Looking back it seems that a few hours after Wes died, my door bell rung. It was around 2:00 AM and when I opened the door nobody was there. Nothing was moving, there wasn't a sound, it was dead calm. I remember how odd this was. Both arms had goosebumps and the hair on the back of my neck was sticking up.
I was so unnerved that for the 1st time in my life I got my shotgun, loaded it and put it under the bed. Basically I was freaked the F&$# out.
Little did I know that about 90 before my door bell rang my dear friend Wes had lost his struggle with life. He had bleed out from a internal surgery he had a few days prior. Something became loose and his doctors couldn't stop the bleeding. I believe he was wide awake when he died.
Wes, it wasn't your time!
Wes was strong and he fought for nearly half a day to stay with his wife, step son and 10 year old daughter. His mom called me the next morning to let me know that Wes had died the night before a few days after a "successful" elective surgery
Wes, I wonder if it was you who rang my doorbell and visited me that morning? I would like to think so as I will miss our talks and laughter. You were of my tribe and may God rest your soul.
