Of Bubba teeth, "Jingle Bells," and falling up stairs

"The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." (Job 1:21 b, ESV)
I would dare say that except for Jenny Quinn fourteen years ago, I have never truly lost someone that I have considered a friend in my life. I've lost grandparents, an aunt and an uncle. None of those losses have impacted me like the one today.
I am proud to be one of the numerous thousands that could consider Tony Greene a friend. Tony died today at 4:25 p.m. He leaves behind a wife, TaRanda, two daughters, Belle and Josie, and memories too varied and numerous to count for whoever harbors them.
He was an excellent businessman, running his own concert promotion business and managing a singing group. He was a funeral director. He had been a music leader in church. He was an excellent singer. My goodness, he was a comedian. He was a great husband, father, brother, uncle...you name it.
Thanks to my brother, I was able to remember the fun times. On a Wednesday night, he stood to lead the music, and sang the songs WEARING BUBBA TEETH. I remember it as vividly as I see the screen in front of me. The songs, I don't remember: I couldn't sing one of them for laughing so hard. "Jingle Bells" was his all-time classic story about the woman wanting this song sang at her husband's funeral, which he did, only for her to realize she meant "When They Ring Those Golden Bells."
My brother and I were with them at a church south of Hickory, NC, for a concert. As they were introduced, Nic Holland, who was filling in for Tim Greene, went up the stairs, but never made it. Tony laughed, snorted, laughed, snorted, until he could no longer contain his snot. It was classic Tony, and Nic did eventually live it down.
I remember nights at Wendy's, Los Arcos in Boone, and meeting him for a sandwich at Hannah's BBQ here in Lenoir. My brother and I ate with them at Outback in Hickory the night wrestler Owen Hart fell to his death (I have a weird way of combining memories). The man knew a good restaurant.
One of his favorite songs I remember was "I Cannot Find the Way Alone" by Albert E. Brumley. I was looking at the words tonight, and have been singing it to myself. I could not do it with the same feeling he could, but it takes me to that special place, with those special people, back many years ago.
Today, God called a special saint home weeks before his 42nd birthday. That is the sad part. Yet consider this-no more dialysis. No more kidney rejection. No more gout. No more pneumonia. No more bus problems. His quality of life is greatly improved. I pray for his family. TaRanda, Belle, Josie, mother Carolyn, Tim and Kim, everyone.
Tonight, when I got out of class, I went to Hannah's BBQ. I decided to have a Chopped BBQ sandwich and Fries in tribute to my friend. I think my brother did the same. The fries were definitely the best I ever had from there. The sandwich was, as well. Farewell, my friend. I will see you in a little while.