A few weeks after my last post, in February 2021 one of my best friends died. He passed away after a long COVID battle. He was not on a ventilator, but the disease ravaged his body over the course of three months and then he was gone. Two years later and I am still left with a deep sense of loss.
We met when I was 20 and just starting to live my life as a productive human working a 9-5 on my own. He sat across from me when I moved into a different department and instantly I was hooked. He came from a completely different background but he was smart and funny. He constantly surprised me with the things he said and the things he did.
We started going to lunch together and we just talked. It turned out we had a similar dark sense of humor one that I didn't share with many people. It had been a rough road for me at times and the residual pain, I shared with him. He shared his with me and we laughed together about our trauma. We found a way to do that and we shared something profound that bonded us.
He wrote poetry and showed me his work. It was beautiful but sad and sometimes haunting. I always wanted him to publish it or at least submit it but he was reluctant. I started writing too and joked he was my muse.
Our friendship didn't make sense on the surface. He was someone all the women wanted. I was in a solid serious relationship. He was stylish and handsome. I was fat and cute. At times people thought there was more to it but there wasn't so we didn't care.
Then we started playing Madden together and it was the best part of our friendship That really built the bond that wouldnt break. He taught me all the plays and he was so proud of his protégé. We got to laugh and hang out and drink and eat lasagna from the Italian place up the street. He had very specific dietary preferences but that lasagna always worked out. Sometimes cheesesteaks.
We shared everything. I met some of his friends and family and he met some of mine. He knew Rolston well at that point. There wasn't a story he didn't know about me. I think he knew more about me than anyone ever had or ever will.
Our story was long, more than 20 years of being there for one another. I was his girl in the suburbs who lived a different life sure but I was also his best friend. He was there for me always. He put out the broom at my wedding. He was there when Brenton was born. He was the godfather to all 3 of my kids. He came when Rolston's mother died and almost got arrested for going 35 in a 25. Bordentown was no joke.
When he was going to propose to his first wife, I met him in the paeking lot at the jewlery store to check out the ring before he did it. I was at the wedding but in the background. You see he was friends with Rolston too, but I didn't get that chance with his women, until I did.
Before his divorce was final, I met Zakiyyah. He asked me to come meet her because he thought I would really like her and he really wanted me to meet her. She was always the one that got away in his eyes. They were together in high school. And he always loved her. I think he died still loving her, but the relationship was long distance amd that was what broke it. There was more to it in the end but that was the core. He couldn't trust it because nothing good could be real.
I loved her too for the hope she gave him and for who she was as a human. She was exactly what he needed and he was childlike in his rekindled love for her. I got to witness him being himself with her and she was so good to him. I really did think it would last and I was hurt when it didn't but I understood. She and I have remained friends and I shared much of my grief with her.
I was always surprised when he put me in front of people and highlighted our friendship to the world. I never felt like it was a secret but also it shocked me that he really and truly valued me in that way. In my heart I knew how much we meant to each other and that was what mattered.
At his second wedding, he introduced me to his estranged son who he had recently reunited with, as his best friend and although I always claimed him that was the second time he said it out loud to someone new who meant a lot to him but didn't already know me. It didn't even occur to me that less than two years later, he would be gone.
I did always know he would go first. I never doubted that. I just didn't think it would be so soon and after not seeing him for so long. It was COVID and so we hadn't seen each other since his wedding.
Gaps were usual for us and we saw each other less and less over the years. I kept moving farther away, he said. It was not an easy drive he said and Bordentown was not friendly to him and his lead foot. Still every now and then he would come through unexpectedly.
He did one of his pop in visits and it was close to my birthday. It felt like a present and it was so good to see him. That was the last time we took a picture together. I had no idea at the time it would be a last. I guess that's what people mean when they say cherish the times you have. And I do remember that day and just laughing like no time had passed.
That is what I miss the most is how we used to just know each other. He just knew me. One time he bought me a gift because I was having a rough time. He said, he just wanted me to know how much I meant to him and to everyone. He said I should know how wonderful I am.
I still wake up after dreaming about him and think how I want to tell him I had a strange dream about him. I want to tell.him about the kids or even just small things. Most of all I want to tell him how much I miss him and that my life is not at all the same without him.
He called me the day he died and I didn't answer the phone. I was putting Harper to bed and said, I will call back later. At midnight, his wife called and told me he died. I sobbed. I couldn't speak. I just sobbed and then she hung up.
I woke Rolston with my sobs and croaked out Akbar died and then he just said oh no over and over. Both of us in disbelief.
We were still in lockdown and the kids were in remote school and the vaccines had just come out but not for us yet. So I went to see him at the viewing amd stood and looked at my best friend who did not looks at all like himself laying in a casket at 43 years old recently re-married with a young son. I was mad at him for leaving me. I felt hollow. I wanted to scream and cry, what am I supposed to do now? How can I do this without you? It is not fair.
Instead, I looked at him and thought about all the times he was there for me and that it was too many for me to recall. Quietly crying in my double masks knowing I couldn't stay for the funeral because I didn't want to get COVID and die too. It hurt. My whole body hurt being there like that and the pain didn't go away. Some of it still remains.
I said my goodbyes to him without seeing anyone because I went so early. As I walked through the doors on my way out I had my head down and some family was arriving. I couldn't acknowledge them in that moment. It was too much for me. So with a gentle nod and a tear soaked masked face, I returned to my car and slathered myself in sanitizer. My hands were stinging and I couldn't catch my breath between the tears. It was so unfair and as he liked to always remind me, life is not fair and it turns out, neither is death.
Each morning I still have to stop myself from going to Google chat to say good morning. I just cannot believe he is really gone. People talk about how they want one last chance to talk to someone or see them and I never understood until now. Not really and not with this depth of emotion.
A part of me died with him. I will never be quite the same since the moment I knew he was gone. I have so many wishes. I wish most of all I had picked up the phone the day he died and to know what he would have said. Knowing I missed that chance is difficult and haunting.
All I am left with is our glorious memories. Although they do comfort me and I am grateful for them, mostly I am still stuck in grief. I wonder if that will ever fade or shift. People assured me it will lessen and even a day will arrive that I don't think of him, but I can't imagine it yet even as we approach 2 years.
I loved him so much and I miss him. I am certain I will always miss him. But I was lucky to know him and have the time we did. It hurts because losing someone you love leaves pieces of you missing. For me right now, it still seems insurmountable to feel anything other than that deep sense of loss.
