This afternoon, I heard what I had been fearing: Paul Farrow lost his hard-fought battle with cancer. My heart is broken. Cancer is a scourge. It takes our friends and family way too soon. It cuts short the lives of people who should have been able to stay with us longer. It is merciless
and no one can predict where it will strike. It has taken my father, my in-laws, and too many more dear friends to count.
This time it cut short Paul Farrow’s life. Many will be writing to extol his accomplishments, which are too many to count. The tributes will roll in, as they should. But, I want to focus on the personal side.
Paul has been a steady voice of support, comfort, compassion, and humor for me. He has always been there to lend a hand, a shoulder to cry on, to tell a joke, to just be my friend. His wife Amy, with whom I went to grade through high school, was the light of his life. Behind the scenes, the two of them were an unbelievable example of true love. That light has not shown more brightly than since Paul’s diagnosis. When you think of Paul, remember Amy, if our loss is stark (and it is), imagine hers.
Even though I have a heavy heart. I want to leave you with a spark of light and hope. My life, my husband Tom’s life, and all of your lives, are better just for having Paul here with us in Wisconsin. He stood up for our State, my home county of Waukesha, and all of us, every day. He was a beacon of goodness and an inspiration. Some lights never diminish, even when death darkens their door. Paul is like that: his light, his smile, his laughter, his hard work and dedication, his legacy as the real deal will never dim.
Farewell, Paul. You will never know how much you will be missed.
