Hi everybody. I have some not-good news to share.
One of my husband’s oldest and closest friends has died. (For some context, he was “Dylan” in this anecdote about a wedding toast. ) Thing is, as with Gene Hackman, he was found in his house, and it was over a week since anyone had heard from him. I’m not clear on who found him, but whoever it was, they called Dylan’s brother “Brandon”, who called Mr. Rilch, who called me and at first could only say, “Bad news.” Oh, and Mr. Rilch is out of town right now, for work.
I liked Dylan too, to be sure. He was a fun guy, a nice guy, and definitely left a footprint. Put it this way: If you’re a gamer, you have almost certainly played or otherwise experienced one of the numerous projects he had a hand in. Work was a lot of his life. As I said in the link, he had a brief, unhappy marriage, and he was single from then on. When Mr. Rilch said, “Dylan’s dead!”, my first thought was “Suicide?” followed by “Accident?” Apparently it was heart-related…but maybe if someone had been with him to say, “You’re going to the hospital and that’s that,” that’s where he’d be. In the hospital instead of the funeral home.
So Brandon and “Kelly” are devastated, but they’re holding off on telling “Erin”, their teenage daughter, until Sunday. This weekend, she’s in the school musical. Chorus, not a lead role (yet?) and we’re going to see it. I’m still going to bring her flowers, as I had planned, but I can already hear the bomb ticking. She’s going to be heartbroken when she finds out, but I understand why the parents don’t want to derail her weekend. She’ll have plenty of time to grieve after the curtain goes down.
He was 55. Same age as me, and same as Mr. Rilch until next month.