Adios, Old Neighbor

 So we often have nightly group FaceTimes -- usually it's when D1 is giving her son his pre sleep nursing, and D2 is walking the oversized puppy. Wifey is usually wandered off somewhere, so it's just the 4 of us. Last night D1 shared some sad news: our former neighbor Evan had died.

Evan and Stefanie lived 4 houses away. D1 used to babysit for their kids, and grew close to Stefanie -- a very cool lady who is an art executive. Over time, D1 became Stefanie's Girl Friday -- even though I think you're not supposed to use that phrase anymore because of the colonialism thing, but too bad. D1 would help with chores related to Stefanie's job, and she and Evan even had D1 stay with the kids while they went to Europe. D1 was a nanny!

About 7 years ago, Evan and Stefanie moved to the Grove -- a lovely condo on South Bayshore. The kids went off to college. D1 stayed in touch, and they had us over for a congratulation cocktail when D1 and Joey got engaged. All was well -- their son graduated Wharton, and went into the art field, like his parents. Evan was a private banker who used his MA from Columbia to advise wealthy clients about buying art. Their daughter went to school in England, I think.

Well, last year we got tough news: Evan was diagnosed with brain cancer. It was a shock -- though he was my age, he looked 10 years younger, the result of a strict diet and exercise regimen. He sought treatment in Europe, and Duke, and finally at the new cancer center at Baptist. I knew prognosis for brain cancer was grim.

A few weeks ago, the Ds and D1's baby went over for a visit. Evan seemed a bit out of it, but certainly not imminently dying. But he did -- Sunday night. It was very rough news.

I told Barry, who knew Evan from our days at the gym on Brickell. He replied that it was a cliche, but like most cliches, true: each day of life is a blessing. Indeed.

I emailed Stefanie last night, and she responded right away -- how much Evan loved my family and especially D1. I made a contribution to Lotus House, a wonderful shelter for homeless women, in his memory.

I plan to reach out to the kids. I know from personal experience what it is to lose a father in your 20s. You never get over it. I surely never did.

Although Evan dressed like a GQ model, and was very elegant, with a Masters degree from an Ivy League school, he was a fellow mule. And I mean that in the most positive way. We mules carry the load of our families -- economically and emotionally. All of my close friends are mules. I have some acquaintances who are not -- a non mule could never be inner circle with me. Like Don Corleone says -- a man who doesn't spend time with and take care of his family can never be a real man.

It's strange: our neighborhood lost two men, both just 60, and both who lived the healthiest lifestyles. Ben died 2 years ago last February. He was a daily runner and clean eater -- he used to make fun of me for walking along ploddingly, and hitting the unhealthy stuff at parties. But the lesson is, when the Big Man calls -- time to go.

So RIP my fellow mule. Your memory will be a blessing.