I talk to Miami-mostly when I’m feeling down, blue, going through an emotional time. or need advice. I talk to her while driving in the car, or in the bath or sometimes as I’m falling asleep. Recently, when I had my hip replacement surgery, she was there with me in the operating room.
Miami died on Sept. 14, 1999, two months after her 50th birthday. We had talked a couple of days before. She told me she thought she had a blood clot and promised me that she would make an appointment with her doctor the next day. I never found out if she did make that appointment, but I do know that she had a massive seizure 3 days later that rendered her brain dead. The doctor and family agreed to pull the plug after no brain activity for 2 days. She had just celebrated her 50th birthday. Her death shocked and rocked me. It left a hole in me that over the years has only gotten bigger and more painful. I thought that time healed wounds, but not in this case. Contrary to what I believed, this loss has become greater as time passes. And as the years go by, I miss her more and more. Several years ago, I became really angry and I started yelling at Miami for abandoning me . Where was she? I needed her!!!! She responded to my tirade. We’ve been talking ever since.
I am fortunate to have lived so far to my 66th birthday in good health. I’ve had my issues, but nothing life threatening (Knock wood!) . Some of my other friends have not been so lucky. Ginger had been diagnosed with acid indigestion, so when she had her last symptoms, her partner gave her a Tums. She died from an undiagnosed heart problem at 57. Jim died of a stroke or heart attack at 62 somewhere between Oakland and LA along Highway 5. Kenny had just returned home from a game of basketball and collapsed and died in his living room. We were teenagers when we met, I married him at 21 and although our marriage ended 33 years and lifetimes ago, I was heartbroken. He was 60 when he died. Why didn’t I go to that poker tournament he asked me to attend in Vegas?
I think about these old friends of mine. Sometimes, it’s a dream, other times it’s a song on the radio. Sometimes it’s when I drive by or remember favorite restaurants we frequented. Every once in a while I look at the obituaries and wish that I had seen the one written about Ginger. Had I seen it, I would have known a lot sooner that she had died and could have attended her memorial service and grieved with her friends and family. We hadn’t spoken in about a year and a half.......we were both workaholics in distant school districts and work took precedence......Her friends tried to find me, but couldn’t......my unlisted phone number didn’t help.
I was waiting until I retired to contact Jim. We were very close for many years. We had so much fun together and somewhere along the way, we had a falling out. I was always going to call him when I had more time.......wish I had known that his time would be up before I got around to it.
I miss these old friends of mine. They are all part of my story, woven into the fabric of my life. And yes, I talk to one of them and lovingly remember the others. I can’t go back and change what’s been done, but I do hope that I remember to make time for who and what is most important to me. And forgive myself for my screwed up priorities.
No comments:
Post a Comment