Thank you, Andy!

Andy and I worked together 30+ years ago and would often share stories over lunch. He was 15 years older than me and was a great source of advice early in my career, and a ballast for some early turbulent days on the job.

He also introduced me to Iyengar yoga on a few of those lunches, where we went to a nearby gym and he taught me the virtues of tadasana, finding balance on the heels and balls of my feet, holding my shoulders back and lifting my chest  Those lunchtime lessons had a profound effect, and although we lost touch, when I was looking to find a yoga teacher, I sought out someone who specialized in the Iyengar method.

We bumped into each other fifteen years later at the Yoga Centre, when I went to buy some wooden yoga blocks for home practice. He was looking forward to retiring from his government job so he could go into teaching yoga full time. And when life's turns brought me back to YCT as a student, I sought out his classes. On many Thursday nights I appreciated his acerbic wit and irreverent approach, and took a few workshops with him. When he decided to retire from teaching I asked for his phone number so I could take him out for a beer.

That little slip of paper stayed in my wallet for a number of years, and I came close to calling the number but never did. At the gala this year, I asked Stephanie how he was, because I knew they kept in touch. He was not doing well. In fact, he was battling cancer and in palliative care, but was taking visitors.

When I visited him, I was happy to see the Andy I remembered - wearing a long white beard, looking for all the world like a yogi reclined in a hospital bed. We caught up with each other, and swapped stories. Patricia, his wife, in their back garden, peeked from behind an arbour and raised a glass of wine in a photo. She had died a few years before and he still missed her. He talked about travels with his nieces and nephews.

I visited a few more times. I asked him for advice about preparing for retirement, and he talked about Steven Covey and 7 Habits and how a holistic view of all dimensions of a person - physical, spiritual, intellectual, social should all be taken into account, and not to neglect those dimensions. What is work giving you, beyond the pay check, that may need to be fulfilled?

There were always visitors in Andy's room. Family, friends. I bumped into people from the yoga centre. Andy didn't complain and spoke highly of everyone at the hospital, but he did say although the food wasn't bad, it wasn't great either. He enjoyed sushi and it was often in the room or on order, and I even brought some it along once, in lieu of flowers.

Treatment continued. Weeks went by. He learned he would never have full mobility and would be paralyzed from the waist down. He tried to plan ahead for the day he would be released from palliative care, and then realized that day wouldn't come.

Jane told me on a Friday, the last day of a yoga workshop, that Andy had made the decision to end his life the following Monday. I went to visit him that afternoon. I brought an audio speaker so I could play him a Monty Python song I thought would suit his irreverent spirit - "Always look on the Bright Side of Life." He smiled when I played it, and closed his eyes and listened, and when the words of the song came to, "Always look on the bright side of death, just before you draw your terminal breath," I realized that really was Andy, an eternal optimist. I put my hand over his and said, 'thank you.'

He died of natural causes the following day, lethal injection not necessary.

His funeral was the following week. There were many of us there from the yoga studio as he taught and mentored both students and teachers. There were also his family, his neighbours, his friends, people from the train club, wood workshop buddies, and someone from the Bladder Cancer Society. People got up to speak and tell stories of the time they spent with Andy and what a difference he had made in their lives. As they spoke I came to know more aspects of his person.

He was a man of many dimensions and led a full life. For his train buddies, he had become President of their association for a number of years. For nieces and nephews, he had introduced them to travel, ideas, and good food. For neighbours, he had provided a place to come together and share stories and drinks. He had become a spokesperson and ambassador for the Bladder Cancer Society and helped inspire and support others.

I am grateful we had a chance to connect again and I was able to learn more about his world and passions.

He introduced me to Iyengar yoga, and I will always be grateful I had a chance to let him know it made such a strong and lasting impact, and to thank him in person.