Usually I welcome empty rooms and time stretching ahead of me without obligations that translates into hours left for writing or knitting or simply sitting still and thinking. But today I’ve had news of the death of two friends from long ago and for some reason, I’m not able to simply tuck this information away and move through the day again.
I’ve seen neither of these people in several years. One moved on to fame and fortune and would probably not have remembered me now. The other was a former boss I was once glad to have moved on from, but also happy that she once gave me a chance to prove what I could do. Neither were relatives or lovers. Both were more than passing acquaintances, less than best friends. Still, I am mourning them today, unexpectedly.
I am remembering quick smiles, guitar licks, cigarette smoke, crazy drives on winding country roads, chocolate milk shakes, auditors, changing ribbons in calculators, dances at St. Mary’s and PTO meetings. And two folks who made their marks on the world in their own way. I shed tears for them both today, even though they might have walked past me on the street all these years later. There was a time when we shared moments of our lives, moments that led me to where I am now. They are part of my landscape, part of the tapestry I’ve made my own. I will not forget Beverley or Ron.