Mortally injured, Dave lingered a month and then died. Businessmen sat through his funeral next to the grizzled, pony-tailed riders of his beloved Harley club.
I stood afterwards, eyes filling, as one hundred-plus bikers headed down the boulevard, Dave in tow, bearing him away even as he smiled next to me from his daughter’s eyes.
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I'm an internist of few words who spends privileged time every day with my patients. Often mundane, sometimes funny, frequently sad or frustrating, these are close encounters of the life-changing kind.
6 comments:
How sad.
I do hope you will print this and give it to his daughter. A wonderful tribute.
beautifully written...
Beautifully said. Biker funerals are like no others...a good friend of mine's brother was a biker and he died in a car accident - she went to the funeral and it was full of the bikers as you describe them - a close knit community indeed.
Very touching. Thanks for sharing.
Very touching. Thanks for sharing.
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