I’ll Fly Away

The man on the right in this picture is Gary. His daughter gave me permission to share this story.
Gary was one of my favorite patients and a good friend. This picture was taken during one of my house calls to the assisted living facility where he lived. My house calls were at least an hour long and I think we played music for 45 minutes of most of them.
Gary had a very weak heart, but he was comfortable with his mortality. He walked with Jesus and was secure in his eternal future. He loved his family and friends on this mortal coil, but was ready to go to the next, having been preceded in death by his beloved wife and son. Due to his chronic illness, we’ve all known Gary was living on borrowed time, and we have been prepared to grieve his loss.
Grieving your lost patients is not unique to a Direct Primary Care physician. I went to a handful of patient funerals when I was on the inside. But I almost never got to make house calls when I was on the inside. If I did, I certainly didn’t have an hour to spend really getting to know and love my patients. I didn’t have them over for dinner once a week, as I did with Gary for many months after he lost his wife.
I’m not saying I wouldn’t have been close to Gary working inside the system, but there is zero doubt whatsoever that DPC gave me the time not only to create, but to cultivate this and many other relationships. This is what the authentic practice of medicine is all about, and it’s what DPC allows us to do.
Last night, after a long life of serving his community, his church, his family, and touching the lives of countless children (including both of mine) selflessly sacrificing his time teaching them music, Gary peacefully died in his sleep.
But I suspect he’s still here. Let me tell you why.
When we’d sit down for a jam session, we’d play bluegrass tunes and old gospel songs. I’ll Fly Away is a song we frequently enjoyed playing. Without exception, every time we played it, Gary would say:
“If you guys don’t play this at my funeral, I ain’t leavin’.”
So in a few days, we’ll gather at the church. It will be overflowing. Dozens of musicians whose life Gary touched will arrive, instruments in-hand. Many of those instruments will be ones Gary built or repaired with his arthritic hands. With happy tears flowing, we’ll send Gary to the open arms of his Savior, serenaded just as he always wanted, to the loudest acoustic rendition of I’ll Fly Away that any of us has ever heard.





Thank you for sharing. You epitomize the true meaning of doctor.
I love this story…it is the essence of why we do what we do and shows how we all can have wonderful bidirectional impacts on our lives including patients back to ours. I often think that I can’t wait to “Fly Away” to go where he is now but until that appointed time we must seek better ways to allow these impacts and relationships to happen more while here and in medicine that is the DPC model. Thanks Dr. Lassey for this story and oh what I would have given to be ‘fly on the wall’ during your jam sessions with Mr. Gary!