Two weeks ago our son-in-law's step-father died. This was the man who raised him, and his love for and pride in his dad is very apparent; it's one of the things I love most about Beau...his commitment to family. The family planned a touching funeral for Friday the 16th, which we attended.
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On Saturday, the 24th, I received a text from a dear friend that her little brother had died, and that his visitation would be on Sunday the 25th. She did not expect me to come, but was just letting me know. Carey and I talked about it, and agreed that we should go, and would be able to make the round trip (ten to eleven hours drive time) on Sunday.
My friend's family moved into the house across the street from ours when I was in fourth grade. Her father was in the Navy, her mother stayed home with their four children...three girls and then a boy. The oldest daughter was my same age, and though we were both shy and it took a few months, we forged a very strong bond. So much so that when her father was transferred to California, they eventually were able to transfer back to my hometown and even moved back into the same house across the street. I don't know how much planning went into that on her parents' part, but I am forever grateful to have had that time with my second family.
They eventually moved to another house, but it was only a few blocks away from me. I have absolutely no memory of setting foot in that house; that could be because as teenagers we hung out more at my house to get away from little sisters. :) Her father retired from the Navy, and they stayed in town where he joined the police force. They bought a different house further away from mine, but by then I had a drivers license.
We had a falling out over a boy that lasted a year or so. We both married young (neither to the jerk we fought over) and eventually figured out our friendship was worth more than our feud. (Okay, I figured it out. I don't think she was ever very invested in the feud.) Our children were close in age, and we spent a lot of time together as young mothers. She and her husband eventually moved near to his parents, and we didn't get to visit often, but we still remain devoted to each other.
On Sunday, I saw her youngest sister first and, after not having seen her in over 40 years, I told her my first name, and she jumped up to hug me calling me by my first and last name...my maiden name...boy has it been an eon since anyone called me that. :)
The middle sister and I have seen each other some over the years, and it was easy to fall into a conversation.
My friend's parents and middle sister now live near her. We were able to hug, and talk, and take a couple of pictures together. Our husbands kept each other occupied and caught up on each others' lives.
My heart breaks for their parents losing their son. He had juvenile diabetes from the time he was just a tiny boy, and it had taken a terrible toll over the years. It was wonderful to hug them and be able to tell them how sorry I am, how much I love them, and how much their influence over the years means to me. I was able to tell her mother thank you for taking me to get my drivers license, and loaning me her car to take it in. (My own mother was out of town for some reason, and wasn't there to celebrate my 16th birthday or take me to get my license. Not that I'm still holding a grudge or anything. I mean I did have that second mom in reserve!)
We didn't stay too long, as I didn't want to monopolize my friend during the visitation. It was so wonderful to get those hugs from everyone. I'm so glad we went.
