This is being posted by Amy, Rich’s wife, at his request.
On November 27, 2018 I died.
Yeah, that’s it folks. I fought this fucking disease as long and hard as I could but it’s over.
The ironic thing is that in having multiple myeloma I learned what life really is about for me and how to be a good human being. Unfortunately, and again thanks to the multiple myeloma, I wasn’t able to do much with that knowledge with what little time, energy and almost constant pain I was left with, and due to the damage the drugs had already done.
Fuck you, Dexamethasone.
I don’t leave a lot of regrets behind with one exception that those of you who’ve subscribed to my words over the years should know by now … the experiences this disease has stolen from me from having with my daughter, Ariana. I’ll admit it, I’m a little afraid of death, but I’m more just devastated that I won’t be there for her any more, won’t be able to answer her questions about life and how to do things, etc. The pain of that, the seeming unfairness, has haunted me since I was first diagnosed and never gone away — which you know, again, if you’ve read along with me as I chronicled this nightmare.
I wish I had something pithy or deep to say here, but quite honestly the pain of writing this is so severe that outside of more f-bombs I have nothing for you. There’s no deep lesson to be learned from a terminal disease. This is not “God’s Plan” or some other religious safety blanket you tell other people but never really believe yourself. This is just double 7’s on the dice, and I lost. And so did those who loved me.
Thanks, to those of you I interacted with and who read my words, especially those who took something from them. Although they were mostly for Ariana they were for you, too, and I appreciate your patronage and friendship.
So goodbye, and if you ever meet an Ariana Stark tell her her daddy loved her like nobody’s daddy ever had before.