MDPD, then the talk branched off to other friends in our lives. I am not one to say I love you to anyone but family. My help, and concern comes from respect and caring for the person I offer it to.
Oh well……here it goes….I LOVE YOU….to all those I have really, really liked and will never know I said that. Wow…that didn’t hurt at all.
Ellen
In Sunday School, as wee children, we sang, “Praise him, praise him, all the little children….God is Love, God is Love”…..so it seems that the closest we may ever get to the concept of what God is may be just that. Love.
It’s Sunday and I’m putting together some marketing stuff for the coming week. All alone in the house, emotionless, just thinking about what I need to do tomorrow while collating the material. I open your e-mail, haven’t had a chance since it arrived. Suddenly, tears are running down my face as I read about those whom you have lost, your admonition to say, “I love you” and I realize how many more are gone from my life, as well, this last year.
I haven’t seen Gary Arbeiter since 1962. I was in club with Harvey and him in high school. We roomed together at Gainesville for a semester. I remember him as a big goofy kid and he’s gone now at age 70. Gary could never be 70! He is 22 in my mind’s eye and maybe that is a reason for my tears.
Whether we have seen each other often enough to accept our gradual aging, like Harvey and you, or only through pictures, like you and me, we hold within us the memories of our youthful selves. We mourn for those we lose and what they have lost in dying, but I believe that we mourn our loss of what that person meant to us, and what the void created by their loss will mean to us. Finally, I believe that we mourn for ourselves, at our momentary glimpse of our own mortality at the death of one dear to us. Maybe the funeral reception, the wake, the shiva is so that we don’t mourn alone. It is so terribly lonely to mourn alone, alone with our thoughts.
I have a far deeper relationship with you now since you “found” me electronically a decade or so ago than I had with you when we were dopey boys a half century and more ago.
Let us stay here as long as we are able and share our lives as best we can. The Boys of Summer, Peter Pan, “Golden days in the sunshine of our happy youth”, etc.
I love you, Marshall.
Not much of a vagabond anymore.
Marsh, As always, you are right on point. I also knew and loved all of those that you mentioned, and you are correct when we say how much they meant to us..Ray Beck is a clasic example. He broke me in as a rookie cop with the old Dade Cty Police in the mid ’50s. We then worked together, years later, in homicide.
All the others thAt you mentioned, were all known and well liked by me. Most of them, at one time or another, I tried to let them know haw much I appreciated their friendship and how much I enjoyed working with them. Now I know I should have told them that I loved them like a brother, or sisteI just turned 80 last month, so I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be with you. Therefore, I want you and all of my other old friends, I LOVE YOU ALL!!!! And Marsh, some oof my most enjoyable times was when you and I would leave early and head to Doral for a round of golf. Also, I love you for introduching me to Chinwese Special Soup!! We have a chinese restauraant here in a small Georgia town who makes it on a par with Miami’s. I consider you one of my dear friends and will till the day I die.
So, to you, Sosanne, and all of my old comareds, I LOVE YOU ALL…so, to all of you, LIVE LONG AND PROSPER! And who knows, we may actually meet again some where, some day.
Are you a professional journalist? You write very well.
Marshall–If you truly love a person, or highly respect him, your heart will tell you when it is the right time to say “I love you.” Then, those words will not seem out of place or inappropriate. It’s always a good idea to brighten up another person’s day.