I was wishing to find words to praise Stan and express my grief for his loss without recurring to cliche but ended up concluding it was a futile desire. After all, Stan WAS great. And that's not an inertial affirmation of the kind people feel inclined to speak at the loss of a loved one. Stan WAS great and I know it in my heart, objectively and independently from how much I loved him (I'll spare the objective 'proof' of it though, because I am not writing his biography).
Stan was THE MOST generous, objective, optimistic, positive and understanding person I have ever met, and one of the most pragmatic, honest, supportive, helpful, intelligent, open-minded, humble, caring and loving. He was sensitive, congruent, pleasant, funny, witty and simply charming. His sense of morality was inexpressively enviable.
Put in the simplest sentence I can manage, Stan was the second person who influenced me the most and who I have admired the most so far in my life, only after my mother... (and those who know me well know that it would be utterly impossible for me to give anyone any higher praise).
I will never cease to wonder at how quickly Stan and I became friends.
I met him by becoming his Spanish tutor during the year I spent as an exchange student in Canada (2005, at UBC, in Vancouver). He was 65 and I was 20, but in spite of our age difference and the short duration of our friendship (~3.5 years) I had never had so many things in common with anyone.
I loved Stan so greatly that I didn't even think one could feel so much love for a friend. He has left such a deep mark in my life that I regard him as the closest example I've had of what an 'ideal' friend would be like... [I can only hope I'll learn how to make new friends without always comparing them to him...]
I used to nudge him to do exercise and take vitamins and would joke by demanding from him to live at least 'till he was 90, but now he has left way too soon... and I miss him SO much...
Stanley died of pneumonia the 13th of December, 2008, at the age of 69. I found out in January 2009 when I came back to Houston after spending the holidays in Mexico (Dec 13 - Jan 04). He had been in the hospital for about 3 months receiving radio and chemotherapy after loosing his ability to walk because of a gigantic tumor on soft tissue around his lower spine. The cancer had already metastasized to his liver and lungs. It might have been some remanent from when he had colon cancer in 2006, which was surgically removed -the post surgery screenings repeatedly showed everything was fine though; and he was so optimistic when talking to me on the phone that I was genuinely mislead to believe that he was on the road of recovery and would live at least a couple of years more (I knew his cancer was incurable, but not that it would kill him so fast).
Throughout last year the only hint of his illness was an evermore intensifying discomfort and pain in his lower back; quite misleading given that he had had lower back discomfort for the last 10 years after some silly muscular injury, and his colon cancer follow-ups, as well as other screenings didn't reveal anything troubling...
[Ahora resulta que me puede doler el meñique izquierdo que me quebré bailando ballet a los 5 años y que, pese a que tengo 200 años y soy artrítico, el dolor NO es una secuela por traumatismo muscular, reumático, neurológico, neuropático; ni siquiera retraso mental; NO, es cáncer... que casualmente ya me invadió todo el cuerpo, subrepticiamente].
I saw Stan for the last time when he visited me in Houston in February 2009, and talked to him on the phone for the last time (for less than a minute!) on Dec 08 or so.
Put in the simplest sentence I can manage, Stan was the second person who influenced me the most and who I have admired the most so far in my life, only after my mother... (and those who know me well know that it would be utterly impossible for me to give anyone any higher praise).
I will never cease to wonder at how quickly Stan and I became friends.
I met him by becoming his Spanish tutor during the year I spent as an exchange student in Canada (2005, at UBC, in Vancouver). He was 65 and I was 20, but in spite of our age difference and the short duration of our friendship (~3.5 years) I had never had so many things in common with anyone.I loved Stan so greatly that I didn't even think one could feel so much love for a friend. He has left such a deep mark in my life that I regard him as the closest example I've had of what an 'ideal' friend would be like... [I can only hope I'll learn how to make new friends without always comparing them to him...]
I used to nudge him to do exercise and take vitamins and would joke by demanding from him to live at least 'till he was 90, but now he has left way too soon... and I miss him SO much...Stanley died of pneumonia the 13th of December, 2008, at the age of 69. I found out in January 2009 when I came back to Houston after spending the holidays in Mexico (Dec 13 - Jan 04). He had been in the hospital for about 3 months receiving radio and chemotherapy after loosing his ability to walk because of a gigantic tumor on soft tissue around his lower spine. The cancer had already metastasized to his liver and lungs. It might have been some remanent from when he had colon cancer in 2006, which was surgically removed -the post surgery screenings repeatedly showed everything was fine though; and he was so optimistic when talking to me on the phone that I was genuinely mislead to believe that he was on the road of recovery and would live at least a couple of years more (I knew his cancer was incurable, but not that it would kill him so fast).
Throughout last year the only hint of his illness was an evermore intensifying discomfort and pain in his lower back; quite misleading given that he had had lower back discomfort for the last 10 years after some silly muscular injury, and his colon cancer follow-ups, as well as other screenings didn't reveal anything troubling...[Ahora resulta que me puede doler el meñique izquierdo que me quebré bailando ballet a los 5 años y que, pese a que tengo 200 años y soy artrítico, el dolor NO es una secuela por traumatismo muscular, reumático, neurológico, neuropático; ni siquiera retraso mental; NO, es cáncer... que casualmente ya me invadió todo el cuerpo, subrepticiamente].
I saw Stan for the last time when he visited me in Houston in February 2009, and talked to him on the phone for the last time (for less than a minute!) on Dec 08 or so.
He was SO good to me and gave me so much. I'll miss him for the rest of my life.
:'(
I don't know whether there's a 'Heaven' or not. But if there were, I'm sure Stan would be there in spite of his agnosticism. He was simply too good, too kind, too unawarely 'Christian' through his acts for any 'God' to leave him out of Heaven.
One thing I do know though, is that for as long as I have a memory, I will remember him and cherish the friendship we shared.
"It is your theory of love that cuts you off from love" -quote from one of Stan's essays. [He had a PhD in philosophy and was a university professor for ~30 years].
:'(
I don't know whether there's a 'Heaven' or not. But if there were, I'm sure Stan would be there in spite of his agnosticism. He was simply too good, too kind, too unawarely 'Christian' through his acts for any 'God' to leave him out of Heaven.
One thing I do know though, is that for as long as I have a memory, I will remember him and cherish the friendship we shared.
"It is your theory of love that cuts you off from love" -quote from one of Stan's essays. [He had a PhD in philosophy and was a university professor for ~30 years].
6 comments:
Given such a stunningly heartfelt and authentic eulogy posted here, I am equally stunned to be the first to post another. [I imagine that if all those he touched knew of this blog, there would be many, many more tributes. I, like them, failed to discover it in my own Web searches after I surmised Stan had died. A close friend of his and mine forwarded the link to me.]
Although my friendship with Stan was less intense and more cerebral, it nonetheless spanned a much longer time--- 40 years, from 1968, and warranted a comparable sense of gratitude, since he dramatically changed---and perhaps saved---my life.
We were both graduate students at Duke, during the Viet Nam war. As the political climate got uglier, he benevolently --- which is how he did everything--advised me to consider a Canadian university as a venue to further my Ph.D. studies. I took his advice--in the nick of time, so to speak--was awarded another fellowship and left for the North. Stan not only guided me, but also drove me the entire distance of perhaps 1000 miles---including a stop-over at my family home for farewells. More than that, he arranged a warm welcome for me at Bishops University and otherwise made sure my landing wasn't bumpy, on top of which, he lent me cash to tide me over until my fellowship kicked in---money he declined to accept in repayment, despite my joking that, with the interest, he could retire twice.
A "gentle giant", who could have doubled for James Arness in the "Gunsmoke" series decades back, he left all of our mutual acquaintances with the same positive memories and impressions.
Even if we do inhabit a universe with only a limited and short-term memory of us and our legacies, such moments of commemoration like these, of those, who like Stan, deserve to be commemorated, can light up the night like celebratory fireworks---however briefly.
Stan certainly deserves that much---and more.
Michael Moffa
Mike, thanks for your comment.
Stan mentioned you many times in various of his stories [I had already heard about how he took you to Canada].
I don't really know why no one else has commented on the post. Mostly, I think it's because none of my friends who might have read it knew much about Stan other than I had a friend somewhere in Canada who was 45 years older than me (something people always found to be odd; but, I've always gotten along very well, I might even say "better", with older people).
They wouldn't have had anything to say.
Others might just be shy.
Lastly, I don't think many (if any) of Stan's friends ever read this.
I sent a copy to my friend Anita (a now 71 year old lady) so that she could read it at Stan's celebration of life as I could not attend to the event myself.
[I'm guessing you were not there].
I was very glad to read your comment.
Dear Jesus,
Thank you for this heartfelt tribute, one of the only traces of Stan I have found on the internet (would that Carleton University's philosophy department thought to post something of their own). I was a graduate student at Carleton University in the early 1990s and so came to know Stan later in his career and for the brief time he was commuting from Toronto! I am sorry to say I only saw Stan once after I moved to England, we spent an afternoon together once I had returned to Toronto and he was visiting from Vancouver. Now I discover it was our last conversation. It makes me very happy to learn he had such a good friend in Vancouver. As you have written, he was a man of extraordinary kindness, compassion, good humour and possessed of a gentleness of spirit I do not believe I have ever encountered before or since.
If Stan is reading this from the great beyond, I want him to know I will finally read some Iris Murdoch as he had suggested.
Very best wishes and with my condolences for your loss,
Nick
Thank you for your kind memories. I too am sorry I didn't know of Stan's passing until now. I first met Stan at McMaster University in 1992 when he taught informal logic! How strange to recall him using such concrete parameters to express the world around us, when what I remember of him was warmth and an always welcoming personality. We had little contact after this but I ran into him once in Ottawa, visited him when he rented this quaint carriage house behind another house in Toronto, and after he'd moved into a beautiful house nearby that more suited his spirit. He was trying to explain to me his research on Iris Murdoch and I'm glad he contributed so much in his lifetime.
Carl Lee, M.D.
I just found out today about Stan's passing. I was a student of Stan's at Carleton, back in 1981. He was the chairman of the Department of Philosophy at the time, and was the main reason I majored in philosophy. I had been thinking of Stan recently, and was very surprised to learn of his passing. It sounds as if Stan was in Vancouver in 2005. Is that right? That is a shame, as I have lived in the Vancouver area since 1993, and would have really enjoyed connecting with him again after all these years.
Yes, he lived in Vancouver ever since he retired (which was actually a bit early).
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