For Trisha

Monday, Mar. 20, 2006 09:02

Guestbook - Notes - Yesterday - Author - Contact

Get your own
 diary at DiaryLand.com! contact me older entries

A friend of mine died this week. Husband happened across her obituary and brought it me. She was 54 years old and died �suddenly�. There was going to be a funeral at a church. No visitation was listed. I read that the funeral was Sunday at 4pm.

We debated about going and not going. Although it had been years since I had spoken to her, she was once more dear to me than anyone. It didn�t seem right to know of her passing and not pay my respects. I phoned my mother, who agreed to go with me, so Husband could stay home with the boy. (He had been to a St. Patrick�s Day party before and was a little worn out, as well.) We decided to leave in the afternoon and drive up, then drive back, stopping for dinner somewhere along the way. In the meantime, my friend was on my mind.

We met at work. My first full time job at the bank where I worked with my mother, met the man who would become my husband, and made many of the good friends I still have today. She was sweet and generous if you were her friend, someone to be feared if you were not. I remember my mother telling me that I wanted to get on her good side because she had a lot of pull in my department. I remember being shy and intimidated in this �grown-up� world. My 21st birthday came just a few weeks after I started the job and I arrived to find a card on my desk signed by many of the staff, but started by my friend. It meant so much to me, that little gesture. I went to her and put my arms around her in gratitude. It was a moment that bonded us forever. We found each other kindred �huggers�.

My friend was our office social director, constantly planning nights out and get-togethers for the staff. Her sister was a baker, who made the most delicious cakes and could (and did) decorate them with anything imaginable. In the days before anyone ever heard of Anita Hill, there was always some naked body part etched in frosting and delivered by a policeman/woman who would suddenly start taking off clothing. She drew my name for the Christmas gift exchange and sent me on a treasure hunt to find the teddy bear another sister had hand-stitched especially for me. She was the office equivalent of Head Cheerleader and in being her friend I became someone I had never before been: one of the Cool Kids.

We were there for each other through our loves and our heartbreaks. She listened while I cried over how much I loved a married man who (I thought) would never be mine. I listened while she cried over how much she loved a man who was only interested in being her friend. (And another, and another, and another.)

As my career progressed, and I moved on to other jobs, our friendship continued. We found a restaurant with live music � a duo that played oldies during sets and euchre during breaks � and met there with friends, several nights a week. It became �our place� and was were we could be found, sitting at a table with a picture of iced tea or acting like we owned the dance floor in our wild abandon.

But time passes and things change. When I finally married the love of my life, she was there to celebrate. Her sister made our wedding cake. We danced to our favorites and rejoiced in this wonderful joy I�d found. But when I became pregnant, I found the bar scene to be less inviting and stopped wanting to continue what had, to me, become a habit. I wanted to stay at home and make a nest for my husband and child. When Boy was born and it became clear it would take more of my energy to care for him than I ever imagined, I became less and less available. I felt this friendship slip away.

A few years back, before we moved, I received a phone call from my friend. She was moving out of the area and wanted to say goodbye. She had health problems and was mostly homebound at this time. We caught up, exchanged addresses and emails, and promised to stay in touch. We tried, too. I would send her cards during the holidays and she would send me chain email. I sent her an announcement last summer to let her know the Big Boy � who she had more than once held in her arms � was getting married.

Nana and I were thinking and talking about all of this as we drove through the rural, sun-drenched countryside to her funeral. We found the building with plenty of time to spare, we toured the town, then parked and braced ourselves for the funeral. I approached the building and pulled on the door.

The door was locked.

We tried the side door. It was chained shut.

We drove around the building and found all of the doors to be chained shut.

I flipped open my cell phone and called Husband.

�Please run upstairs and look at the obituary I have on the fridge and tell me what day the funeral is.�

Pause.

�Well,� says Husband, �Enjoy the countryside and get yourselves a nice dinner. The funeral was yesterday.�

I know what happened. I was upset when I read the announcement. I was thinking in my head that Husband was going to a St. Patrick�s Day party on Saturday, therefore Saturday must be the 17th, making the 18th Sunday. As the bookkeeping I do at my second job is always a day behind, it further solidified the date in my head. I must have read that obituary twenty times, but never processed the Saturday.

I know, wherever my friend�s wonderful spirit has gone, she is giggling helplessly at my ineptitude. I also remember that she �didn�t do� funerals, and think that maybe driving through the countryside and enjoying a wonderful meal and good conversation was the best way to remember her anyway.

So long, Trish. You were well loved.

2 comments so far

Where I Be - Wednesday, May. 23, 2007
Out With The Old... - Saturday, Dec. 30, 2006
Out With The Old... - Saturday, Dec. 30, 2006
Out of Hiding! - Saturday, Dec. 23, 2006
Very, Very, Very Busy - Saturday, Dec. 02, 2006

about me - read my profile! read other Diar
yLand diaries! recommend my diary to a friend! Get
 your own fun + free diary at DiaryLand.com!