07/26/2026
Gary loved to give everybody around him a hard time. He intentionally came to his skin checks with the darkest tan just so we could have our annual debate about who was darker. We would take a picture at every visit to compare our tones with tans. It became our tradition and our running joke.
I would remind him about the risk of skin cancer. He would shrug and tell me not to worry because he had me to take care of it. And we did. For years.
But eventually another disease began taking over. His jokes became difficult to understand. His tan slowly faded. Even then he never stopped trying to make me laugh. Gary and Diane still came together to every appointment, determined to keep life as normal as possible.
Then one day Diane came in alone. Gary was too weak to walk into the office and was waiting in the car. I stepped outside to see him. And I am glad I did. Because that was the last time I ever saw him.
Exactly four years after we took our annual photo on August 10th 2020, we gathered at a church to celebrate Gary’s life. There was not a dry eye in the room. I learned something new about Gary. Apparently he loved making Mexican food, and sharing with his neighbors- while wearing nothing but a Speedo. We laughed while crying.
Somehow I found the courage to speak. As his dermatologist I joked that I had probably seen more of Gary’s skin than anyone else in the room. We all burst into laughter. I think Gary would have loved that moment. If he had tried my fiery salsas, he would have given them a thumbs up.
Some souls leave a great mark on you and your heart. You come from different worlds, and yet you connect instantly. That was Gary.
Thank you, Gary, for every laugh, every spirited argument about sunscreen, and every reminder that medicine is not only about treating disease. Sometimes it is about sharing joy, even on the hardest days.
Rest easy, my friend ❤️
