" I gave life my best shot."

If you're reading this, I have passed away or died, if you will, since I actually wrote this obituary and, in order to avoid confusion, I requested that it not be published while I was still alive.

Most likely, I was not carried off to my maker on the wings of angels as I have read in other obituaries mainly because I don't believe in that stuff. That said, and here's something to ponder, maybe I was carried off to my maker on the wings of angels. If I can figure out a way, I'll let you know.

If this paragraph is included in this obituary, then I went out on my own terms as they say in obituaries here in Vermont. I certainly didn't come here because that avenue was available – 'cuz it wasn't when I first got here. But Act 39 became the law and, given my medical situation, I thought it wise to take advantage of it. A shout out to the oncology teams at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston and The Foley Cancer Center in Rutland for their medical care, knowledge, and support. That said, please become a strong advocate for your health care issues. Demand that your medical team listens to you and takes appropriate action. If you're going to take charge of any aspect of your life make it your health care.

Here is my goodbye to friends, family, and the world at large.

I could bore you to tears with somewhat useless information like my mother's maiden name, but she was born, raised, and died in Cleveland, Ohio and hardly anybody who will read this knew her. Her first name was Lynn, which she changed from Yetlyn - what were my grandparents thinking? And my dad's name was Donald. He was also born and raised and died in Cleveland. His parents didn't give him a middle name, which only became a problem as far as I knew when he bought a suitcase with three slots for your initials, which he couldn't use because the little pile of letters to slide into the slots didn't include a blank. Life can be cruel and challenging can't it?

I could also bore you to further tears with a recitation of the schools I attended and positions I held as I trudged my way up the corporate ladder, but I won't. Except for the fact that I made the Dean's List at a very fine university in Cleveland much to my surprise and the surprise of virtually all of my family and friends. And I ended up my corporate career near the top of the heap.

What might be of interest is what happened after I came to Vermont when I retired from the corporate world. A well-meaning team of Brits had acquired our company in Cleveland and despite their good intentions, ran it into the ground rather quickly. Fortunately, some of us saw this as a possibility and we sold all of our stock before the proverbial sh** hit the proverbial fan. Life can be rewarding if you pay careful attention to what's happening around you.

Here's what is important however - at least to me.

I can proudly say that I gave life my best shot - except for not learning how to speak Spanish and driving along the edge of mountain roads with or without guardrails. I really did. What else can be expected of us? Whether it was my corporate life wherein I rose to a senior position in a very large and successful international company and got to enjoy the "fruits of my labor" (actually what I enjoyed were the dollars in my paycheck as well as my accomplishments) or in my civic, cultural, and social volunteer life wherein I most often rose to positions of leadership whether I wanted to or not because I was blessed with the ability to clearly express myself and my ideas verbally and in writing - thanks for that gene pool thing dad - and the ability to rally the troops to get stuff done. Not to mention my sense of humor which often served to keep things on track and in a lighter vein.

Here is the real cool part. I had a lot of fun in the process. It appears as though I have to also thank my dad's gene pool for my sense of humor. Once at a family dinner when I was just a child, my uncle asked my dad to pass the mashed potatoes. So he did. He scooped up a load of mashed potatoes in his right hand and tossed it down the table to my uncle's plate. He literally "passed the mashed potatoes." Moments like that stay with you. As they say, some people put lampshades on lamps and some people put lampshades on their heads.

Some might say that I was opinionated, irascible, and did not suffer fools. Well, for the most part they were right. And these traits got somewhat worse as I got older. But, I had boundless enthusiasm and energy for those things that interested me and were of value to my community, my family, my friends, and perhaps the world at large and I was always a powerful advocate for civility and for a job well done.

So I joined a gaggle - or maybe it was a slew - of boards and commissions to share with these organizations whatever talents I had acquired over the years. I served as a volunteer counselor with the Service Corp of Retired Executives (SCORE) to help small businesses get started or achieve their goals. I was a member of the Woodstock Rotary Club where my most important achievement as I saw it was managing the process of bringing into Woodstock and sending out to a bunch of foreign countries high school students on a very rewarding youth exchange program. I served for years first as a regular member and then as chair of the Village Design Review Board. I was a volunteer driver for the American Cancer Society Road to Recovery Program providing rides for area cancer patients who needed transportation for their medical appointments. I was chair of the Mertens House Board of Directors. I served on the Board of the Thompson Senior Center. For several years I served on the Osher@Dartmouth Leadership Council and chaired the Marketing and Communications Committee. I was a volunteer mentor in the Shining Light Mentoring Program. I was a member of the Board of Directors of the Woodstock Area Chamber of Commerce. And so on and so on. I hope I made a difference.

I must devote some serious space to Barbara. Although we met rather late in life (at ages 63 and 57) after we both had numerous relationships and worldly experiences, and we clashed every now and then over things that weren't terribly important, although they seemed so at the time, she was a most surprising and wonderful companion. A "foodie" of the highest order, I always marveled at how she would stare into the refrigerator and into the cupboards, pull out various packages and containers, and voila, a meal fit for those with far more discerning pallets than mine came forth. She was also a superb travel companion and much more adventurous than I. Yet we made that difference work as well. She gardened like a demon creating a glorious yard with stunning views out of every window in our home. She was one with nature. It made her very special. And, she was the smartest person that I ever met. We challenged each other's intellect constantly. And, finally, she laughed a lot - a robust and hearty laugh. What a joy.

It really was a shame that we couldn't have spent more time together. We said when we first met that we didn't have the chance to grow up together, but we were going to grow old together. If I may quote Emmylou Harris for a moment, "It's a miracle when one soul finds another/it's a sad day when one must leave the other/someday we'll walk again together." Abby (an inside joke) ilywamhasawf.

I should devote a little space to sports. Always a jock, I wrestled and ran track in my youth and ran a couple of 26.2-mile marathons when I was supposedly wise enough and old enough to know better. That said, crossing the finish line at the end of my first marathon was a moment I remember to this day. My goal was to finish standing up and so I did. I also played golf in my youth, quit for 40 years or so and came back to the game much later in life. I was enough of a jock to think that I could actually improve my game well into my 70's and I actually did once I figured out how to accommodate hand troubles brought on by the aging process and arthritis. Thanks mom for that gene. Golf has been called the unwinnable game - and so it is. However, it's a wonderful way to commune with nature and with your inner self. And it is much more than "a good walk spoiled" as Mark Twain called it. I agree with long-retired and now deceased golfer Chi-Chi Rodriguez who said, "Golf is the most fun you can have without taking your clothes off." My only golfing regret is that I made my only hole-in-one while I was playing alone. That said, if I had been playing with a group, I would have probably dropped that tee shot right into the creek in front of the green.

A few thoughts about music in my life. Perhaps another nod to the gene pool from my dad who dragged me almost kicking and screaming to Severance Hall in Cleveland when I was merely a child to hear the world-renowned Cleveland Symphony Orchestra. It all stuck. Mostly classical, but opera and popular music as well, simply moved me and touched my heart and my soul. From Wagner to Bernstein. From Pavarotti to Willie Nelson. From Maria Callas to the incomparable Nancy Wilson. So, I prepared a compendium of most of my favorites, which will be playing continually at a gathering of those who care to gather to say a rather belated goodbye. Belated because I won't be there except in spirit as they say. I have asked Barbara to make the necessary arrangements for this extremely modest event.

I need to thank all of my friends for all of the wonderful dinners, parties, excursions, concerts, and laughs we shared over the years. I also want to thank everybody I served and worked with on various boards, commissions, and committees. Collectively, we did some really good work and we accomplished a lot. There are way too many to mention individually and, of course, if I tried I'd inadvertently leave somebody out and I'd never be forgiven. You all know who you are.

Being of sound mind and body, at least I was when I wrote this, I gave away virtually all that I had acquired over the years through a will and trust. Fortunately, Barbara didn't need the money and it was my feeling that several small local non-profit organizations could each use a pile of cash more than large national organizations that reach out to the government and the mega-rich for their funding. I hope my donations will be spent wisely and will help improve this wonderful state and community.

Finally, I am survived by approximately 7.15 billion people, but I'll only mention my sons Jared Bendis of Cleveland, OH, Brian Bendis of Portland, OR, my brothers Robert Bendis of Cleveland, OH and Jonathan Bendis of New York, NY.

There you have it in a nutshell. A rather large nutshell, but a nutshell nonetheless.