Earlier this year, I wrote a story about the loss within a month or so of two people who had shared a bit of my life with me. While neither could have been termed a "bosom" buddy, both represented different times in my life, different versions of the me that exists today. Here is a link to that story.
https://wurdsfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2022/03/death-and-friends.html
One of the results of that story, or I should say the sentiment in me that produced that story, is that I have spent the last 6 months or so trying to reconnect with various friends from my past. In one case, it was a couple with whom my wife and I, along with another couple, had spent many pleasant evenings at each others' homes, especially before we all started raising families. Gradually, we lost touch with this couple, Terry and Tom, so, using my internet sleuthing skills and the info I could remember, I tracked them down. That first conversation, with Terry, was far more than I could have expected. It was as if that much time had not passed, a feeling I was to experience a few more times since. As of now, all 3 couples have met once, with a 2nd event planned, and Terry even turned my wife onto a sewing club.
The second task was far more complicated. To contact the 8 friends with whom I had spent thousands of days (and especially nights), irresponsibility wasting our youth in adventures and rebellion, living for the moment. One, I had already reconnected with after hearing of the passing of her husband, one I had seen as recently as 6 or so years ago, and a few I had seen at a 50th birthday party, 14 years ago, but we had not all been together for at least 40 years.
Slowly, I was able to tick them off as I found a phone number here, an address there, and by June I had spoken to all of them, Audrey, Barb, Jim, Kim, Matt, Mike, Teri and Tracy. During July, I had even managed to organize 2 small visits, one with Matt and Mike at Matt's house, one at a restaurant with Audrey, Tracy and Kim, plus Sue who, while not at the center of the group, flitted in and out over time.
The conversations, the memories, the updates all seemed genuine, and so we planned an all encompassing reunion in October, that being the first Saturday everyone was free.
Sadly though, today, I learned of Matt's passing. While not sure of the scope of a service which might be held for him, our own Big Chill scenario which I had consciously hoped to avoid, is now forthcoming. And while that doesn't mean everyone will be able to attend a service for Matt, it does mean that our October reunion will have one empty chair.
I have recounted the story of my mission to a number of people these past few months. Many thought it cool, some even recounted similar stories or stated that maybe they would try to do the same as well. Of course, not everyone wants to reconnect with old friends. Many people want to leave the past behind, feel that there is no going back. I understand that perspective. Our memories of the "old days" can be both tinted by rose colored glasses and marked by the regrets of decisions made, or not made. And, the reality is that while everyone sounds the same on the phone (isn't that amazing?), we all wear the years differently.
For some, it is safer to remember what your friends looked like at 20. Seeing them at 60+ only reminds you that you are 60+ as well, and can engender thoughts of whether you have made good use of those years and whether those years have brought you to a place of happiness and satisfaction, or sadness and discontentment. Not to mention the question of whether you can plan a future 20 year reunion with those friends, and wonder if who, even yourself, might be in attendance.
For now, I expect, memories of Matt will pop into my head, as I imagine they will for the rest of the group. Most have already heard the news, partly due to my efforts of reconnecting with everyone. I am not sure if that is necessarily a positive thing, but I do know that if I had not spoken to Matt, met with Matt, texted Matt in these last few months, and then found out, a week or a month afterwards of his passing, I would be far more sad, although the knowledge that Matt was one of the first proponents of our reunion, offering his home as the site, makes the loss even more painful.
I have proposed a number of versions of what Judgment Day might encompass in the course of my posting on this blog. Perhaps it is as simple as, the more people who call you their friend, the higher up in the clouds you rise. In Matt's case, I can envision him up towards the top, making stupid jokes with his fellow angels. His passing is sad, but I am glad to feel that sadness knowing that I would not be experiencing if if not for our friendship those many years ago.
I am sure we all had someone like Matt in our life. If you are game, perhaps you should try to see how he is doing.
Good bye Matt, I will always remember your laugh, and your sense of fun loving adventure.
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