Last April, some of my best friends had to make a very hard decision about me. The specific reason why is largely irrelevant for my purposes here; I will say that it had to do with my health, though. The RavenCon folks had a very hard decision to make, one I forced on them by my stubborn unwillingness to admit that I was as sick as I was (not, I hasten to add, an infrequent habit of mine). They agonized over it, consulting other of my friends and (I assume) exploring other possibilities to solve the problem that may or may not have involved alien abductions, Visigoth invasions, and/or ninjas. (Sorry. My go-to when Im emotional is to make silly jokes; believe me, I have no wish to trivialize their actions.) Whatever deliberations they may have put themselves through on my part, their decision was both inevitable and - for all of us - very, very hard: I was asked to leave the convention. They did it as gently and with as little potential humiliation as was humanly possible by having their decision brought to me by a person that I could never be angry at. Again, the identity of the person is irrelevant here, and I am reluctant to cause them any possible embarrassment. Suffice to say that this person is someone who had long before won my respect, admiration and love. As Mary and I drove away from the hotels loading ramp, I caught sight of this person and RavenCons chairman and founder (as well as my very good friend) seated on the curb. Their obvious pain and anguish were heart-breakingly clear on their faces. So why, after more than four months, am I posting about this uncomfortable subject here on the RavenCon page? Because I want to apologize to my friends and colleagues for making it necessary for them to struggle over a decision that they hated to make but which was absolutely essential if they wanted the rest of the attendees this year to enjoy themselves. They did what they had to do, as kindly as they could and with all the love and respect for me that they could muster - which, I can tell you, was one hell of a lot. I am sorry, my very good and dear friends, and I can only hope that I have not lost that love and respect by my foolish denial. Thank you for the strength you showed me, which helped me more than I can say when I finally went to the hospital. I hope you can forgive me for my schmuckery.
Posted on: Tue, 26 Aug 2014 02:51:47 +0000
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