But We Had So Much More To Talk About
Backing up a bit from my last post, Pennie is the other
friend who died this year. We were friends for over 35 years.
We used to meet for dinner or lunch several times a year and spend hours laughing, whining, creating crazy business ideas and solving the world’s problems.
She got married and moved to Colorado more than twenty years ago. We kept in touch and I enjoyed reading about the life adventures she shared with her husband and the new entrepreneurial and artistic ventures she started.
I wanted to see her again and to meet her husband. I kept putting off potential trips to Colorado because there would always be time. She’d always be there, right?
Then last fall she and hubby decided to retire to Florida. A surprise and not a surprise. Ok, another place to visit her.
One day last month I stumbled on a new post on her Facebook page. A photo of Pennie and a cat and the dates 1952-2019. At first quick glance, I thought her cat died. Then I looked at the first number again. Wow. It was SHE who died. Her husband had posted a most loving obituary.
I swear I couldn’t breathe the rest of that afternoon. I couldn’t believe she was gone.
We had so much catching up to do; so much more to talk about. How could she be gone? How could it be that we hadn’t emailed or texted since her birthday in August, hadn’t spoken in over ten years, hadn’t seen each other in over twenty years?
Speechless doesn’t begin to describe what I felt as I finally composed myself enough to send her husband a note to tell him of my response to this news. Condolences wasn’t a big enough word either, but I didn’t have a better one. I told him about my conversations with his wife about life, jobs, relationships (we each had our share of new ones and failed ones).
I told him about a friend of hers who had a lot to do with my getting the job I still have. I pointed out that the last time I saw Pennie in person she was talking a lot about this new guy she was madly in love with: Him.
There would always be a time to get together again, but then again there wasn’t. Life is too damn short.
Two people in my close circle dead within two months of each other. Another one, a cousin, two summers ago, and an old girlfriend two years before that.
Maybe the reality floating through this grief is that we boomers are seniors now. Our eyesight may be diminishing but the vision of our mortality is getting sharper.
That small but significant line from Shawshank Redemption is playing in my head: get busy living or get busy dying.
We used to meet for dinner or lunch several times a year and spend hours laughing, whining, creating crazy business ideas and solving the world’s problems.
She got married and moved to Colorado more than twenty years ago. We kept in touch and I enjoyed reading about the life adventures she shared with her husband and the new entrepreneurial and artistic ventures she started.
I wanted to see her again and to meet her husband. I kept putting off potential trips to Colorado because there would always be time. She’d always be there, right?
Then last fall she and hubby decided to retire to Florida. A surprise and not a surprise. Ok, another place to visit her.
One day last month I stumbled on a new post on her Facebook page. A photo of Pennie and a cat and the dates 1952-2019. At first quick glance, I thought her cat died. Then I looked at the first number again. Wow. It was SHE who died. Her husband had posted a most loving obituary.
I swear I couldn’t breathe the rest of that afternoon. I couldn’t believe she was gone.
We had so much catching up to do; so much more to talk about. How could she be gone? How could it be that we hadn’t emailed or texted since her birthday in August, hadn’t spoken in over ten years, hadn’t seen each other in over twenty years?
Speechless doesn’t begin to describe what I felt as I finally composed myself enough to send her husband a note to tell him of my response to this news. Condolences wasn’t a big enough word either, but I didn’t have a better one. I told him about my conversations with his wife about life, jobs, relationships (we each had our share of new ones and failed ones).
I told him about a friend of hers who had a lot to do with my getting the job I still have. I pointed out that the last time I saw Pennie in person she was talking a lot about this new guy she was madly in love with: Him.
There would always be a time to get together again, but then again there wasn’t. Life is too damn short.
Two people in my close circle dead within two months of each other. Another one, a cousin, two summers ago, and an old girlfriend two years before that.
Maybe the reality floating through this grief is that we boomers are seniors now. Our eyesight may be diminishing but the vision of our mortality is getting sharper.
That small but significant line from Shawshank Redemption is playing in my head: get busy living or get busy dying.
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