I liked seeing the frequent postings of photos, old and new, that were all available for purchase. Already the owner of one of his photographs, I mused about buying more and even talked to him, via FB msgs, about possibly buying another one this past year.
But a couple of weeks ago, the photos were replaced with postings about his illness, even a couple of selfies of him in the hospital looking alaramingly ill. I was happy to see a post last week that said he was at home and looking forward to a full recovery. Then, just a couple of days later, the weekend FB feed showed an outpouring of grief over his death Friday.
I was stunned and saddened by the loss of a nice, talented man who seemed definitely too young (53) to die. I thought of how vibrant his life seemed in San Antonio, how he was loved and admired.
Then, selfishly, I thought about how I was about the same age and how terrible it would be, to me, to die right now! Seems there are so many things to do - write that book, get to know my biological family better, lose those 10 pounds, find a place in the country.
So I came back here today to this blog to get back into its purpose, to write about the precious moments we are given during this brief stay on Earth.
I think Rick Hunter must have used his time right. I met him back around 1995 when I first started working for the San Antonio Express-News. He was a good-looking photographer who was into his work. I can remember asking him about the barbed-wire tattoo he had around the base of his (marriage) ring finger. It's a reminder, he said. What a rogue, I thought, in a nice way.
But I always admired his work and I wondered if he ever settled down. Seems he did, sort of. The obituary talked his partner of 17 years, a beautiful woman who said she loved him with all her heart, even though it was very hard to sometimes. Her comment made me think of the tattoo - and how agonizing it can be sometimes to love a man. I guess that's what happens when you happen onto such an emotional bond.
RIP Rick Hunter. I am sorry you had to leave so early. Below is a photo by Rick and a poem by his partner, Shelbi Lyn.
