Allan Hardy, Friends of CwG forums 2002-2012
I am awake tonight, thinking of Allan Hardy, the man I loved more than life. My friend and mentor.
I am living the life he wanted for me, due to the legacy that befell me upon his death and under the guidance and direction of the plans he made without my knowledge when he was alive.
Iím headed toward the future he had envisioned. A job, a position that he carefully designed for me and that I need several more years of formal education to be qualified for. He was always making connections for others. The invisible, guiding hand that helps silently and without accolades.
The catch is, he was fairly certain that I would die of Marfan Syndrome and neuromuscular disease within a year or two of his own unexpected passing and so, in a sense, these things were contingency plans as well as far-flung hope.
I was taken on by Johns Hopkins for a number of years, and did live. This, also, due to his unseen influence and posthumously. At the worst of it I could not speak, swallow, see, lift my arms or feed and bathe myself. That was 2014 and I felt him hovering close night and day.
We made a pact in life, you see. A vow that one or the other would wait and provide assurances-somehow-of what lies beyond and that all is well.
ďSend me a sign. Do you promise? It will have to be a big, neon sign with flashing lights and roadblocks... maybe a few billboards, too, because sometimes I donít see whatís right in front of me and you might have to hit me over the head. Let me know youíre ok. Promise?Ē
I love you, Button.
I still sleep in your shirt sometimes and I still have one of the Guatemala teddy bears.
I lost everything, but somehow you made sure I still had you. Thatís just what you do. ❤️