For as long as I can remember my dad has had two BFFs--Rich and Smoke. During my childhood they umpired little league together, they played practical jokes on each other, they went to the little league world series together every year for many years, they played golf, they watched hockey.

They were there for each other in good times and bad times.

They helped each other move. They hugged each other when their parents died. They were there for each other when their children went to college. When those same kids married. When those kids had kids. They were there for each other.

The three amigos.

We often joked that it was good that they had each other so that when they were old and senile they could wipe each other's chins in the nursing home.

But cancer has a way of messing up even the best laid plans and Smokey has been fighting a brain tumor for a number of years now.

It went away.

It came back.

It made it hard to keep his balance.

It made it hard for him to see.

But through it all he had his family and his friends.

Smokey lost his fight with cancer on Saturday--A good guy who had a crappy hand dealt to him. He played it well and he never lost his positive attitude.

On Saturday morning, my dad was on his way to visit him at the hospice center carrying a cup of coffee for him. When he learned that he had died, he drank the coffee in his honor and remembered that someday they will share a cup together again.

RIP Smoke. We will not forget you.