You slake my thirst when I'm dry. You bring me food when I'm hungry. You bring me reading material when I'm depressed. You share my joy when I'm happy. You've given so much to me and my family, that I can't repay you. There isn't enough time left in my life.
When we speak, your share your comprehensive knowledge of current events, geography, and history with me. You never fail to awe me. When we speak of "the good old days," we laugh and laugh. Together we share our concerns about aging, disease, and friends dying. Together we condemn the anger which has gripped our nation. Together we rip politicians to pieces.
It's been more than 45 years. You've never failed me. In the least. I went drunkenly flying off of I-94 on St. Patrick's Day in Milwaukee in your Chevy. It was totaled. We had the simmering hulk towed to your home. Your first words were, "Was anybody hurt?" We shook our heads. "Good," you said, "let's --- ----."
Later, you gave me a car, the Buick, aka, "The Puke." It died during the winter at State and Main Streets. We just left it there, in the road.
"Thank you" aren't the right words. They can't carry the weight of my debt to you. You go "above and beyond" what I'd expect from a friend. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You have never brought me violence and you always leave in peace. I can't remember an encounter with you that I failed to learn something.
Peace, St. John, peace. May the next twenty years be more productive than the last. May your talents be recognized for the gifts that they are. May your path meet with the sunshine and the love that you deserve.
I love you and I thank you, sir,