No one tells me anything. I can’t say how many friends or friend’s parents die and I’ll hear about it months, if not years later. I guess that’s what happens when you lose touch. This time I found out on facebook.
My friend Tom passed away, apparently in April.
This was a shock, really. I’d called him not too long ago to catch up and ask if he’d want to be a witness for an annulment process I was exploring. You need witnesses that knew you and the ex before you were married, and thereafter. I decided it was a shitshow I wanted no part of and Tom was the start of that realization. He was after all my roommate at the time I was dating her and was my best man at the wedding.
“Why the fuck would you want to do that?” he said.
He wasn’t religious whatsoever. If you asked him he’d tell you he was a druid. Interestingly, he knew what an annulment was all about. As an aside, most of the people I talked about it with had some iteration of that line. As usual, he put my head right.
We met back in the 80s. He went to the same high school as me, and was friends/neighbors with my best friend’s brother. At one point, he was looking for a new place, due to one or more of his roommates getting married, and I think the owner of the house was returning. Can’t recall. My friend Tim was looking to move out of his parent’s place, and I wanted to move from where I was living. I was miserable and lonely there. So we found a pretty big 3 BR apartment in Alexandria Va, for like $700/month with utilities included. For me, who was making peanuts at the time, it was a hella deal.
A year later or so, Tim bought a house with his brother so me and Tom had to find new digs. We got a smaller place, in a nicer part of the development, a few blocks away and there we stayed until I got married, or thereabouts.
I look back on that period as one of the happiest times of my life. We had time on our hands, money (sort of) in our pockets, and no commitments whatsoever. We were each others wingman about every weekend. Sometimes we were lucky, many times not.
Tom had an awesome sense of humor. Not just for a funny comeback, he’d gear a conversation towards a punchline, then spring the trap.
One of the things we’d do on a weekend is go hang out on the mall in DC. You see, the park service there used to sell beer. So, we’d go there wander around between the memorials with our shirts off, getting some sun, drinking beer, watching the tourists swelter in the heat, and see if there were any hot babes to interact with. At the time, I was very fit and I’d usually be wearing rugby shorts of some sort or another. When that got boring, we’d go goof on the protesters. There’s always someone in front of the Capital building grinding an ax of some sort. Why not make sport of it?
One day, we happened upon a couple cute chicks from PETA with their signs, and I think a table. Can’t remember. So Tom starts chatting them up on the best way to care for our animal friends. I think he was at it for nearly five minutes before they realized he was talking about “caring” for them in the context of prepping them to cook. Just as they were getting a clue, he does his signature move – close talking. He got them where he wanted them. Time to rattle their cages.
Another time, we were on the mall sunning ourselves and having a beer. Unlike most weekends, there weren’t the normal tourists, but a whole ton of homosexuals. So I comment “Seems like a whole lot of homos out here today”. To which he replied “Yep. It’s because of the gay pride parade”. I lit up like Cartman on Southpark, ending with “LETSGETTHEFUCKOUTTAHERE!”. Dude knew it was that day, suggested we go hit the mall, and was totally content for us to walk shirtless around the crowds until he sprung the trap. He laughed at me all the way back to the car.
Didn’t seem long that things were moving fast, and within a few years we were both married. He married probably the sweetest soul I’ve ever met, Christie. I don’t think she had a hateful bone in her body. Even after we had kids (they had none) We’d see them at my sister’s house whenever her and her husband had a party or were just all hanging out. He always had the best halloween costumes:
Time flew and we moved down to Texas. I traveled a bit and would take him and Christie to dinner if I were in the area and had time. Eventually we lost touch for a time, until Christie died. She passed of cancer, with him caring for her the whole time. I called up to talk, express my condolences, and catch up. It was a really sad time. Dude was a hero caring for her like that.
A few years later, he’s retiring and posting his move to Front Royal Va making me jealous as hell. Sell the house in the DC area for a good chunk of change, sock money away and pay cash for place in the Blue Ridge, literally at the start of Skyline drive. That would be heaven to me to be on the bike straightening out that road again. It’s an absolutely stunning place, especially in the fall where you can’t describe the explosion of color.
Next thing I know, he’s gone. I didn’t even think to call him and tell him how green with envy I was that he got to retire to the mountains in Virginia. I need to keep in touch with my friends better, that’s for sure.
He was a good friend. He was my friend and I’ll miss him. The whole thing had me sad and unmoored this week.
Inspected By Pat 