Untold Story: One Dying Man’s Death Bed Memory

At The End Of The Boy Scout Tree Trail

I sat beside a sometimes troubled client and friend and listened to his death bed memories of his Grandfather’s words. These were the last words he spoke to those of us there. The only relative in the room was his younger sister, and noticeably absent was his prominent father and other close family members. I was there partly having worked with him via two of his lawyers, both of whom were present. They still believed in his innocence. His doctor and a nurse completed the witness list in his last hours on this planet.

His chaotic life had been a revolving door of legal woes all driven by underlying bi-polar episodes. These were his life soulmates along with his ruthless business decisions, dubious partnerships, and the off and on again accompanying addictions. There was some hope for explanations for his life mysteries and the unexplainable, maybe a confession, or at least some last minute instructions. He was a master storyteller, yet there he was a guarded man when it came to revealing anything personal. Still clear in his keen mind in his final hour though was simply a boyhood memory.

These were his words, embedded in my brain vault for more than thirty-three years:

Climbing Towards The End Of The Trail

“He’d just gotten out of the hospital with his 4th heart attack, refused to quit smoking Camels or retire. He had his arm around my 14 year old shoulders, as I helped him climb a hill he should not have been climbing, because as he put it, ‘I guess God will look more kindly on a man climbing’ toward Him dyin’ than one sitting his fat ass.’

Gramps had a way with words to say nothing of invoking God’s name upon his (prohibited endeavors). I loved him more than life.

We were well on our way to achieving the crest of a trail near the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park, Gramps mopped his brow, when we sat down in the late afternoon sun to brood over the Boy Scout Tree bluff to the sea below. The closer we got the more the lush forest of redwoods kept giving hints of more grandeur to come. We weren’t disappointed. There were seabirds soaring above, sea lions basking on the rocks below. The awe-inspiring panoramic view, the rugged cliffs . . . that’s the only memory I wanted to keep forever. I wasn’t prepared for the facts of life buzz killer Gramps was about to drop on me.

I Didn’t See It Coming: It Was Our Last Hike Together

We shared a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and chips, when Gramps put his hand on my shoulder, and launched into what was behind this walk-about excursion:

“All women ain’t whores, son,” Grandpa shot into my heart.” It doesn’t make a man a fool to be tricked into marrying a whore he thought was a lady. Your dad plays it stiff in the neck for fear someday, someway, somebody’s going to find out he was fooled once. Don’t you be stiff like him! And your mother, though she has never been the mothering kind, is a woman more in need of understanding than condemnation. I’ve always known you to be understanding. Like me, I understand you’re hurt by her leaving again. Don’t be stiff!”

And I cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Those were the last words that Gramps ever said to him. Those were the final words Raymond ever uttered aloud as his sister held his hand. Not one of us spoke leaving the room as we cried and cried and cried.

“Death is a lonely journey, often only accompanied by long forgotten memory melodies softly playing in the background of an empty abandoned concert hall of yesterdays. Raymond passed through the lives of those who could not, or would not soften their hearts. Away from his father, his brothers, and his mother. Yet, unlike his notorious hard-ass father whose own death because of his wealth had many obligated and insincere funeral attendees — his lonely ashes were scattered into the eternal Pacific coast winds without fanfare.

On that day, four of us stood surrounded by the salty scent of the ocean, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest. We hoped the winds were to be his companions that offered him much needed freedom, forgiveness, and solace. It’s the interconnections of all things in nature, and the fleeting memories of the living, and ever changing, ephemeral breezes that took him to his next destination.” — Jerilee Wei © 2023