This morning, at about 4 AM I took on a task I had been putting off for a while. A letter. A hand written letter. One I needed to write and one I wanted to write...but one that made me very sad writing. I put my thoughts down on the computer first, since I knew I would end up with many words crossed out and such, were I to go immediately to pen and paper. Once I was satisfied with the letter, I copied it by hand, onto plain 8 1/2 X 11 copier paper (only the best stationary for this gal!)
The letter was to an old friend. Actually, to an old boyfriend, in fact, the first one to whom I became engaged. That was many moons ago and things took a different course from the one we dreamed of at that tender age of 20, and we both went on to live happy and fulfilling lives. Each of us married and had children. Each of us worked hard at our careers, and were moderately successful in our achievements. Each of us encountered hard times and major family issues, and each of us dealt with life's normal trials and tribulations as best we could.
I lost contact with this friend for about 15 years after we parted ways. In fact, I never expected to come in contact with him again. He would drift into the land of memories, the good ones rising readily to the surface, and the not-so-good ones gently sinking to the bottom. That's how it is with me and memories.
One day, about 12 years ago, while I was an AOL member, I was looking through membership...looking for others whose names I might recognize. I found a lot of old college friends this way and it was fun to touch base with them. And there it was. His name. Well, I thought I'd just shoot him an instant message to say hello and see how he was doing.
That began another chapter in our friendship. We corresponded through AIM and email, every now and then. When we had a major event in our lives, we always shared it with the other. We found we had more in common than probably we'd had in our youth. And we enjoyed getting to know the next generation, through their parents' eyes.
One day, about two years ago, I noticed I had not heard from him in a while. So I shot him and email, just making sure everything was OK. Well, as it turned out, everything was not OK. While I knew he was dealing with a family member who was struggling with their addiction to alcohol, I had no idea he was also facing serious problems with his career. And the story he told was heart-breaking...unbelievable...and yet, it was true.
Over the next 18 months or so, I was in regular communications with him, supporting him as he was reaching the depths of depression, having to be hospitalized several times for suicidal ideations. And all the while, he kept working, trying to make the world spin back on its familiar axle for him. But it was not meant to be.
In February he wrote me, letting me know he was going to be sentenced to 2-6 years, and that he did not yet know where he would be serving his time. Yes, time for a crime he says he did not commit, but to which he pleaded guilty..... I am certain I will never know the details of what transpired, but the net result was the complete loss of his career, and a complete loss financially. He assured me that his wife would let me know where they sent him, providing me with contact information.
I did not hear from his wife. And I was reluctant to bug her. She does not know me, except for the stories he has shared with her. But finally, four months after I last heard from him, I sent an email to his address....in the hopes that either he could now answer from prison, or that his wife would answer. She did, in a very lovely email, thanking me for all of the support I have given her husband over the years, and asking that I write him in prison at the address she provided. She assured me these letters from friends mean a lot to him and that he would be very happy to hear from me.
That response was received on June 30....and this morning I finally sat down and wrote that letter. It was a hard one to write. It reminded me of the letters I wrote to my friend Kelly as I knew she was fighting a losing battle against an insidious brain tumor. I am left feeling challenged as to whether I should share good news about my own life, let them know that I am praying for them, commiserate about their current situation, or what, exactly. In the end, I had a little bit of everything in the four-page, hand written letter...the first of many, I am sure.
And when I had finished the letter, I folded it and sealed it in the envelope, addressed it as instructed by his wife, and placed a FOREVER stamp on the corner. I thought about that stamp being a FOREVER stamp....kind of like a friendship being a forever friendship... And when it was ready for the mail, I was exhausted. I returned to bed and slept for another two hours. I was emotionally drained.
The rest of the day I worked my butt off, taking care of the zillion chores that are part of home ownership... and I kept thinking about how my friend is not able to do these things now...and how very lucky I am to have my freedom and my ability to work up a sweat in the yard mowing, weeding, planting, and in the house, dusting, vacuuming, mopping. And I worked extra hard, because I know he cannot right now.
Hot, sweaty and tired, I finally came indoors at about 8 PM...realized I'd had only a small handful of raisins at about 8 AM! Well, I doubt that would be a sufficient diet for anyone, so, after I'd cooled down a bit, I heated up a hunk of leftover steak (my son and his fiance took me out to eat last Saturday and the steak was HUGE....I have just finished my third meal from it...and I guess I will have steak for breakfast tomorrow, since I leave to drive to NY tomorrow directly after church.....)
Now, as I unwind with a cup of tea, I am glad I got that letter written and mailed. I hope it will be easier the next time.
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