This year I have attended too many funerals. The process of slipping on the black dress and hose, brushing my hair and my heart weighing heavy is sometimes too much to bear. This time it was my parents' best friend, John Nicol. He was a Vietnam War Veteran and died of pancreatic cancer caused by his "duty" of handling Agent Orange-although the government continues to NOT admit there's a correlation between Agent Orange and cancer. sickens me. Every one of his unit members has died from complications of cancer; yeah, like Agent Orange doesn't cause cancer.
Anyways, John was always a funny guy who enjoyed drinking, smoking, 60s music and partying with friends when he had the chance. He was always smiling and loved to drive fast in his boat when our families joined together for vacations. He was also a member of the Topeka Firefighters and even acted as trainer for the new recruits. He was a good man. Just an old fashioned good man. He believed in helping his fellow man but did not believe in God. and that's what made John great. He saw the goodness in everyone and everything. So instead of pictures from his funeral today in which his body was carried through town on the back of an old fashioned fire truck, I stopped to see the world as John would've seen it-"In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" style or in the Garden of Eden: I took small pleasure in finding the beauty of this dreary day.
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