TheDoctor
Shiny_Rock
- Joined
- Nov 30, 2005
- Messages
- 371
Some of you may get this, but some may not. It's my obviously biased male perspective on something that kept me awake last night, but stuff happens in life and sometimes it takes a while for the raisded eyebrows to droop back to their normal position. Here's the story, I'll try to avoid turning it into a documentary.
I met a cute young thing when we were both about 12 and had an interest in her, but never actually initiated any sort of serious friendship or dating until we were about 15. She soon became every 15 year old boy's dream. We were a unit throughout high school, joined at the hip. Everyone who knew us expected a marriage to eventually come about, but 16 months or so past graduation it became apparent that we had developed a few conflicts which were too hard to resolve, and that it was better if we went our separate ways.
She immediately took up with my best buddy and the two of them avoided contact with me or most of our group of friends.
They were married a couple of years later, and soon after they joined a pentacostal church and tried to recruit more members from the ranks of old friends. That sealed it, they were on their own. I had met and fallen madly in love with a woman and we were married around the same period of time. Decades have passed and the sands of time had buried a lot of stuff.
She passed away last weekend at the age of 52 after a 3 year battle with breast/brain cancer. Although we have keep in touch minimally, I found out within hours of her passing, and chased down their home phone number to express my condolences to her family.
A few friends and I attended the funeral together yesterday, and got sort of re-acquainted with her in-laws, met her adult son and, of course, expressed my deepest sympathies to her hubby, my good old friend.
The nasty bit of the service came when some friends of hers from church delivered a sort of lengthy eulogy, a joyful celebration of the various stages of her life. Her teen years were nicely condensed and fed to those who had gathered in a fictionalized protrayal of events, and we who were closest to her during that 5 or so years time had to sit, no...squirm... through a glowing account of how she had been trying to bag my buddy from the time she was in grade 6 and that she finally landed him when school ended.
There was no "us", save for one photo which her mother, not associated with the church, had included in a powerpoint presentation. It was her and I, dressed to attend High School Graduation. We definitely looked like a couple. I heard whispering.
That was it. Most everyone left to attend the gathering down the hall, but I couldn't stomach the idea of being there to identify myself to anyone who might wonder about who I was or how I was connected.
Which is worse... to admit your past, to avoid the topic, or to revise the details to the point where the story becomes a lie?
This is not a slight against religion, but the 5 years we spent together must have seemed too inconvenient a truth to share with those who had gathered. Sad, really.
To her credit, she taught me everything I know about how to treat women. She shared with me an intimate knowledge of music, one of her many obsessions. She seduced me, an awkward 16 year old, and it was magic. She made sure I was dressed stylishly and set standards of mature behaviour I was to subscribe to. Her father and mother welcomed me into their home day and night.
She was a big part of my life, and she is gone, but a lot of her remains with me....and that's exactly why I was at her funeral... at 52 years of age, married 28 years with 3 kids and proud to say I knew her.
Uh, I apolgize for the long post, but I feel a little better now getting that out.
Sorry, time to get on with the rest of the day. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.
I met a cute young thing when we were both about 12 and had an interest in her, but never actually initiated any sort of serious friendship or dating until we were about 15. She soon became every 15 year old boy's dream. We were a unit throughout high school, joined at the hip. Everyone who knew us expected a marriage to eventually come about, but 16 months or so past graduation it became apparent that we had developed a few conflicts which were too hard to resolve, and that it was better if we went our separate ways.
She immediately took up with my best buddy and the two of them avoided contact with me or most of our group of friends.
They were married a couple of years later, and soon after they joined a pentacostal church and tried to recruit more members from the ranks of old friends. That sealed it, they were on their own. I had met and fallen madly in love with a woman and we were married around the same period of time. Decades have passed and the sands of time had buried a lot of stuff.
She passed away last weekend at the age of 52 after a 3 year battle with breast/brain cancer. Although we have keep in touch minimally, I found out within hours of her passing, and chased down their home phone number to express my condolences to her family.
A few friends and I attended the funeral together yesterday, and got sort of re-acquainted with her in-laws, met her adult son and, of course, expressed my deepest sympathies to her hubby, my good old friend.
The nasty bit of the service came when some friends of hers from church delivered a sort of lengthy eulogy, a joyful celebration of the various stages of her life. Her teen years were nicely condensed and fed to those who had gathered in a fictionalized protrayal of events, and we who were closest to her during that 5 or so years time had to sit, no...squirm... through a glowing account of how she had been trying to bag my buddy from the time she was in grade 6 and that she finally landed him when school ended.
There was no "us", save for one photo which her mother, not associated with the church, had included in a powerpoint presentation. It was her and I, dressed to attend High School Graduation. We definitely looked like a couple. I heard whispering.
That was it. Most everyone left to attend the gathering down the hall, but I couldn't stomach the idea of being there to identify myself to anyone who might wonder about who I was or how I was connected.
Which is worse... to admit your past, to avoid the topic, or to revise the details to the point where the story becomes a lie?
This is not a slight against religion, but the 5 years we spent together must have seemed too inconvenient a truth to share with those who had gathered. Sad, really.
To her credit, she taught me everything I know about how to treat women. She shared with me an intimate knowledge of music, one of her many obsessions. She seduced me, an awkward 16 year old, and it was magic. She made sure I was dressed stylishly and set standards of mature behaviour I was to subscribe to. Her father and mother welcomed me into their home day and night.
She was a big part of my life, and she is gone, but a lot of her remains with me....and that's exactly why I was at her funeral... at 52 years of age, married 28 years with 3 kids and proud to say I knew her.
Uh, I apolgize for the long post, but I feel a little better now getting that out.
Sorry, time to get on with the rest of the day. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.
Also, for all we know she was pursuing her husband through high school or at least pining away for him, or perhaps that is how she and her husband came to view things after years of marriage. I know I dated other guys in my 20's, two for quite a long time, but all I really remember is dating my husband (met him at 24). Just because their relationship remained significant to the OP, doesn't mean it was the same for this woman. I mean no disrespect to OP or his feelings, but people don't always remember things in the same way.
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