I met my banker friend Carole back in 1988, when I was working for my first Plaintiff's firm. She was the private banker at SunBank for my bosses and Paul, who would become my banker.
We hit it off right away -- she was born and raised in Miami, to Irish American parents originally from PA. She was a proud Nole, like I was a proud Cane, but she was also a Cane since her parents were UM grads, too.
I have never seen Carole anything but very UP. People say I'm optimistic and upbeat -- Carole makes me seem like a total Eeyore. When Paul and I started our firm, Carole stayed our banker, and when we moved into the now SunTrust building, we would see each other often -- often lunching or enjoying happy hours afterwards.
Back then, Paul and I were prized clients, and Carole got us very nice perks. I used to joke that I wanted a toaster each time we made a sizeable deposit -- she got us tickets to U2, and, if I remember correctly, Pink Floyd. The U2 show was great -- we rented a limo and went to Joe Robbie Stadium in style. It was a delightful evening.
Carole left SunTrust, and I always followed her -- usually with certificates of deposit -- just to keep our relationship going. I think I followed Carole to 7 different banks. A few years ago, though near retirement age, she went to a new bank, and I opened some CDs, there. I would typically keep accounts at her ex banks, too -- one was First Horizon. When I go to the branch, the old timers all ask after Carole.
We've shared many happy hours. When we open a new account, Carole typically would stop by here for a few bourbons as I had vodka. Wifey and I would chat for hours. She went to Israel pre Covid with her church group -- and she wanted a primer from us about things to see other than the Catholic stuff. I joked with her that I had been to Ireland twice -- and she -- never. That would change this Fall.
When each of the Ds were planning their weddings, we opened separate accounts -- they got to know Carole, too, and were always amazed at her happiness and attitude. Carole never married, or had kids, and that was one part of her life that's remained a mystery.
Her niece and nephews are like kids to her. Her niece Colleen is a journalist in St. Pete -- already winning awards there. Years ago she worked for the Herald, and I took her and Carole to a night of dinner and drinks at Captain's Tavern -- we had a terrific time talking about Carl Hiassen and the strangeness of Miami.
I really, really, dig Carole. She told me she was FINALLY going to Ireland -- to watch her beloved Noles play Ga Tech in Dublin. We talked about must sees -- I told her to NOT waste hours for the Book of Kells, and why. She was thankful.
I watched some of the game on TV at a deli as I had lunch with my grandson -- smiling that my friend was there. And then I hadn't heard from her for awhile -- I thought she was embarrassed by her team's historically bad season -- 0-3. But lots of times months would go by and then we'd catch up -- often a cocktail at Christy's or The Tavern or at Villa Wifey.
She called last night. I was home from lunch with my nephews of another mister -- Scott is hear visiting with his grandmother in a rehab/nursing home facility -- probably her last stop here on Earth. So I was already a bit down.
She sounded up, but not as much as usual. I asked about the Old Sod, and she said she had bad news --while there, she had awful pain in her ribs -- she thought she might have somehow fallen and not remembered. She went to the hospital and learned the truth -- the ribs WERE cracked, from a cancer that had been eating away at them. They wanted to keep her in Ireland, but she insisted on coming home -- they gave her pain meds and she did come. It took a few weeks to get into Miami Cancer Institute, even though she has very rich clients who helped -- and finally this week it all came into focus.
She has Stage IV breast cancer -- spread ALL over. Typical Carole -- upbeat about the fact that chemotherapy wasn't to be -- they're going to treat her with immunotherapy and, I guess, Radiation. She's already been needing her chest drained, and is on pain meds.
I've learned that when a friend shares tough news, the best approach is to listen -- not pepper with questions like whether she had mammograms, etc... And so I did, and she told me more details. She was prepared to do what her Indian born oncologist said -- he told her she was in for a rough ride.
And I googled her condition -- some women can indeed make it years after a Stage IV treatment. May that be Carole's course.
The Ds called me -- on their way home from some dinner at a restaurant that takes 5 months to get a reservation -- they took one from a friend whose husband didn't wish to go. They could tell I was down. They reminded me that a friend of theirs had Stage IV, and in fact lived 6 years -- cutting and styling hair up until nearly the end. I know the state of the art improves, it seems, monthly.
I said a prayer for Carole to the Big Man. She had asked for one from "my team" - she had already been to her Catholic church a few times. She is the primary caregiver for her 90 something Mom -- lives in a nursing home in South Dade. I guess her brother will have to step up now.
I hope to see her again. I told her to ask her doc -- but hopefully a few Makers can only help. She would let me know next week -- the time for that would be before she starts the more intensive meds.
Oh man -- that book from decades ago said it best, trying to explain when bad things happen to good people.
May my banker for decades rock on, for many more years.
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