Just getting some sadness off my chest.
I first saw you in a class I had in high school. Eleventh, maybe tenth grade. You must have transferred out as you were only there for a day or two. We didn’t talk, but I noticed you. Your countenance left a mark on my soul. I would later learn that you were beautiful to the core, smart, tenacious, strong, and loving.
Not long after you ended up dating my best friend. Our little gang of outcasts all went to prom together. Some time before summer after graduation all hell broke loose. Thankfully you moved away from that hell you had endured since you were god knows how young and lived with your father and stepmother now.
College happened, you were in one college town, my best friend in another, and I in a third. High school romances ended. Two years later I was in your town. We started having lunch together as friends. Relationships came and went and it finally happened. We were an item.
Your family took me in as their own. We lived together in the basement of your parents house. The three of us had the downstairs, you, your wee little daughter that I’d see as my own, and myself. I was a part of your family. Two of your brothers would launch and assault on me before I was awake, often your little girl would join in, occasionally a good friend of your brothers would too. These were fun antics even though I needed to sleep. They were quite young and small enough I could chuck them off the bed as the assaults continued. All the while giggling and bouncing around the room.
Your dad and I rebuilt the engine in his old Volvo wagon. I adored him back then. Family dinners included me. Eventually we got our own place, the three of us. Life happened and we parted company on bad terms but I never stopped loving you. A friendship was salvaged eventually but the relationship was done. You saw to it that your daughter still had a relationship with me. I’d take her out to have pizza, she’d swim in the pool outside my apartment. I ran with your younger brothers who were now of age. I did the math the other night. It’s hard to believe it was only three years, our run.
Work and life had me relocated some 600 miles away. Our friendship faded a bit but we stayed in contact. We both married. You had two more lovely daughters. They were quite young when I last laid eyes upon them.
Occasional phone calls, Christmas cards, I’d stop in for a visit on my way to see my family. That ceased to happen when my parents got old and my occasional trips had an urgency to be devoted to my aging and failing parents. COVID came and went but seemed to really sever ties. The occasional calls became less frequent. Time slipped away.
About two or three weeks ago your oldest reached out to me. I was overjoyed to hear from her, she still held a daughter’s place in my heart. I had no idea it was possible to be thrilled and crushed almost simultaneously. You were in hospice care, near death. Three or four days later you were gone. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to you. Your daughter did relay an I love you and a kiss on the forehead. But we never spoke. You were too weak. Gone way before your work was done.
I drove to your daughter’s house, arriving the evening before your memorial service. The little girl I’d doted over some ages ago is now a grown woman with a lovely life partner. Your other two daughters, virtual strangers to me, have their own partners now. We sat up and talked until we were all beyond tired. Tears and laughter, remembering good times, old things like the bike I’d found at a yard sale and made new for your daughter one Christmas. How your ex made her leave it behind on a move. Newer things, like your daughter’s first time watching you as a public defender in court. She bragged on your winning streaks. Your tenacity and how DAs hated going up against you. Maternal strength you developed as a big sister in a rough neighborhood with a child at the ripe old age of 15 made you one hell of a fighter. You always inspired me with the fact that you survived the hell that was your childhood.
I learned that the man you married was a regular POS and wore you down. The last 4 years of your life were a hell you did not deserve. I believe he wrecked you so bad your body couldn’t stave off the cancer that ultimately took you from your family. I can’t believe I thought of him as a friend at one time. He’s earned his position. Your daughters all despise him and will have nothing to do with him. The rest of your family will have nothing to do with him. Your brothers once called him a friend. It’s fitting that he’s going to spend his days unemployed, playing video games, and smoking weed. Living as a parasite on his nephew’s dime.
It was a bitter sweet visit. I reconnected with your brothers and their best friend. Your oldest and I have rekindled that father/daughter relationship. I sat with your father. We had a laugh or two, but I felt heavy inside that he had to live to see you die, that ain’t the way it’s supposed to go. His wife has dementia and I’ve no idea if she even knew who I was. Another burden your dad has to shoulder. He’s such a good man. She’s also a wonderful person. So unfair.
We’ve been planning a repeat of a trip I took with your brothers and some of their friends the summer after I graduated vet school. It’ll be a bit more sedate than it was back then, summer of 1986. Your daughter and her lovely partner will join us. Your ex, however, will not be welcome this time.
Good Bye old friend. You’ll live on in the hearts of many. I still can’t believe it’s true.