Thursday, January 31, 2013

Early Morning Reflections of Friendships Gone By - Part 3

It's hard to realize that you have no one to call, not if your car breaks down, you want to go to a movie, you're sick and need medicine, or just to chat.  That may be hard for some to realize, that there are people who have not a single soul they could call up, not for an emergency or for recreation, but it happens.  In some cases, friends live in other states or countries.  Sometimes there is simply no one.  It is a very sad and lonely feeling to know that is your situation.  As I reflect back on life and friendships come and gone, there are a lot of different reasons for finding myself in the situation I'm in.

As I've written in the last couple of posts, my insecurities started as a young child.  Though I'm actually confident in my abilities, I live in this strange dichotomy where I'm also very insecure at the same time.  I think I'm good, but maybe not good enough.  My friends have covered the gamut in interests and personalities and a lot of them have been very intelligent.  While I'm no dummy and actually have an above average IQ, they're smarter and, perhaps more importantly, they've done more with their lives.  It is one reason why I'll never go to a class reunion, that and the physical equation.

When junior high rolled around, most of my friends from elementary school ended up doing their own thing.  I didn't really see them as much as before.  Junior high for my group meant 7th and 8th grades with high school being years 9-12.  It was in 8th grade when I met a gal who quickly became my best friend of that era.  We met at the water fountain at the back of a school room.  Her name was Beryl, but she was called Babs.  She had long red hair and a great smile.  That's how I remember her -- smiling.

There are many different religious beliefs and even back then I believed in a pre-existence and an after life.  Babs is the only person I've ever met who I really felt like I'd known in the pre-existence.  It wasn't just that we clicked right away, but I truly felt like I knew her already.  It was strange.  I thought about it a lot even as our friendship was taking shape.

We had great fun.  Her mom was British, and I just loved listening to her talk.  She and I got along well, and I truly enjoyed spending hours upon hours with her and Babs at their apartment.  They had a cute little dog, too.  Babs' dad was in the military and stationed in Vietnam.  That was the first time I'd known anyone in that situation and frankly, it was scary.  I didn't know him, but I worried about his safety a lot.

Babs loved horses and the TV show, Alias Smith and Jones.  I loved it, too.  We used to quote dialog to each other.  I still remember a portion of one of our favorite bits, though I haven't watched the episode in quite a while now.  The character of Hannibal Heyes is trying to calm down his partner, Kid Curry, who has been told not to wear his gun in town.  Curry objects and he's insisting to Heyes that he's hungry, is going to go out, and will be wearing his gun.  The more mellow and mild type Heyes threatens something to the extent of “Take another step and I'll flatten ya.”  Curry's retort is “Before breakfast?”  We'd laugh our heads off at that exchange.

In the show, Heyes was played by Pete Duel, a wonderful actor who sadly took his own life during the Christmas holidays.  We were so saddened.  One night at her apartment, we conducted a seance.  It was so cool, especially when we got responses.  Oh geez.  We screamed and laughed.  Was Pete Duel really listening to us?  It's a crazy memory, one that lives on brightly as part of my friendship with Babs.

Unfortunately, when Babs' father returned, he was transferred back east almost immediately.  It was really hard to watch my best friend leave, but we stayed in touch.  We wrote each other all the time and then somewhere along the line we started corresponding via cassette audiotapes.  We acted like DJs practically, including favorite songs and even singing along to them.  In between the songs, we chatted about whatever was going on or how we felt about this and that.  Somewhere in my tape collection, I still have a couple of those tapes.  Babs even came up with our own secret code and sometimes we'd write notes using that code.  I actually have the master code in my papers somewhere.

Eventually, Babs' father retired from the military and the family moved to Texas.  Phone calls, tapes, letters: they all continued through high school and into college. They slowed down from the rapid fire of our younger days, but it was still constant.  As time passed, she graduated from college and went on to get a couple of pretty good jobs.  Like I said, she was smart.

On the other hand, my career never panned out.  My dreams of becoming a teacher just never happened, and I had financial woes that necessitated a change in colleges.  That change turned into a disaster when the new college wouldn't accept all the credits and wanted me to take specific courses that had a bunch of prerequisites that I didn't want to take.  It messed me up royally and ultimately, it ended up adding to my self-esteem issues.  She was doing so well; I wasn't.

I attribute the falling away of our friendship to me.  As I recall, I didn't respond as fast as I had been and I think I let too much time go by.  The truth was that it was one of those bad times where I didn't feel like I had anything to contribute.  At this stage, I don't know who wrote the last letter or made the last phone call, but the time came when there was just no more contact.  We had only seen each other one time after her father's return.  They were on a trip and made a point to drop by.  We had a fun night together.

All of this was before the Internet, but once I had a computer, at some point I did look her up.  At least, I think it was her.  I did write, but never had a response.  I can't say she got it because it was only a guess as to whether or not the person I found was actually her.

Again, I take the blame.  I know I slowed down and I think it was probably me who never wrote again.  It's so hard being in a bad place emotionally.  I just believed she was happier and doing so much better professionally that I stopped.  That's how I think it was.  That said, of all my friends from my past, the one whose picture remains on my shelf is Babs.  It's one she had taken at her office from one of her jobs.  It's just so her and brings back those fun times.  She was a great best friend.  I wish I'd been up to the task.

In truth, I have the same problem today.  I don't feel like I do anything interesting and just can't compare to those I care about.  Their lives seem so much more fulfilling.  I can't live up to them, not to Todd, not to Peggy, and not to Babs.  Certainly, with my circumstances today, I pale alongside most anyone I know, online and offline.

Far from the days when I could rely on those three and others, the world today is more quiet for me, but I will always cherish that year that Babs was here and we had so much fun together.  I'll relish forever the letters and tapes, not to mention the crazy phone calls, including those times when I asked to speak to her mom just so I could hear her accent.

As I type this now, I also think we did have one more odd connection, decades after our last communication.  I can't swear to it because too much time has passed, but I think her dad went to work for a major department store and now that I think about, I believe it's the same one I ended up working for many years later.  I hadn't thought about that until writing this text, but I think I'm right.  Just a funny tidbit, if the recollection is correct.

Babs, if you're out there, my apologies for dropping the ball.  I have all the confidence in the world that you're leading a happy and successful life, and I certainly hope you're still riding horses and maybe own one yourself.  Take care!


Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Early Morning Reflections of Friendships Gone By - Part 2

Due to things going on in my life, I found myself unable to sleep and reflecting back on old friendships.  Perhaps for some it would be best to use the term acquaintances.  Actually, my mind has gone all over the place, jumping back and forth in time from childhood and college years to today when most of my time is spent enjoying a British singer versus spending any time with people in the present.  The truth is that people aren't always around in your physical space.  In fact, my friends are spread out so it gets pretty lonely, and I suppose the truth is that right now there is just no one to talk to; hence, my openness here in a blog seldom read and most certainly not by anyone I actually know from my past.

In thinking back upon what was yesterday, my mind wanders to elementary school.  In my mom's day, that was a small class, one that kept in touch to their dying days -- literally.  They corresponded, phoned, and had yearly class reunions that most went to at least every few years.  In good times and bad, they were friends through the decades.  In my day, the class was much larger and the truth is that I probably wouldn't know any of my classmates if I saw them on the street today.  Still, I remember so many of them for various reasons.

Pat (as in Patrick, not Patricia) was our political wannabee.  He was always class something or another.  He actually ended up being the class president in high school.  I liked him and we had a good rapport.  A bit like Todd, who I wrote about in my previous post, the girls thought there was more there on my part.  Wrong again.  I just don't have problems being pals with the boys as much as with the girls.  I couldn't tell you a thing about him now except that he always wanted to be the leader, and I think his best friend was Russell, who was usually in the other class (there tended to be two classes in whatever level we were at as we ventured up from kindergarten through the sixth grade) and lived across the street from the school.

Trina is a gal I remember from the very early grades, though I really couldn't tell you a thing about her except that she was blonde and I remember playing at her house.  In fact, even though my brain recalls nearly nothing about her, I actually think about her every time I go by that house which is quite frequently.

My first experience with a classmate dying was with Bobby.  I recall that walking to school one day, a friend asked if I'd heard about Bobby.  I hadn't and she didn't tell me anything at all.  At school, we had just enough desks for each kid.  Everyone was there that day, except for Bobby.  The teacher told us that he had died.  Apparently, his father fell asleep at the wheel.  It was so eerie, seeing all those desks with kids sitting at them and then that one empty one.  There weren't counselors in the day to help kids deal with things like this.  The teacher said what was needed, and we moved on.  Sometime later a tree was planted and dedicated to Bobby.  The school is part of a park now.  I think the tree is still there with the plague, but whether it is or not, I still think about Bobby when I pass by.

Another gal, Liz, was my second experience with childhood death, though she didn't pass on back then.  As often happens, when you move up in grade to another school, you start to lose touch with those you'd known.  I don't really recall seeing Liz in junior high, but she was in my English class during our freshmen year of high school.  I remember being surprised at how she'd changed, personality-wise.  I had always liked her, but that year she was part of a group that really took advantage of the teacher.  It was comical in a cruel sense.  This group of students were always rattling this woman, claiming she hadn't given us homework or done this or that when I knew she had.  I truly was surprised by Liz being a part of that, and she was, quite actively, but maybe she had a reason.  As it turns out, she had leukemia and died.  At one point, early the next year, I found a pass of hers at school.  I have no clue why it was there so long after her passing or why I was the one to find it, but I think somewhere in my mounds of junk from yesteryear, I still have it.  I couldn't throw it away.  We weren't really friends, but I knew her.  She's part of that past that is hard to forget in spite of how long ago it was.

There was sadly another tragedy born of elementary school, and this one I know I will never forget.  There was one boy, Tony, who was part of our class early on.  Then his family moved to Thailand for a time, but he came back.  Another boy, Ed, I remember as being a pain in the butt.  Boys were boys, but whereas Pat, for example, had a bit more decorum in his youth, some of the other boys were just the usual brats who picked on girls.  I was picked on a lot.  I'll be kind and use the word chubby, but it resulted in my having a hard time as a youngster.  Ed was part of the teasing group.  Nico and others were part of that, too.  I suppose it was an early version of bullying, but I don't know that I'd ever use that word.  It was just kids being their cruelest.  At any rate, Ed and Tony were friends and stayed friends as I understand it.

Fast forward to high school.  I was always in the advanced English class and in one of these was another boy named Jeff.  I liked him, too.  He was nice and cordial.  I really didn't know him much outside of class, but we talked just the tiniest bit and had a good time in class.  Ed and Tony were here and there, doing their thing.  Another kid named Tim was our age and in the mix.  Then there was a new student, Steve, who I knew through the school newspaper.  If memory serves, the paper did a story on Steve as a new kid on campus.  There are two other students part of this story, but I didn't know them because they went to a Catholic school.

Well, one day I was outside in my backyard and I heard the biggest, ugliest noise.  It was horrid.  I knew.   I just knew.  I'm a few blocks away from what you would call a main street.  Four lanes of traffic, two going each direction, with a 40mph speed limit.  There had been an accident.  I was certain of it.  Part of me wanted to get in the car and go check it out, but I didn't.  I heard the sirens, lots of them.  I knew.  I just knew.

That night, I refused to watch the news.  I didn't want to know yet.  Perhaps I needed prep time.  The next morning, I went outside and picked up the morning newspaper.  Back then, newspapers reigned supreme, and we had a thriving morning and evening paper.  I took it inside and stared at it, still folded.  I knew.  I just knew that when I opened it up, I was going to see faces, faces I knew.  I was right, and I did.

Ed and Steve, idiots that they were, were drag racing down that street.  At the same time, Tony, Jeff, Tim, and the two Catholic brothers were in a stationwagon heading for a local park.  Ed's car hit them at a ridiculously high rate of speed.  Ed and Steve were fine.  They went on to live their lives, though I don't know what has become of them.  I heard that Ed's girlfriend at the time didn't want to have anything to do with him after the crash, but I don't know if that was fact or fiction.  What I do know is that only Tim survived of the boys in the stationwagon. Ed's and Steve's actions had resulted in the death of four others, including Tony.  I remember the memorial service that had people standing outside because it was so full.  The priest told us that it was easy to hate and hard to forgive.  Boy was he right.  I don't think I've ever forgiven Ed and Steve for being so irresponsible.  At the same time, Ed has to live with knowing he killed one of his best friends, and I don't know how you live with something like that.

I think about that crash and those boys often because I live so close to where it happened.  For a long time, I couldn't drive over the exact spot.  It just hurt and it took what feels like forever for the skid marks to go away.  Signs of the crash remained for a very long time, too.  It's not that I was really close to any of them, but I knew them, and I'd grown up with a couple of them.  Hopefully, Ed and Steve got their acts together and have done things to, well, they can't make up for it, but maybe to show they understand the preciousness of life now.

Bobby, Liz, and Tony: gone but not forgotten.

Then there was Peggy.  She was my best friend during those elementary school years.  I don't really know why except that we lived on the same block.  We did play and do things all the time, but she was much more intellectual than I ever was.  I used to climb the tree in front of her house, which was probably the only tree I ever climbed in my life and it was a challenge for me even then.  She loved to read.  Her family would go to the library every week and bring home boxes of books.  In class one time she had to be called several times to the reading circle because she was so involved in a book she was reading at her desk.  It was pretty funny.  We went to movies a lot together and also to the state fair every year.  In fact, one of the best days happened the year that we went to see a Doris Day film called Where Were You When the Lights Went Out.  That night we went to the fair and, yep, the lights went out and the ride we were on powered down.  We had the best time just screaming the name of that movie in the dark, and when the ride kicked on again, we had a super long ride to make up for the downtime.

Peggy's family owned a huge trailer, one of those big silver things that set in their driveway and blocked the view up and down the street.  Some folks on the block didn't like that.  I didn't care.  They would travel a lot during the summers and such, and Peggy would always write me.  I think I still have a letter she wrote when they were in Hershey, Pennsylvania one year.

It was a great time, having Peggy for a best friend back then, but we grew up.  I don't recall seeing her much in junior high, but we had a French class together in high school.  One of my big thrills was getting a better grade than she did on a test.  I laughed, but it was just one of those fun moments because she really was smarter.  She graduated a year early, went on to college, and got married from what I heard.  I only saw her one more time when she came home.  Eventually, her parents died.  Her sister lived in the house for a while and then sold it, but the house remains “Peggy's” to me.  I guess you could say that my friendship with Peggy was really my first one to be lost.  It was a childhood thing, doomed by age and interests in different areas.  Still, I can't help but wonder what she's up to, if she still married, if she had kids, and what she ended up doing as a career. I'm pretty sure it's been varied.  As I said, she was smart.

There were other kids in our class, of course.  Mike was a Jehovah Witness and never could participate in parties, except for the last one when we actually asked his parents to let him be a part of it.  They agreed, and it was fun that he was finally able to be present and enjoy one of the events.  Janice was Jewish, so we did have a class with some variables in it.  I don't think we talked about either much, and I certainly didn't think about it.  Nowadays it just makes for funny tidbits that remain in my brain.  Tierney was another one who I remember more fondly for when we were older and I used to bump into her at the grocery store.  She'd changed and for the better.  If I remember right it was the Campfire Girls or Bluebirds that Susan was involved with and that I did for a very short period of time.  Her mom was a leader, I think.  I have a picture in a frame made of popsicle sticks around here somewhere.  There was Stacey, too, who I ended up having a bit of contact with after the age of the Internet, but I don't pay for website usage so have no clue what happened to her now, either.  Other names float across my mind, curiosity present for what became of them and even how they look back upon their time in elementary school.

What's the point of all of this?  Frankly, I have no idea.  I saw some of these kids and others from our class in high school, but we all ran in different circles.  I admit to being the most curious about Pat and if he ever managed to be elected to a political office or what he did in life as well as Peggy.  She's the lost one, the first to disappear from my life, though certainly not the last.  I could call Peggy to chat, to play, to go to the movies, or do whatever it was we did back then, and she called me for the same thing.  We were back and forth at each other's homes frequently.  I miss that, having someone to call and do things with.  It's a luxury that many people take for granted.

Whether it's a childhood friendship as existed with Peggy or a young adult thing such as that with Todd, relationships should be nurtured or they dry up.  Keeping a friendship is hard work.  I used to work at them a lot, but stuff happened that disillusioned me.  I actually have become jaded quite a bit, and that was due to my own stupidity later on in life, after the addition of a computer.  It's a story I probably won't share and it may have been the most hurtful of all.  In the end, I wish some things had been different when I was a kid.  My insecurities increased with each age for all kinds of reasons.  It didn't help that I was constantly teased. If I could change something, that would probably be it.  Even so, we are who we are.  It just would have been nice to still be friends with some of those kids from way back when instead of having nothing but a vague image of who they were.

To my classmates of those innocent and early days of life, hello, and I hope all is well.  I hope we have all learned to make better choices than some of those made back then and that our awareness and tolerance is broader and stronger than some of what I experienced.  To Peggy, while I'm certain our interests and paths are and have been extremely different, it was much fun having a best friend to share life with, so thank you.


Early Morning Reflections of Friendships Gone By

Sometimes when you are lonely, your mind starts to reflect on the past, on the friendships made, lost, and displaced.  Tonight there is a lot on my mind and as has happened in the past, I've begun thinking about people in the past, those who have come and gone but who live on in some manner in my mind.  The good thing about this little blog is that no one really knows it's here or cares about it.  It's like my own little place on the web.  I guess it's like talking to a stranger in that it's easier than talking to people you know sometimes, or maybe it's talking to a blank canvas when there is no one else to listen.  I don't know, but here I am, me and my thoughts.

My current state of mind over this began with thinking about a singer I adore and his other fans.  That's a whole story in itself, but that led to me thinking about those who have an aura around them that makes folks want to be around them.  I believe this singer has that quality, so that's where that part of my mindset began this evening.  Then I started remembering a few people in my past who had that light surrounding them, the one said they were special for one reason or another and which brought others to them whether or not they beckoned.

My best example of that is probably Todd, a very popular boy from high school.  He really was super popular and sought after.  He had it all: good looks, great personality, charm, talent, intelligence, good manners, charity, belief in God.  He just was “it” back then.  By a fluke of working with him in student government, I ended up becoming good friends with him.  One of the things I learned back then is that being popular doesn't always mean you have close friends.  He never had to make a phone call.  That boy's phone rang off the hook, and yet his circle of people he considered close was not that large.  Our relationship was so much fun and quite special to me.  It had its turbulent moments, but we made it through for quite a while, even into college.  As often happens, though, as you grow up, you go in different directions.  He got married, started a family, and ended up residing in another state.

I do have to say that I recall being over the moon when he called up out of the blue one day.  This was a long time ago now, mid-eighties I believe.  We had a few lovely conversations, but that was that.  A few years ago for kicks, I looked him up in the university directory where I knew he was still employed, and I sent him an email.  He never replied back.  That was a bit of a disappointment, but life moves on, and I don't blame him for not responding.

The funny thing about adolescence is that there is so much to be learned and life is not always fair about how it's done.  I'd change a lot if I could do it over again.  The thing is not all of it was in my control.  Being Mr. Popular, most of my girlfriends were romantically interested in Todd.  I wasn't.  I only wanted his friendship.  Youth being what it is, most people couldn't accept that.  Everyone wanted it to be more than it was and because, even “just” as a friend, I was the admittedly high maintenance type, things were often misconstrued.  The only thing I was “in love” with was having such a good friend.

However, when you are surrounded by girls who wanted to be “in love” with Todd, things easily get explosive.  I remember a “good” friend who somehow became jealous of my friendship with Todd.  She called me one day and apologized.  She'd apparently been saying some very rude things about me behind my back.  She felt guilty in the end and had to come clean about it.  We made it peacefully through high school, but I have no clue what became of her after that.

Even Todd's older brother had issues with me.  I was probably too clingy.  I loved Todd as a friend and every minute was magical to me, but Bry didn't quite get it, either.  He was the intellectual type and a lot of fun to be around, too.  I actually adored him, but he didn't really think Todd should be friends with me.

There was one time when Todd and I had a disagreement over something.  Okay, I guess it was an argument.  Don't ask me what started it.  My brain doesn't retain a lot of the specifics on unpleasantness.  As it ended up, I believe it resulted in me saying I wouldn't call him again.  It would be up to him to call me.  I think Bry was part of that and it ultimately had that feeling of “talk when spoken to but not before.”.  I didn't contact Todd, but I saw him a time or two, at church, I think it was.  I was very formal.  It was hard, but I'd made a promise.  He finally called me after a week or so, although Bry hadn't wanted him to do so.  Fortunately, Todd cared a bit more about our friendship than his brother did.  We got through it.

High school ended.  He went on a mission, and surprise, he actually wrote me letters.  Writing letters wasn't really his thing, so that correspondence was always a treasure.  You know, I still have them, right where I kept them back then, in with my scriptures.  Crazy, but true.  Then came college, and we had more good times.  We went to the same college for a while and even lived at the same off-campus apartment complex.  I helped him a lot with his English papers.  I can still remember the name of one of his professors who insisted on essays being turned in on time.  Todd told me how this instructor told his students that even if you are in a car accident, hold up that English assignment and tell someone to “Get this to Thayer!”  Now that I think about it, I think I even typed one or two of those papers.  Hey, part of that “A” belongs to me!  :}

Those were the days.  We had such great talks.  Todd was a talker, and so was I.  Put us together and that equaled some very long conversations.  I miss him.  The truth is I miss him a lot, even to this day.  The odd thing about me is that I am a strange mix of confidence and insecurity.  It makes no sense, but I know I have more ability than many believe, and yet I am extremely insecure.  Perhaps it comes from my perceptions of both my mother and my sister.  They were perfectionists and a hard act to live up to.  In fact, I couldn't, and maybe that was my downfall as I grew up, never being as good as either of them.  I do know that my insecurities began as a very little girl and I've never overcome them.  It led to my high maintenance profile in friendships, which ultimately has led to the downfall of many of them, possibly including the one with Todd.

Though in the end, I think it was just moving on in different directions, I still wonder if all my over-exuberance in being Todd's friend and the inbred insecurity in my soul just caused it all to go south.  I don't know.  Maybe it just was that married folks and single folks don't compute, especially within our church and especially when separated in distance.  The last time we spoke, he was married with children and I was still me, on my own and living a totally different reality.  I remember getting a card from him saying maybe he and his family would stop by that year for Christmas because they were going to be here visiting his family, but they didn't come by and that was probably the very last communication I had with him.

I heard there was a situation with one of his kids that was quite sad, but I never heard the details.  By then I'd lost all contact with his family, though I had been super close with his mother for many years, and the information had come through my dentist.  In my mind, I'm sure Todd has been a great husband and a terrific dad.  I can't imagine him being anything different.  I see him as a bishop of his ward and probably as popular and sought after today as he was in youth.  I'm sure he's sung many times.  He has a beautiful voice and I loved it whenever he pulled out his guitar and sang a bit.  He made me a tape once that was a special gift.  I could listen to him sing all day.  His brother was musical and had a band.  They were a hoot.  The two of them sang together at a swim party I had once.  Somewhere in my hundreds of cassette tapes is one of those brothers singing that night.  It was really fun.

To be honest, back in high school, Todd's mom was the mom I'd always wanted.  Nothing against my own mother who loved me to pieces, but Kitty was different.  She was a teacher, which I'd always wanted to be, and she just took everyone in and accepted them for who they were.  I actually got to know her before Todd and I became good friends.  In fact, I remember the first time I went to Todd's house.  There was some paper he needed to have relating to an event at the high school and so, with a friend in tow, we went to his house.  His mother answered the door and I asked if Todd was home.  “No, but come on in.”  Huh?  Hey, where I live, people didn't do that.

We did go in and we were there for something like three hours.  It was insane.  Bry and a friend of his came in to say “hi” and talk.  I mean it was surreal.  I'd never known a family to do that.  Kitty made us lemonade and to this day, whenever I have lemonade, I think of Kitty and her amazing warmth and friendship.  I loved her.  She treated me like one of the family, and I felt so special, but that's how she treated everyone.  She loved life and people and she embraced anyone within her reach.  I don't know what's happened to her, if she's still living or is now with God, but even two days ago, I happened to pass by the street where the family lived and thought about her.

Todd's father was about as opposite from Kitty as you could get.  He was a gruff one, and he could be scary.  I vividly, repeat vividly, recall the first time I met him, too.  It wasn't because of his pleasant personality that it stands out but it was because he was wearing a gun.  Yikes!  Guns are foreign to me and I'd never been close to a gun-totin' man before.  I have a hunch my eyes got as wide as dollars because Kitty quickly explained that he was on the road a lot and always took a gun for protection.  Okie dokie.  Well, the truth was, he loved guns.  He was one of those “you'll have to kill me to get my guns” type, a real NRA advocate.  I believe he had his own private little arsenal in that home, but the other truth was that he was really a teddy bear.  You just had to get to know him and understand why he was the way he was.  His upbringing wasn't the kindest and when you learned his story, he was easier to understand.  I grew to love him, too.  He stopped being scary very early on.  He died after I'd lost contact with the family, but I remember reading about it.  My prayer then and now is that he found peace with God that he hadn't had on this earth.

So, in these wee morning hours when I write this first reflective entry, I am thinking of Todd and our wayward friendship.  While I wonder about his family, both the one he grew up with and the one he's made with his wife, it is Todd himself that I wonder about the most.  There are so many little things that touched my heart and echo in my mind, things that continue to make him special to me.  I lament how my insecurities and subsequent clingy and high maintenance qualities affected our relationship, though I don't know if changing it would have made a difference in whether or not we'd still be in touch.  I also wish other people could have just left us alone to be friends and not put that romantic thing into play.  It didn't affect me, but I know it was a factor with him.  He was often “worried” I cared about him more than he wanted me to, and I believe that was more from the influences of others who said things to him.  At any rate, with the decades that have passed, I wonder if I'm even a footnote in his memory.  I rather doubt that I am, simply because I am confident he is living a life that is full and blessed.  He has a strong faith and a good heart.  I wish I could match what he has in that regard, but I know I don't, far from it, in fact.

Somewhere, maybe still at that university, there is a man named Todd who I still love, treasure, and have happy memories of from our past.  I miss him, his soft-spoken voice, how he was late for almost everything, the sound of him singing, those long talks, and the hugs.  I hadn't really known hugs until I met Todd and his family.  It was a strange thing to me, to hug a friend.  We didn't do it a lot, but I remember the goodness I felt when we did.  I could use a hug right now.  Maybe that's part of why I'm thinking about Todd and his family, because when he hugged me, it was a good hug, one you could feel, or maybe I'm just beating myself up over a misplaced friendship that was somehow squandered in the distant past.  I don't know, but I can say that this won't be the last time I think about him.  He is just too much a part of my heart to ever forget completely.

Wherever you are, I love you, Todd ... egads, as a friend. 


 
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