Dee called me the day he found out about the lung cancer last November, and we texted regularly throughout his treatment, up until about a week before he passed. We had long, philosophical discussions on life, death and the paths and thoughts we have when someone gets a terminal diagnosis. He knew he could put out there whatever he wanted and I would give him my perspective. We laughed a lot, we were quite somber at times, but he always had that irreverent tinge to what he said. He was stubborn about his treatment--sucked on tootsie roll pops throughout the chemo so he didn't have to put a mask on--just like him to stick it to the rules (I did chastize him a bit on that). We talked about the strength needed to continue on with treatments and the battles he had already overcome in life. Back in February, he told me that "this is, without a doubt, the highest mountain I have ever had to climb." We celebrated with an "emoji toast" when he finished chemo, and cheered when radiation ended a month later. We talked of him getting "back to normal" to which he said, "I have never been normal." Though he did admit, "there's never been any quit in this ol' bag o' bones" and " of everththing I've lost I miss my brain cells most." The last time we communicated, he was feeling pretty good, and was fairly optimistic. I didn't have the chance to really say goodbye, so I will do it now.
Dee, you were a sweet, sweet young man when we went to school together and were in the church choir together. Life certainly took you on adventures, some good, some less so. But throughout all the obstacles, pain and tumult, you kept that irreverent sense of humor. You lived life on your terms--you were one of a kind. And below that gruff exterior, you cared deeply. I will miss you dear friend, and will remember you always. Safe travels Dee.
What sweet words about my good friend, Dee. Thanks Cat, you put him back on mind again. I visited Dee on a fairly regular basis. He was truly one of a kind.
Thank you, Catherine, for your beautiful memories of Dee. How fortunate that y'all were able to have such deep conversations about tough subjects. And I love how you document his rebel nature! I remember clearly his sweet face. So sorry to hear of his passing.
Kenneth E. Baker
Gone my brother, but not forgotten.
Catherine D. Kee (Eloranto)
Dee called me the day he found out about the lung cancer last November, and we texted regularly throughout his treatment, up until about a week before he passed. We had long, philosophical discussions on life, death and the paths and thoughts we have when someone gets a terminal diagnosis. He knew he could put out there whatever he wanted and I would give him my perspective. We laughed a lot, we were quite somber at times, but he always had that irreverent tinge to what he said. He was stubborn about his treatment--sucked on tootsie roll pops throughout the chemo so he didn't have to put a mask on--just like him to stick it to the rules (I did chastize him a bit on that). We talked about the strength needed to continue on with treatments and the battles he had already overcome in life. Back in February, he told me that "this is, without a doubt, the highest mountain I have ever had to climb." We celebrated with an "emoji toast" when he finished chemo, and cheered when radiation ended a month later. We talked of him getting "back to normal" to which he said, "I have never been normal." Though he did admit, "there's never been any quit in this ol' bag o' bones" and " of everththing I've lost I miss my brain cells most." The last time we communicated, he was feeling pretty good, and was fairly optimistic. I didn't have the chance to really say goodbye, so I will do it now.
Dee, you were a sweet, sweet young man when we went to school together and were in the church choir together. Life certainly took you on adventures, some good, some less so. But throughout all the obstacles, pain and tumult, you kept that irreverent sense of humor. You lived life on your terms--you were one of a kind. And below that gruff exterior, you cared deeply. I will miss you dear friend, and will remember you always. Safe travels Dee.
Cat Kee Eloranto
Kenneth E. Baker
What sweet words about my good friend, Dee. Thanks Cat, you put him back on mind again. I visited Dee on a fairly regular basis. He was truly one of a kind.
Martha Spence Ford
Thank you, Catherine, for your beautiful memories of Dee. How fortunate that y'all were able to have such deep conversations about tough subjects. And I love how you document his rebel nature! I remember clearly his sweet face. So sorry to hear of his passing.
Judith A. Hubbard (Watkins)
Dee was a mighty special guy!
Catherine thank you for sharing your story, you were truly an amazing friend to him❣️