Cris

Cris passed away yesterday evening while at home with Christiane and sleeping quietly. He drew one final breath and simply stopped. The cancer he'd held at bay for a year and a half finally took him. His final weeks had been tough ones for Cris and his family, although he rallied somewhat last week and was able to smile and carry on conversations, giving everyone around him a final memory of the old Cris. During those moments he chided Christiane, kidded Dad, spoke to Harry, and groused with his nurses. For a few days his blue eyes sparkled, then in his final few days he lapsed into a peaceful sleep.

In a fashion typical of Cris, he directed that there be no memorial service or funeral. The man who didn’t want people singing in restaurants on his birthday for fear of drawing unnecessary attention to himself wished to go out of this world without fanfare. Cris is being cremated, and his ashes will be spread in a favorite trout stream high up in the Blue Ridge, from where all of us that loved him can look West and see him. It's a favorite, secret fishing spot of his and his father's...a fitting spot to rest.

We had years of great times together..hunts long remembered, Harry growing up, state skeet tournaments so hot you could fry eggs on the gun barrel, and just plain shooting the bull over a taste of whiskey. Last year's final duck hunt proved his last...so glad it was a good hunt. Even after he got sick, Cris never gave up living, loving, hunting, laughing. They gave him a couple of months and he took a year and a half...some of the best living of his life.

Raise your glass and toast Cris. So long buddy. We'll sorely miss you.