Monday, May 19, 2014

My Best Friend poem from Bob Haveson with cover letter

Dear Paritz families and friends
I was fortunate to be part of a friendship where we were the same age, born and raised in New Jersey , of similar aspiration to serve people, which Don achieved early on as a pharmacist and me much later as a college professor and neither of us had an overwhelming desire to be wealthy.
We were sharers. Sometime he would edit my writing. We had similar feelings about movies especially art films ( Cannes or Sundance or other) so he honored me by
requesting lists of movies to see until NETFLIX obsoleted me. Of course we comforted each other during hard times.
At one time I was his only source of Brooklyn bagels. He reprimanded me heavily if garlic bagels were included in my delivery. For me to just say he didn’t like garlic bagels was so much an under statement. It was tantamount to simply saying, he didn’t like Hitler.
Our trips around the U. S. were exciting, seeing San Diego Pandas up close and realizing almost too late that San Diego was part desert and barely having enough water while bicycling areas we thought were benign. Don discovered the altitude at Grand Canyon was a thing to reckon with and I discovered that I was allergic to something in the area and had a fever for a few days. We never figured out what it was. Nevertheless, the recollection of riding mules together to the canyon floor along a steep rocky trail occurred during many of our conversations.
Few people had such a good friendship as long as we did and I will sorely miss him.
Your friend
Bob Haveson
Please accept this elegy as an expression of the meaningfulness of my family’s relationship with Don.Bob Haveson
My Best Friend
March 15, 2014
Don and Marie were lucky to have had such an agreeable relationship these recent years.
She entered his life and they had not only love, but the caring was very much in evidence.
Marie is a kind and wonderful woman from who it can be felt that her loss must be great.
Back in 1957 when our wives met in Sears; Don, Anne, Frieda and I became friends.
By 1968 our new families became daring enough to ski. Don was a good skier in N.J.
In Vermont he became a great skier with a little daring thrown in; he could do the glades.
We liked our wine, a little ambience, and relaxation as we dined in various restaurants.
We solved world problems or commented on them; ones not a picnic for great minds.
Biked clockwise around Lake Champlain from Vermont thru New York towns and back.
Windsurfed many Vermont lakes and then his favorites Memphremagog and Caspian.
Hiked our share of hills, none treacherous, but filled with trees, trees and glorious views.
In winter we snow shoed in Johnson and watched the ducks skate the Paritz’s pond.
Bikes in tow we traveled to Nova Scotia , Assateague Maryland and the wild ponies, etc.
In 2007 I injured my ankle and we decided to ride closer to home along the Potomac .
It pleased us; Ellen, Sandy, Mike, Cori, and Michael made lasting friendships as we did.
We played chess because Don humored me. Years later he admitted he disliked the game.
He played poker and ping pong well when he went to Rutgers . I wasn’t any challenge.
He played saxophone as I did, but I never heard it. Anne told me of the times she heard it.
He played it boldly in the basement to invisible audiences until he was ready to not play.
He told me that he could not ever play as good as his father. I understood. Me neither.
Don fought the big C twice. Each time he overcame it. Maybe because of his exercise.
He walked as often as possible; at a comfortable rate 1 hour and 15 minutes per day.
When Tina and I visited we strolled the causeway WEST with Don neath a placid sky.
In the distance, tremulant light presented a daring display and the show headed our way,
And with the lights came clamorous claps of thunder and a bath not unlike a water falls.
Though soaked we evaded it by walking at marathon pace Eastwardalong the causeway,
Causing us to laugh with glee that we had not been disintegrated by a Star Trekian phaser
Or the natural forces of nature, which we had imagined were moving at warp speed.
All that being said about our good times we still shared several thoughts and tribulations,
And when I was disappointed by one doctor or another Don always picked up the phone.
My Pharmacist listened, made suggestions or disagreed with a hair brained idea I had.
Don, by definition: a good friend to share an ice cold beer or an exciting experience.

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