Eulogy for a dear friend

My name is Moby If you kindly will, allow me some time today to remember, and say a few words at the passing of my fishin’ buddy, my brother, my dear friend, Bruce Breckenridge. To me he was Commander. He liked that a lot. I’d call him the “Midget Marshall” on the radio. He didn’t like that at all. It was years of best friends pickin’ on each other. Even though I can’t be with those that loved him today as we salute him, and wish him fair winds and following seas, it’s important to me for all of you to know I loved him these past 25 years. I’ve shared my heart and my hurt with him, just as he shared his with me. We laughed together, cried together, and as dear friends from time to time shook our fists at an unforgiving world.
Oh, the stories Bruce & I would tell of our times & travels together, some of which could never have been told in mixed company. Most would only be stories of good friends, and fishin’ buddies in search of sunshine. Where are they biting, Bruce? Can we get there?
Stories of clear blue water, shallow & deep. Stories of hurricanes approaching the coast. Air too hot to breathe, and rainbows on the horizon. Key West, Florida, Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, and Lord how many Texas lakes?
I moved away from Texas in ’91, but there’s never been a day that Bruce Breckenridge couldn’t reach out & find a best friend a phone call away. I’d hear where he’d been hunting and wetting lines, and he’d hear similar stories from me. We’d make plans about places we hadn’t been to yet, but we’d hook up & visit one day.
In our hearts we were young boys planning what we’d do when we grew up. I did all those things & visited all those places in my dreams. Today, I hope that Bruce had those same dreams, and before too long we’ll be sitting on a bank or in a boat on a body of water in the clouds where the fish are always biting & the weather’s always perfect.
It doesn’t seem quite right to wake up in a world he’s no longer part of. But like with Renee, he will never die in my heart, and someday, I’ll see him again. Commander, find us a bunch of Heavenly fishin’ holes. I’ll be along soon enough.
Check the book on your way through the Pearly Gates. Take note of the date I’ll be there, and plan us a trip. If we get out on the water before daybreak that first day in Glory, I can’t imagine how beautiful that sunrise will be.
God bless you & all my memories of you. Good bye, Commander. You brother…Moby