when i was a little girl, my parents had a friend named jeff. he was a dear friend who was always happy. he always was willing to help when anyone needed him. Every christmas, he would come to the house and I always made chocolate pies. (at the age of 10 that was the only thing i could make.) He always ate a piece. every year for years.I never realized that he was allergic to chocolate. he never complained. He would always eat it and when he went home he would become violently sick. I never felt really close to him but i really liked him. One day, he came to my house to talk to my parents. he was diagnosed with non hodgkins lymphoma. I was devastated. I did not realize just how much he meant to me. For years he fought this awful disease. he went into remission and we were all so happy. when he went to the hospital I would make him a chocoalte pie but his wife told me that he was allergic so i made him a banana cream pie. come to find out, he was allergic to the coconut that i put on top.he was just a sweet man. Then one day, he got the news that it was back. he gained so much weight from fluid. he would have to go every so often to have the fluid drained because he could not breathe. he had congestive heart failure from the cancer. When I turned 17, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. I became obsessed with the scales and losing weight until it took over my life. I passed out and went into a seizure. I walked into his hospital room and told him what happened. he did not let it show but he was very concerned. A couple of days later, when my parents were completely aware of my problem, they were threatening to put me in thew hospital and have a feeding tube put in. Of course i did not think I had a problem so i fought them. My dad was talking to Jeff in his hospital room. he was discharged from the hospital and was told to go home because he should not be out being so sick. well he did not go home, he came straight to my house and talked to me for the longest time. he made me promise that i would eat for him. I had a really hard time with it but I tried. I saw him every week and we would just sit and talk. well a year went by and the end was near. he was in the hospital. he was on morphine for pain. My parents came to my work to tell me that he did not have long to live and to go and see him. I left work and went straight to the hospital. he looked well. he was happy and joking around. we talked for a while and before I left, I gave him a hug and tood him that i loved him. That was the first time that I ever said that to him. 2 days later, I was talking about him with my dad. I just felt like i should talk about him. It was at that moment that he died. we got a call and he was finally at peace. They induced coma on him for the last day or so to make him comfortable. I was devastated. I always said that when I got married that he was going to be walking me down the aisle with my dad. The wake was really hard, when I walked into the funeral home and saw him, i tried not to cry but i could not help it. I ran out of the parlor and tried to regain my composure. I stayed right there until it was time to take him away to his final resting place. 2 years later, I got married. My parents walked me down the aisle. I was on my way to the church when I realized that I forgot something really important. I made my parents turn around and go back home. I forgot his picture. He was in a tuxedo. he did walk me down the aisle that day. In spirit and in that picture that I put in my boquet. I miss him greatly and i wish that he was here but I will someday see him again.