That I was his friend at all was itself something of a minor miracle since he often chose the talented and famous as friends, but he justified my friendship I suppose by elevating me to the status of “crackerjack computer professional” who was able to help him up off the “floor in a pool of blood” as he bombastically would describe the occasional difficulties he encountered in using his computer.  However those problems and questions occurred often enough that from about 2004 until his stroke ended our ability to communicate regularly, we spoke almost every day by Skype.  He would often even call to ask me to hold his “virtual hand” as he opened some piece of correspondence he had received that he feared might contain ominous or unwelcome news. 

The picture above at the right, taken by his friend Wayne Gallasch, was his favorite picture of himself.  Holding Maxe in his arms and wearing that rakish, leather Aussie hat that Greg Dixon gave him and his favorite coveralls is the way I will choose to remember him for it was the quintessential Paul that I knew in happier times. 

I invite you to read back through the entries he made here on this blog when you want to enjoy his brilliant writing and wit, and I encourage you, his other friends, to use the comments section below this entry to post your memories of him and to celebrate the unique soul that he was.  I think we might all agree that the Heavenly Choir had better be on its toes and sing on key or he may just get up and walk out at intermission.

I feel sure that you find this picture of him to be as reassuring as I do.  There is not much other news of note about his health except to say that in response to my queries Wolfgang has confirmed that he isn’t suffering any life-threatening health problems at the present.

Paul has suffered for some time with a disequilibrium that was the cause of his falling and breaking the bone for which he was hospitalized and that difficulty maintaining his balance persisted during this time at home.  The terrain of his apartment is somewhat treacherous for someone who isn’t steady on his feet, so he needed assistance moving from his bed to his chair and elsewhere in his apartment.  In addition his ability to carry on a conversation continued to deteriorate, despite the fact that his intellectual functioning remains good.

A few weeks ago however he became delirious due to having become dehydrated so it was necessary for him to be re-hospitalized.    At this point it became apparent that if he were to live in his apartment with Maxe, he was going to have to have a live-in nurse.  To hire a registered nurse to live with him in his home full time would have been prohibitively expensive, so a plan was devised whereby Paul would have a live-in attendant and regular visits by a registered nurse.  Before that plan could be ruled upon, it was necessary for Paul to be released from the hospital since the immediate crisis (his dehydration) had been resolved.  Therefore Paul was transferred to a nursing home for the elderly until the doctors and Paul’s court-appointed guardian could meet to decide about the proposed plan.

Yesterday, I received news that Paul will remain at that home “for the time being.”  My correspondent told me that he had visited Paul in the nursing home where he spends a good deal of his day in the bed but that he enjoys having visitors, despite his difficulty in communicating.  Maxe, I am told, has been placed with a family in Wilmersdorf.

While the phrase “for the time being” seems to offer some hope that some other living arrangement may be in the future, I also think there is a possibility that this arrangement will become Paul’s permanent home going forward.  I have been informed that he is still able to read, though he is not able to write of course, so he can receive letters and cards if you wish to communicate with him.  His address, should you wish to visit or write him, is Haus Friedenshöhe, Sigismundkorso 68-70, D-13465 Berlin.

Once his stay in the rehab facility is over, the group of his friends who are overseeing his care have determined that it would be best if they hire a nurse on a 24 hour basis who will room in his apartment with him at Wilhelmsaue.  While I can imagine that Paul will see having a “roommate” as not too welcome, that arrangement does have the distinct advantage that he’ll be in his own familiar environment with Maxe at his side.  Paul has long said that Maxe was his “only family,” and a couple of months ago he told me that he had decided that he didn’t want to outlive Maxe who is about 12 years old I believe.  A wagging tail apparently does more for one’s spirits than all the medicine Man has devised.

I haven’t spoken with Paul since the Monday before his hospitalization, and I don’t anticipate doing so until he returns to his home.  For any of you in or around Berlin who may wish to visit him, I am told he is in Section 2, Room 53 at the Wiechernkrakenhaus.

Wolfgang confirmed something  I also noted in my last conversation with Paul this past Monday that his speech has become very difficult to understand, an almost unintelligible mumbling.  However, he did manage to understand Paul’s plaintive question, “why is this happening to me?”   And he noted, quite accurately I think, that Paul is very depressed.

I regret that I do not know which hospital Paul is in, but Wolfgang has promised to keep me informed when there is any further news about his condition, and when I get that news I’ll post it here of course.  Please keep Paul in your thoughts and prayers.

Paul and I met, as I said in that first essay, online in iLink Writers in the early 1990s. We’ve been in each other’s physical presence only two times during our entire friendship — once in 1995 in San Francisco for less than a week and once in Berlin in 2003 for about two weeks, when Paul invited me into his home. Back then I was much more committed to blogging than I am now, so I wrote about that 2003 visit with Paul rather extensively (beginning here and continuing for about 16 consecutive entries until this one).

But through the years we’ve become closer as friends as we’ve moved further apart physically. Perhaps the irony is that there’s an inverse correlation between physical proximity and being really close friends. I’m sure if he and I were confined in the same space for any prolonged period of time, we’d drive each other insane. He tolerates me best, and with just cause, in small doses.

When I think of him, it is with great fondness and profound admiration. I really like him and spending time with him, in spite of himself. I sense he feels the same about me, and I find that very rewarding.

Today is his 86th birthday, so I want to tell him this.

Paul, I hope you get what you want for your birthday, whatever that is. I have already gotten everything I could have possibly hoped for in return for the time I have spent being your friend. I look forward to whatever time we have left to share.

I love you, Paul, and I thank you for rewarding me with your friendship.

To those of you who may read this, I invite you to write your own essay about your friend Paul in the comments below. And even if you can’t get it completed on his birthday, I’m sure he will treasure reading how you describe your friendship with him, and it will give you a way to share your wishes for him. Thank you, if you take the time to do so.

I’ve just spent the last 45 minutes on the phone with him, helping him resolve a computer issue that he was having. I was only able to do that because Dr. Wolfgang Petri made me aware of and assisted by installing a program called TeamViewer on Paul’s computer with which I can connect to his system and provide him remote assistance. This application is free for non-commercial use, as it is being used in this case to help a recovering friend who is 4,586 miles away from where I live. I must pause for a moment and reflect on the fact that I think that’s pretty doggone cool. Paul too was very impressed by how well it worked.

Today’s conversation was the longest and most productive he and I have had since his stroke almost a year ago now. He is doing much better, I’m pleased to say. He can communicate reasonably well though he still has trouble with particular words or concepts and his memory is not what it once was. Today I asked his permission to interrupt him when I noticed his beginning to bog down trying to communicate something IF I thought I knew what he was saying. He agreed to allow me to do that, in the interest of having a more fluid conversation, and to not interpret my interruption as being rude. Normally, I give him plenty of time to say things, but for some time now, I’ve been having to reflect what I understood him to have said to ask him for confirmation if I were right, and that has helped us communicate even when he was having the most trouble speaking. He will even occasionally say something like, we’ll I’m not making much sense so let’s put this conversation off until later. That’s easy enough to do, so most of our conversations are for no more than 10 to 20 minutes in length.

Earlier this week on Monday when I spoke with him, he was very concerned about Maxe who was behaving listlessly, causing Paul to believe he was ill. I did not call yesterday because I didn’t see Paul online and presumed he might be attending to Maxe. When I didn’t see him online again today, I called primarily to check on Maxe but of course also on Paul. He greeted me enthusiastically, more or less as someone who was being washed away by a fast-flowing river and had already gone down twice might do. He related his computer problems to me, which was the metaphorical river that was sweeping him away, and we managed to connect via the TeamViewer program, which enabled me to solve the problems. Once we had addressed that technical crisis, I was pleased to learn that Maxe had made a miraculous recovery the next day and was back to his usual barking, tail-wagging self, much to Paul’s relief.

Some of you have asked me to talk about how Maxe was fairing and how his needs were being met. Those charged with visiting Paul on a daily basis walk Maxe frequently, but Paul no longer goes out on Maxe’s walks with him. Paul does leave the house on occasion with friends who stop by and take him to dinner and other outings. To be honest though, I do not have a sense of how frequently those outings take place. People like Wolfgang stop by and visit with Paul and help him with things that need to be done, from his television to his computer. So he isn’t isolated and without company. I can guess that there may be times when he’d like people there more often, but there may also be times when more people are there than he was used to before. When he and Maxe are there alone together, Maxe is often playing the role of a lap robe, keeping Paul’s lap warm while they watch television together.

As Paul’s 86th birthday approaches on March 3, 2010, I’d have to say that my friend and yours has made significant progress in recovering many, though not yet all, of his abilities.

His speech remains a struggle for him because although he knows what he wants to say, he has trouble getting the right word to come out. It is something that he finds “more than frustrating” but he continues to work in the hope that he’ll be able to communicate more fluently in the coming year.

May you all enjoy your holidays and have a very successful and joyful new year.

My most recent conversations with him indicate that he is doing as well as can be expected, but his stroke, coupled with his apparently approaching dementia, have resulted in his almost total inability to do things on the Internet that he used to do. Both he and I mourn the passage of that milestone, but he continues to want to interact with the world, despite his limitations. Alas, we are all therefore condemned to my imperfect attempts to convey what he might have said or wanted to say if he were still able.

Please know that he loves you and appreciates all of you and your continued interest in him and his welfare.