On Monday, I was at work when I received a phone call from my chiropractor’s office. I don’t usually have my phone with me, but since my wife was on her own after I went back to work, she felt she needed me to have it in case of an emergency, so I did.
On the other end was my chiropractor’s office. The receptionist seemed distraught and said that she needed to cancel my upcoming appointment on Wednesday. Then she paused and continued, “and every one after that…” I asked what had happened. She replied, “Dr. Frankie passed away.” [Oh shit]
Dr. Frankie has been our chiropractor for the past 3 years. We started going to him after our previous chiropractor retired. He had a coronary episode about 18 months ago, bad enough that he almost died. He was able to make a pretty full recovery, but I recall him saying that his heart had been somewhat damaged during the episode and that he needed to be aware of his limitations. And to continue taking the medications, and so on. I guess it caught up to him, as the obituary stated he had died in the same hospital he had been taken to when that had happened.
After having an awkward exchange with the receptionist, I hung up and went back to work. I messaged my wife to share the news. Then went to the usual places one looks for more information, and found none. In my Facebook circle, there was no mention of his passing, and I didn’t hear anything more about it until yesterday. One of my co-workers mentioned that he had died, and it was because of an ‘aneuysm’. I mentioned that he was my chiropractor, and the conversation meandered at that point, both of us commenting on what a good man he was and a competent medical professional, and so on. I rechecked FB, and there were some posts about him, again mentioning an aneurysm but not giving any more details. Someone who claimed to be a close friend stated that it wasn’t that, it was something else.
Which is neither here nor there at this point; he’s gone. For me, it’s somewhat ironic, I guess, since today is the 2nd anniversary of the passing of my old meat manager. In some ways, it seems like almost no time has passed since he died. Others, it seems like a really long time ago. I guess the latter is because of who succeeded him in the position and the way he treated the job and his co-workers/subordinates. Someone who, coincidentally, just retired and left the company because it just didn’t ‘do it’ for him anymore. Or that he was just finally being held accountable and didn’t like it.
But getting back to the meat of this entry’s title, passings during the holidays tend to hit harder than at other times of the year. My adopted mother died just before Thanksgiving of 1989, and my cat Rochester passed a couple of days before Thanksgiving in 2022. Both passings make me dread the return of that holiday now. It’s no longer a holiday I want to see come around. Now Christmas and New Year’s join that retinue, because of Bob and Dr. Frankie. I’ve heard the pundits who have said, ‘celebrate their memory when the time comes around, don’t let it dominate the season,’ but that’s very easy to say, it’s a little more challenging to put into action. I guess if nothing else, it just makes me think about my own mortality.
Dr. Frankie and I were about the same age. Bob was 10 years my senior. I don’t want to end on a melancholy note, but I’ve run out of things to say. This sucks.