Dear Richard

Dear Richard,

I was devasted to read Ellen's post regarding the time you have left. I can't imagine what it must be like for someone to tell you that you have a finite amount of time left. When I was diagnosed, I knew right from the beginning that it was treatable and curable and never had to really worry about the kind of news that you got.

I can only guess as to what's important to you right now, but I think I have a pretty good idea. You have raised a great family and have shared your married life with a loving, caring woman. You have touched their lives in more ways than anyone will ever know, but you should know that there are others who have taken lessons from you as well.

I remember one thing inparticular that I will take from you. When we were younger (a lot younger), there was a dance at the hall up at the ballfields. I can't remember if you were there as a chaperone or just a parent, but I remember that you were there. Ann was there too, and when a slow dance song came on, some people danced and others didn't. Ann wanted to dance, but most of us boys were too busy trying to hide the fact that we had no idea how to dance. Ann was obviously disappointed and then you stepped in and offered her your hand. You led her around the dance floor and although she was mortified for the first few steps, within seconds she was smiling and laughing as you whisked her around the floor. It was the first time in my life that I had ever seen a man slowdance in person that didn't involve the simple shuffling of feet and turning in a circle. I admired your dancing ability that night, but more than that, I admired the kind of man that loved his daughter enough to get up in front of a bunch of teenagers and dance with his daughter. That's been at least 30 years ago and I just wanted you to know that it's a lesson that I've remembered and one I hope to pass on to my son as well.

Thank-you Richard