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Everyone deserves a written send off.

I’m currently working on possibly moving my blog to a new domain since my stalker has created fake accounts on this one to get notifications of when I post.  It’s ridiculous I have to do that, but such is life. In the meantime, I’m still going to post here, because frankly, this is my blog, and I’m not bowing down to ridiculousness. I’m even questioning moving it, because I simply shouldn’t have to.  All of that being said, I began this blog to be an outlet for me, to express my thoughts.  Yesterday’s event warranted this post, so I’m posting it.

Yesterday was a tough day, for reasons I was not expecting.  I found out an old friend of mine passed away.  She was only 49.  When you become an adult and your parents and friends start dying, it’s a surreal feeling.  Everyone still feels way too young to die, and honestly, 49 is.

She was one of my close friends for a while.  She could make me laugh until I rolled around on the floor.  We shared a similar, dark, savage humor, and could find the laughter in just about any situation.  She was my friend during some hard times, and she certainly helped get me through it.  I also got her through some devastating times.

After a while, she met a new guy, while still married to the old one, and the new guy came with baggage.  Lots and lots of it, actually.  He was bad news from everything I could see, and I did my best to warn her.  I warned her, I begged her, to stay away from him and all the bad he was bringing along.  You know how it goes though, some girls love those bad boys and their big promises.  Before I knew it, her behavior became erratic.  She became paranoid, angry, and was acting like a totally different person.  I knew she was on drugs, and it was doing some major damage to who she was.  The last “conversation” I had with her was filled with paranoia and anger.  None of it made any sense.

The fact is, I have kids, and I just can’t have that sort of stuff around them.  I’m also grown, busy, and tired and I can’t have it around me either.  These were hardcore drugs.  I also saw her doing some other things that seemed questionable.  I had to bail.

I’ve felt badly over the years that I bailed.  The fact is though, when someone is on heavy drugs, they just aren’t the same person.  No matter what I did, I never would have been able to rescue her.  It had to be her that made her choices to get better.  Nevertheless, I felt sad.  I missed our friendship. I missed the laughter, her good heart, and I wondered why it all ended he way it did.

She ended up running away with the bad boy, I think they may have even gotten married.  Last I heard, he had terminal cancer.  I have no idea if he is even still alive, to be honest. It all just seemed so sad.  Yesterday, I saw she had passed away.  The blurb is short, she was born here on this date, she died in her residence on this date.  That made me even sadder. It seemed there was nobody to properly eulogize her life.  She had been reduced to a blurb.  I sat at my computer and cried. Here was a larger than life soul and all that was there was a 2 or 3 sentence blurb about her birth and death, but the middle, where all the important stuff really was, was missing.  I tried to find a proper obituary, but found nothing.

Everyone deserves a written send off.

I am sad for the end of her life.  I am sad for the end of our friendship.  I know I had to end the friendship, but it doesn’t always make it easier to know she’ll never have a chance to get back to the her that she once was.  It feels like the death of a chance.  I hope she found happiness with her bad boy, even if it came with a lot of baggage, chaos, illness and sadness.

I can surmise how she died, likely one of two ways.  I’ll likely never know for sure, but it doesn’t really matter.  It is what it is, and it’s sad. I’m sad. The past two weeks have been a test of all my emotions, and this one brought the sadness.



Goodbye friend

I woke up today, and immediately felt as though I wanted to burrow beneath the covers. It was wet and dreary out, the type of day which makes you want to seek out coziness. I eventually heaved myself out of bed, padded into the bathroom, and lamented the fact I had to go to work. It’s been a rough few weeks at the office, and spending the day with my husband and kids looked far more promising. I suddenly thought to myself that I need to get inspired for the day. “I’m awake, alive, and it’s a new day to make mine” I thought. I pondered that statement for a moment, Sure, I have a cold, I feel under the weather, but I am alive, and I have a chance to live another day. That in and of itself is a gift. Feeling more positive, I headed into the office, where I realized that one of my friends didn’t have the same opportunity that I did.

I saw the Facebook post that my friend had passed, I paused, shocked,and went to his page. Post after post of condolences and confirmations that it was true. I burst into tears, and left the office.
The rest of the day was a blur, mainly because I spent much of it crying, I cried for the loss of my old friend. I cried, as a mother myself, for the pain his parents and family must be feeling. I cried for the guilt of not picking up the phone more, I cried for assuming there would be another cup of coffee and a chat about his travels. I cried for the fact that while his death was caused by a fluke accident caused by a faulty heater, that I realized I am entering a stage of life where this will happen again, and more frequently. His was my first friend to have passed away.

He and I met in high school. We went to different schools, but ran in the same circles, we became friends, and spent many hours chatting about our hopes and dreams for life. He wanted to retire young, certainly by 40 he said. I moved to Virginia but we spoke on the phone a lot. He was an authentic person. Very “what you see is what you get”. I remember promising him I would see him graduate, and I drove 300 miles and crashed his graduation ceremony to cheer him on.

College came, and he went across the country. College can be tough. We both went through a depressed stage, and each helped the other one through it. I remember getting a call in the middle of the night, and he was in a bad way. Probable more depressed than I had ever seen him. I was worried enough that I got on a flight the next day and flew cross country to help him out. We both made it through the tough times by having each other’s backs and laughter. We used to exchange stories about the crazy people we dated. Both of us found a couple of nutjobs to date over the years and we’d laugh hysterically at each other’s plights.

Over the years, life took over and we weren’t always in touch regularly. He got married, I was busy working, dating, and partying more than I probably should have. He started drinking a lot, and eventually got sober. He got divorced. I got married and had a baby. He became very religious, while I had become less so. He was no longer interested in money so much, he just wanted to live and make a difference somehow. We were different, changed from our life experiences, but when we spoke again, we quickly caught up and it was like little time had passed, I always think a true measure of friendship is that while you may not see each other or speak regularly, as soon as you do, it’s a quick catching up and it’s like no time has passed. True friends don’t make you question their friendship. It just IS.

It’s been several years since we saw each other, and again, life had taken over. Marriage, kids and work had kept me busy. He had moved from state to state. I didn’t have a current phone number, but I knew he was on Facebook sometimes, albeit rarely. I thought just a week or so ago that I should message him to say hi, and check in. I meant to. I. Intended to. But like all good intentions, it stayed an intention. Today, I am regretful. They often say that it’s not what you do that you regret, but what you don’t do. I regret not making the time to say hi to my old friend. To catch up, even if briefly, and to let him know that, like all good friends, he had passed through my mind. Now, he is gone, and I am left feeling sad for a life taken way too soon. I am sad that I will have missed hearing about his recent adventures.

I remember in college he had called me in the middle of the night, sometimes drunk after a frat party. He would tell me, in that unguarded way that drunk people do, that I was such a good friend to him, and that I had always been there for him. I hope I was a good friend. I think I was. I hope that he knew that I was his friend right up until the end, even if life had kept us busy and we hadn’t spoken. Good bye old friend. Thank you for all of the friendship, memories, and laughs.