I never knew Carl Hoeckner, but Carl and my father were dear friends. My father died suddenly before I had a chance to get back to him, and Carl wrote me the loveliest letter, telling me that he misses my father more than any friend, that my father in fact made him a better person. He included photos of my father, also of he and my father. From what another of their friends told me, they enjoyed deep conversations, dancing together, and traveling to visit friends. I can imagine this, because my father was wonderful in these ways, and I was warmed, happy to hear about it, that they had such a good friendship.
My grief was so full of unresolved questions - I had a disability that had me in bad pain, then had to move. Carl’s letter got placed in one of many boxes, and it took me too long to finally find it. When I did, I was overjoyed. I wanted to call to thank Carl, speak with him. I wanted to tell him that I knew through his friend that his children had refused any contact with him, and I wanted to offer to try to contact them for him. That first attempt found him away. By the time I could try again, I learned he had died. My heart broke all over again. I am exquisitely sorry for my not getting to him much sooner, as well as to my father. Life can be such a difficult journey. Perhaps he and his children were able to find their way to one another. If not, I hope that reading this, if they could, might help. I know that this is one of the best things my father was able to help with for Carl. And so I wish this gentle man farewell, and wish him all things best in his next journey forward. Hopefully, Carl and my father, Bill, are enjoying each other’s company as they do.
My grief was so full of unresolved questions - I had a disability that had me in bad pain, then had to move. Carl’s letter got placed in one of many boxes, and it took me too long to finally find it. When I did, I was overjoyed. I wanted to call to thank Carl, speak with him. I wanted to tell him that I knew through his friend that his children had refused any contact with him, and I wanted to offer to try to contact them for him. That first attempt found him away. By the time I could try again, I learned he had died. My heart broke all over again. I am exquisitely sorry for my not getting to him much sooner, as well as to my father. Life can be such a difficult journey. Perhaps he and his children were able to find their way to one another. If not, I hope that reading this, if they could, might help. I know that this is one of the best things my father was able to help with for Carl. And so I wish this gentle man farewell, and wish him all things best in his next journey forward. Hopefully, Carl and my father, Bill, are enjoying each other’s company as they do.
Rick Sheridan 
