There is nobody like Sinclair. He loves God, his family and me. We have been friends for over twenty years. He was born in Jamaica and still has a hint of the accent. When he smiles, there is a bright gold tooth shining. His skin is darker than most, almost ebony. He gives Christians a good name, in a time where there is not enough of that happening.
I remember The Dad being in San Fransisco for a couple of weeks and a pick up order being issued on one of my teenagers. It was almost midnight and the hospital was hours away. Sinclair was the one who volunteered to go with me. I remember the old pastor denouncing my friend and me bursting into tears. Sinclair crossed the church silently and held me in his arms, not saying anything. The service ended quickly. The Dad and I went on a cruise with Sinclair and his wife shortly before we got GB. We had a whole week to talk about nothing and everything. God was always part of our world and part of our conversations. Sinclair was the first one to tell me GB was a gift from God and that I should treasure her. I don't think I realized up to that point that GB was ours permanently. I still thought the kids were going to get their act together. When GB was about three and going through a jewelry stage, a bunch of us had a yard sale. GB bejeweled Sinclair and he smiled the whole time... right through earrings, hats, necklaces, and bracelets. He even smiled through the picture GB had to have of him looking "beautiful". Sinclair is an outstanding chef and made a corned beef and cabbage to die for. He is always honest and mostly kind and always knows what is important.
Sinclair retired and started spending part of the year in Florida. He always comes home, though. In May, he was happily looking forward to barbecuing on the 4th of July. It was a tradition. In the end of May, he was losing blood and was admitted to the hospital.
Thursday I heard he was transferred to the oncology unit of another hospital. I decided to skip church this morning and go visit him. The Dad came with me. We got there around quarter to twelve. Sinclair had slipped into a coma last night. He was actively dying. I said my good byes and thanked him for his friendship. I hugged his daughter and his wife. At 1:30 this afternoon, Sinclair passed into his next life. This world is poorer for the loss.
Good bye, my friend. I love you.