This Christmas Eve will mark the second anniversary of the death of my closest friend. We had been friends since childhood, and his death was sudden and unexpected. After work on Christmas Eve, Tory had stopped in the park near his home where we had spent so much time as children. He ate a sandwich and sat on the bench, and I like to think he was eagerly awaiting the holiday festivities that would begin at his home in the next few hours. Instead, he choked on the meat in his sandwich and he was not found until the following morning. I will never get over this tragic loss of this special man, but I have come to accept his death as part of life. Tory had reinvented his own life over the course of the last several years. As I prepare to celebrate the holidays this year I will say a prayer that he knew how much we all loved him.
Tory on his way to Cancun in 1992.
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