I lose a friend – Marc Klauser dies

Marc Klauser, our Welsh salesman, requested a personal meeting. It was a good time. The BEA fair in Bern was coming up, and I was there for a few days. We arranged that Marc would come to support us, and we would have our talk after the fair closed. The day went normally. As usual, Marc took care of the French contacts and I of the German ones. In the evening, he told me that he had been very tired since his move in the winter and had therefore had a thorough check-up. The diagnosis: cancer. It was operable, but he would have to undergo further treatment and would therefore no longer be able to give his full commitment. I was speechless. Did he want to quit?
No, by no means. He enjoys his work very much. He loves talking to his clients and customers and has the company close to his heart. Furthermore, he wants to continue working as long as he can. We agreed that if necessary he should call in his neighbour Bernard Bussard, who was already doing service work for us. Bernard was a veteran all-rounder. He was an excellent technician and problem solver, and also able to assist Marc in sales. We agreed to stay in touch and decide on a situational basis how to proceed.
A short time later, the French Post asked us, they would like to have a contact with the Swiss Post, and they wanted to see our DXP in action. I asked Marc, and he was happy to organize this event. He sat down with the postmen in Lutry who already had some DXP in use, organized in his usual perfection the demonstration, afterwards a lunch together and finally also an informal exchange with representatives of the management of Swiss Post. All that was left for me to do was to drive to Lutry with my bus and some prototypes showing the latest state of development and to show some technical details of the vehicles. The event was a great success and the people from Swiss Post and French Post were very pleased. On the way home, Marc showed me his new cottage - right on Lake Neuchâtel. He took off his tie and remarked: he would have worn this tie at our first interview and now at this event as well. It was still the same tie, but he had never worn it again in the meantime. The evening was very relaxed. Mark was proud of his new little empire. But he was also tired, and so I said my unusual goodbyes before dinner.
The following time was marked by ups and downs. After his major operation, which had gone well, he called me: He now needed a CLASSIC DX himself. I didn't have to tell him the arguments, he already knew them. The only thing that might be worth a discount for him as a co-worker is the price? And whether the sale would then also count for his sales statistics? After all, everything had to be right. Marc remained a thoroughbred salesman, and he was very precise, almost pedantic.
From then on, he limited himself to talking to customers and prospective customers on the phone, while his neighbour Bernard took care of all the demonstrations and deliveries.
The treatment worked well, he also survived another operation. He felt hopeful about driving himself to his clients again and enjoying his house and newly acquired motorboat in his spare time. At the beginning of August, he seemed very euphoric: he had another check-up next Thursday. There he would find out when he could return to full duty. He was weak and it would take some time. Immediately after the diagnosis, he called. The cancer had returned. It would take another operation, but it was no longer worth it. He would only live for a few weeks at most and would probably not be able to leave the hospital. I was speechless at this turn of events. Only a few days ago, we both believed he would get better. Maya and I actually wanted to go on holiday at the weekend, but Marc said he couldn't say how much longer he would be able to do all the administrative work. So we agreed that I would visit him in the hospital together with Maya on the coming Sunday to take over all his pending tasks. When we arrived at the hospital, Marc's whole family was there. We were also expected. We told them about our holiday plans and Marc gave us tips on what to visit on our trip. In particular, he recommended Péroauges, a beautiful medieval village just outside Lyon.
The handover was coming up and Marc wanted to do it with just me and Maya. His family had to leave the room. He dutifully stayed until the end. We went through all the prospects and all the clients, and I wrote myself a long list of pending things to do. It took the entire afternoon. When we were done, I asked him what he expected now? He spoke of a wall that was coming inexorably towards him. Only a miracle could save him now. We talked again about our last joint event with the French Post. It really was the last event at which he wore his tie. We both laughed. Maya and I said a tearful goodbye to Marc and set off for Pérouges. This place was magical and since then we always stay there when we go to France.
The news of Marc's death reached us the following Wednesday. He had been responsive for the last time on Sunday. In the next church, we lit a candle for Marc. Thank you for everything we were allowed to experience together.

I learned from it:

• Sometimes there are no words.
• Death is finite. There is no going back.
• Grief and joy are very close to each other.