It was Friday, the night before Roasted Nuts II. He was a team member and was supposed to come along to Shawano, a place where some family lives and childhood memories were made (used to be even more family there). He had just been up there a week before to visit family at a wedding. I had been unable to make it. Overnight reservations were made and plans were set. Earlier in the day he asked what time we were leaving. As the night progressed, he then sent another text indicating he didn't think he should go because he wasn't feeling up to it in cryptic terms. I replied he didn't have to do anything, just come along. Then another indicating it wasn't worth going and feeling worse. I didn't reply. A minute later, a third popped up stating to still come over though.



Come over though? Coming over didn't make any sense - it was the opposite direction. But I did. And we had a "nice" conversation standing in his kitchen. I didn't make it to the hotel in Shawano until Saturday morning. In hindsight, he must have knew he felt much worse than he let on. But had to see me for whatever reason. He told his fiancee he didn't know why I was coming over when she asked. I still have the text and it still gives me chills.



All very odd for sure. Previous weeks such as Labor Day had family members indicating he should go to the doctor and have some odd swelling in the ankles and feet looked at. He was reluctant because he had recently lost his job in health insurance (because in his words –– Fu-k Obama). This when they (or in the eyes of the law, he) bought a house he had big plans for being married in Jamaica this winter at the resort they became engaged. Plans he finalized just a few days before his death because he decided they were going to do that regardless.



He had cluster headaches and assumed (as did we) some of this was related to medication for that. He made the comment that he figured if it was something bad he wasn't going to waste all that money. He was stubborn. As am I. It runs in the family. He had his eye on the prize, marrying the woman he loved so much where and how they wanted. They were perfect for each other in every way.



In reality he was probably right –– even if he had gone in, it appears it may have been too late to save him in the long run. We won't know for sure for a number of weeks. I know he would choose this over dragging it out and everyone through that –– though for many, they would have rather had that time. Complicated for sure.



He had been so impressed by what the Roasted Nuts had become this year and was looking forward to trying some of that special root beer I tried to explain about. With my new "membership" a trip to Shawano for a day of fun shooting was soon to be in the works.



His fiancee was a few hours out of town for a long planned girls weekend and he abruptly stopped responding to text messages and phone calls. She knew he wasn't feeling well when she left and was worried. He had insisted she go. This continued the rest of the day as well as calls from others including myself so she decided to come home at three in the morning. My house is on the way so I followed her home.



He was already gone. I knew that long before the ambulance she called got there. Minutes that seemed like hours.



He was Boomstick. My #1 shooting buddy. The person who arfcom news and deals were immediately shared with. Someone with whom I've shared lots of excited discussions lately about concealed carry. We had the same opinions of politics and many things in life. I like the fact he copied me with building a "bug out bag" amongst other things –– imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.



He was also my (only) little brother and best friend. Beloved uncle to my children. They loved him so much.



So raise your glass for one of ours, who left this earth way too early and pray for his wonderful fiancee who has so many questions and a difficult road ahead. When the banks and government are done, there will likely be little to nothing left except for some stuff and the ring on her finger. Dreams and aspirations lost. I wish I could make it all better for her.



Tonight is the first night of relative calm after a week of storm. Seeing long lost relatives and friends out of touch for many years –– too bad it takes something like this to bring them together.



It was standing room only, a testament to his impact on many others lives. They brought out every chair from every room including the office. His only comment ever made to her about what he "wanted" –– probably more joking than not –– was if he died he wanted bagpipes and a "big f-cking party". He had both.



The purpose of my writing this is a reminder. Take away lessons learned –– have life insurance and not only from your employer. Even if you are young, take the time to write down and execute your wishes. Make sure you dot the i's and cross the t's –– if not for your peace of mind just for that of your nearest loved one. If you are not yet married, keep some cash for your significant other squirreled away out of your bank account. If you think you need to go the doctor, go. $150 out of pocket for an urgent care visit isn't worth your life. And again as he would say, F-ck Obama.



I forget who it was on here that gave him a Gadsden "Don't Tread On Me" flag when he wanted it to fly a certain day –– I think it was election day if I recall –– and couldn't get one ordered in time. I know he flew it proud and posted pics on here.



I haven't gone over to look through things and don't know that I want to. If and when I do, I hope I find that. And his Pack LaRue Dillo.



I used to spend hours a week thinking or sharing with him unstarted or unfinished gun projects that are now of no interest to me –– my real motivation was usually to show and share with my brother the cool things done. The fun in shooting was the time spent together...it seems useless now. So much for taking him down to Range Day. Even surfing arfcom doesn't feel right.



But as the decorative sign in my living room says –– "It is what it is".



It is unbelievable.