Melancholy Military Friend

Today, this is the most important news I received:

David Michael Mosley

David lost his battle with cancer Tuesday morning.

He will always be with us.

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers.

I knew Michael when he called himself Michael, not David. Michael and I were stationed at Edwards AFB in California together in 1981-1982. He was one of my closest friends.

For years, Michael was long lost to me...as were all my other Air Force friends. (Though I recently found Dwaylon Calhoun in L.A.)

Dwaylon knew Michael, too, but he did not approve of Michael's preferences. That was his choice and his loss.

I found Michael on Facebook a few months ago,
was elated,
and then deflated,
when Michael told me he was at the end of his life span.

Cancer had sneaked into him, ravaged him, waiting to withhold his final breath and kill him.

At this moment, I am sad for those he left behind. Those who have lived in his world since the last I saw him. I am sad for those who darkly mourn him now.

Me, I still envision him the clean cut, blond airman from Mississippi who befriended the small town girl from New Hampshire. In our own ways, at that point in time, we were two souls drifting in melancholy, military time, far from childhood homes, and rooted to a desert where our friendship grew amid the cacti.

He'd knock and barge into my room to play to me the new tape of some hot new band he liked: The Go-Gos; Joan Jett & The Blackhearts; David Bowie. I'd stay up all hours of the night on weekends and play billiards with Michael in the dorm's rec. room. Michael drove me to L.A. once and we climbed the desert hill up to the famous HOLLYWOOD sign. I have pictures in a old photo album.

Michael Mosely was a friend put in my life for a season and for a reason, but not for a lifetime. My loss.

(Photo: Michael Mosley on left with high school friend)