20 September 2004.
The most honest, caring and sincere man that I have had the privilege to call my friend passed away on that day. A man so comfortable with himself that he never had a bad word to say about anyone, not even those who would have deserved it. He had time for everyone, even those who hadn't always had time for him. I only had the chance to share in ten years of his life, but he found a way to cram a lifetime of meaning into that decade. He battled cancer three times before it took him at the far-too-young age of 38. He lived every minute of his life, not knowing if it might be his last. He never gave up.
He pursued his passions without concern for what life or others threw in his way. When I get down on myself. When I think that I'm wasting my time, spending my days pursuing something that I love, but that faces heavy odds against success. I think of my friend and I push on. I can't, in good conscience, let failure stop me. I will use every chance that comes my way to achieve my dreams. Every day is another day that I have another chance. Another chance my friend never got.
I miss you, my friend.
Guido the Plumber-boy (1966-2004). You know who you are...
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