I got a call from your wife today. At first I thought it was you letting me know you were out of the hospital, but when I found it was her calling I knew the worst had happened.

I tried to contact you when I heard you were in the hospital, but they didnt have you on the list. I thought you had gotten better and gone home. I figured that I would get to see you again, sitting on your back porch, trimming bonsai and complaining about Obama. Ha-ha!

I got busy with work as we all seem to do and the moment to talk to you one last time slipped away. Those moments slipped away several times over the last eight days and I didn't know how bad things were. I think you knew then the cancer had won the last time I saw you, but you didnt say anything. I think you didnt want a long sappy good bye.

It's strange really. I've only known you for a few years but it feels like Ive known you for longer. Knowing you are gone now seems to have hit me harder than when my grandmother died, which is the strange part. Maybe it was because I still had so much to learn from you. You were a master of your art and every time I hung out at your house I learned something new about bonsai.

What was it you were trying to tell me before you left? I am tearing myself up inside thinking that you had one last lesson for me, but I was too damn busy to put a little more effort in contacting you. So many other things I wanted to say to you. So many thoughts and so few words.

I will miss you. Thank you for sharing with me your knowledge of bonsai and life. I know that our time together was limited, but you were a great mentor and friend and I will always be grateful for what I have learned.