I've kinda had to wait all week to post this, and I still don't know what to say.
As I was on my way up to Wichita, Kansas this past Monday, I got the call that a good friend of mine, James Lynn Wolf, lost his battle with cancer. He was in his 50s, which is still way to young to me, and he had so much going on. Well-wishers have been making their sentiments known in droves, and tomorrow is his memorial service.
This is the first time since I was a teenager that I have had to bury someone that I know (a couple of years ago, a friend from high school took his own life, but I was unable to fly to Florida for it... I still think of him often and wish I could have been there...). My friend Tamy said to me last week, "We're too young to start burying our friends," and I completely agree. Lynn was the oldest member of our Sports City "family," and he was definitely the patriarch. One of the nicest men that you will ever meet, he was always the first to laugh at my jokes, the first to help out when his assistance was needed, and always there if you needed him. Just kind of goes to show you what a cruel bitch cancer can be.
Most of my emotions have been spent in private (gotta be the strong one, you know), but I feel as if that will not be the case in 25 hours. I don't even know if I'll be able to put anything into words at his memorial service, because how can you put into words a man's life that is so far above mere words?
To paraphrase Michael W. Smith, I guess God just missed Lynn's company. He'll definitely be missed down here by all who knew him, even as an acquaintance. If you met him, your life was better because of it.
Here's to ya, Big Dog. Football season will never be the same.
BB
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