I went to dinner with a friend tonight. She and I had a serious relationship a couple of decades ago, but it didn't work out. We have been going out to lunch or dinner on a weekly basis for a couple of years now. It's nothing serious (neither one of us wants that), but it's just a chance to get out of our houses and talk about anything and everything.

She mentioned something, almost in passing. "I have some bad news. I have cancer. It's colon cancer, and it's big. I'll know more the next time I see the doctor."

The announcement stunned me. I remember that her sister, who was also a friend of mine, had died of vaginal cancer.

And I couldn't help but go over a memory of another friend of mine named Mike. This happened some years ago.

He was our friend, and he was dying. That's all that mattered.

I met Mike and Ken at Archon 2 in 1978. Ken had done some fillos (filler illustrations) for a mutual friend's fanzine, and I was impressed by them. I found that Mike was an illustrator also.

There we all were, sitting at a table. The discussion turned to the TV show Lost in Space. Mike and Ken admitted to being fans. The talk drifted to doing fanzines, and Ken mentioned the name LISFAN, which is short for Lost n Space Fan.

There it was: that defining moment in all of our lives, when LISFAN was born: it was a moment that would shape our lives for decades.

We were staying at Stan Musial and Biggie's Hotel. Marty had gotten a room, and we all agreed to chip in. I'm afraid our enthusiasm got the best of us: we talked about all number of subjects into the night.

The people next to us were not as energized: they started banging on the wall, telling us to shut up. We, of course, needed to do something about all of that. We stacked all of our empty soda cans outside of their door, and left a note: "The management would like to thank you for staying here. Here are some empty cans."

Looking back at that, it wasn't particularly funny, or even clever. But it's the sort of thing people in their early 20s who have had hardly any sleep do. I'm sure we thought it was hilarious at that time.

At another Archon, I remember all of us going, and not getting rooms. I had packed a suitcase. I remembered having a vivid dream about someone leading me from the hotel lobby couch where I was sleeping, to the convention's video room, and me dropping my suitcase every few feet.

I opened my eyes, and Mike was sitting next to me. The first Star Trek movie was playing on a video screen.

"Change the channel," I said to Mike.

"I wish I could."

LISFAN eventually came out in 1981, with new issues coming out at two year intervals. Mike did a lot of artwork for the issues. Ken was the artist the fans paid the most attention to. While Mike was a good artist in his own right, he was never up to Ken's skill level.

I remember one cover Mike had done for me. I told him I wanted a "headlight cover." Fans of comic books know what that means. Sure enough, he delivered: a 48DDD Judy Robinson was being attacked by monsters.

To my shame, I went to Ken, who did some corrections on the illustration. I didn't use it as the outside back cover; rather, it was on the inside back cover. Mike was not happy.

But here is the thing: Mike forgave me instantly, doing illustrations, and such things as comic strips, throughout LISFAN's run. He did work all through the last issue of LISFAN in 1992.

At this point we had lost contact with Mike. We had heard stories about his coming out of the closet, as a gay man. This surprised none of us. I think the group reaction was "Oh, that explains a lot."

Maybe Mike thought we wouldn't understand. We didn't care. He was our friend, and that is all that mattered. We wanted to hear from him, and shared what little third hand information we got.

I met Mike again a few years later at a local SF convention. He was working for the hotel that held the convention. He was in good shape, and had a smartly trimmed mustache.

Our conversation was brief, as he had work to do. "If you're going to do anything with fanzines, I'd like to help," he said. At that point, I was doing small press books, and didn't need any illustrations. He didn't give me his phone number, and I didn't ask for it.

Years passed. Mike was living with a partner, and as it turns out he had picked the best person for him at that time in his life.

Mike was dying. It was said that he had some sort of cancer. I'll just leave it at that.

Ken, Kerry (another friend of his from the LISFAN days), and myself decided to visit Mike. I brought along a videotape and a book I had recently done.

Mike was in bad shape. He was bedridden, and he couldn't speak. His partner, Randy, was doing everything he could to make Mike's last days comfortable. The living room had been converted into a bedroom for Mike, complete with a big screen TV.

I remember there were lots of cats there. Cats can be a tremendous comfort.

Randy told m about the situation, his voice almost breaking. "Mike decided to stop chemotherapy. But he keeps forgetting that. He keeps talking about having to go, and I have to keep telling him that isn't going to happen."

We sat there at Mike's side, talking about past times, trying to keep our own spirits up, as well as Mike's.

I gave Mike that book I brought, and we popped a videotape into his VCR. He was flipping through the book as the videotape was playing.

Within a few minutes, Mike got tired, and we had to leave.

A lot of Mike's illustrations were on the wall: they were mostly figure sketches. I wished I was still doing fanzines: over the years Mike had well surpassed Ken in his drawing ability.

We left, going over our own thoughts. I couldn't help but think that we all would go through what Mike went through eventually. He was just the first.

The funeral came soon after. It was a short, simple service. We had been asked to send in our memories of Mike. I told them the Archon Star Trek story above, adding that "Mike was always there, ready and willing to do anything I asked him."

I wish I could have been one of the pallbearers. I remember that Kerry and Ken, as well as members of Mike's family, had that honor.

And Randy, Mike's partner, genuinely loved Mike. He held several tributes, showcasing Mike's artwork.

But really, all of that doesn't matter: what matters is that Mike was our friend, and he's gone now.