I GUESS A LOT OF THINGS TODAY

make me think of him. You see, he died last week. I still hurt.

I think the worst part is knowing that I won't see him again.

And I hadn't for 10 years. No phone call. No e-mail. Only contact through another friend.

Except for our Christmas card exchange every year and a hand written note covering no more than the blank inside part of the card.

But we knew the other cared. Deeply.

High school and college buds, we were each other's best man, two weeks apart, so many years ago. Like so many in our lives, we grew apart. He lived overseas, then moved to Florida. Separated by four hours flight plus another 1 1/2 hour drive to his house. Knock off the hour drive to mine from Florida to Arizona. But we never made those trips. We weren't even at each other's house since he came to mine in the late '70's, though as newlyweds we had lived just two houses apart.

Our relationship wasn't really all that different in our years in school either. Many times, most in fact, we did stuff with other friends. Yet, strangely, had you asked us or fellow friends who our best friend was, each would have named the other. Had you asked other friends who our best friend was, they would also have told you that we were each other's best friends. Strange, but there was that distant closeness. That lasted through the years.

Another friend of ours recently wrote, "what will matter is not how many people you know, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you're gone." Russ Hays, my man, I loved you and I'm gonna miss you. And I'm sure that feeling will last through the years.