Closing Another Chapter

January 1, 2009, began a new chapter in my life.  Today the next step was taken.  Finality begins on Monday, January 4, 2009.

I was 15 years old and had just broken up with my boyfriend.  You know how tragic that can be!  I went to the movie with my cousin that Sunday afternoon and as we waited to cross the street, I saw the car.

A super-shiny 1958 Chevy.  All four windows were down.  Loud pipes and all, it naturally attracted me.  Inside the car was a guy wearing a yellow button-down oxford shirt with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.  He had his left foot propped up on the dashboard and I could see stiffly starched blue jeans, black loafers and yellow socks to match his shirt.  Good sign - he dresses well.

Then I saw his face.  My gosh, what a gorgeous face.  Sun-bleached hair.  Ricky Nelson eyes, and when he smiled at me, an Elvis Presley smile.  Okay.. I'm in love.  

I finally found a way to meet him, (not as easy as you might think because he went to a different high school) and we dated our last two years in high school with the plans made to get married in June following our May graduations.  

He had a pretty hot temper, but he never made any move to use that temper towards me.  I watched him once as he was so upset about something that he banged his fist into the brick wall of my house until his hand was a bloody mess.  I also saw him kick through a solid wood door.  What we know now that we didn't know then is that he suffered from bi-polar disease.

We divorced after two years.  That kind of thing happens when the love wasn't real to begin with.

I decided to go to college.  My dad thought he needed help to pay for it, so he had the divorce annulled and then had the marriage annulled.  The social security checks for me as a minor child attending school resumed.  Legally, I "lived in sin" with him for two years.

I disappeared from sight as far as he and his family were concerned.  I thought it best because between the time that the divorce was annulled and the marriage annulled, he re-married.  They had their only daughter 5 months later.

A couple of years ago, his sister finally found my telephone number and called me.  We became reacquainted and seemingly picked up right where we left off.  I made a trip through that area last year and had a nice long visit with her mom and dad whom I have always loved and appreciated for the support they showed me thoughout the entire relationship with their son.

The sister called me in the afternoon of January 1.  Her brother has died.  He went out for his daily walk and about three hours later they found him face down in a water-filled ditch.

I am still in a state of shock.  Who would ever have thought that his part of my life would have ended this way?  Today was the visitation at the funeral home.  His poor mother and father, in their 80's and not at all in good health, are going to have a hard time getting over this - if they are able to get over it at all.  In the intervening years, he had gotten treatment and had become a Christian who loved the Lord and worked hard in his church.  I am so very thankful for that.

The funeral is tomorrow.  I won't go.  His parents and his sister would be glad to see me and appreciate that the reason I was there was to show respect for them, but I'm not sure his widow and daughter would understand that.  Neither would the rest of that small town.  It's just better all around for me not to be there. 

I have to admit.  I would appreciate the closure that I would derive from going, but if it created even one small problem I would regret having gone and that would only make the entire tragic event worse.


So I have these final thoughts on his passing.  When I remember him I still see him as the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.  Naturally, he had changed over the years - a few extra pounds, a little less hair, etc. - but I don't know him that way.  I remember him as gorgeous.  I always will.  And I remember the swear words he always used around me.. "Mother Hubbard."  I have never known where that came from.

And I'll remember the garbage I had to put up with because I rode to the Thanksgiving Day football game with his parents.  I was a cheerleader - he played football for our biggest rival team.  Traditions are the pits, aren't they, when it involves kids who can be more mean to other kids than adults sometimes.  I don't even remember who won the game.  Why should I?  That was over 40 years ago.

So long, my old friend.  We'll meet again.